Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (free biff chip and kipper ebooks .txt) 📕

he’d left his home in England seeking adventure in the United States. He’d stayed with a family friend in Miami for a week before making his way down to South Beach. For six months, he worked for Sand Castle as a valet attendant, and during that time he never stepped foot past the iconic black gates. Access to the “main house” was denied to low-level staff. Fast-forward to today, and they were throwing him a parade.

The fuss was a balm to his bruised ego. Julian wasn’t the celebrity that he had been five years ago, when his action films dominated the box office. In Hollywood, the whiff of failure was poison gas, and it followed you everywhere. Add to that a very public breakup and the public outcry over the portrayal of women in his latest release, and Julian was practically persona non grata everywhere. Except here in Miami, which was nice.

A grand staircase curved up to the second floor. He wandered to it and tested the sturdiness of the oak handrail. He’d worked carpentry for a while and appreciated the craft. A woman was making her way up the stairs. Tall, slim, light on her feet, cocoa-brown skin, body beautifully packaged in a pair of fitted jeans. She wore her coffee-black hair in a long braid that snaked down her back. When she glanced over her shoulder, looking directly at him, her long lashes veiled her eyes. But nothing could shield him from that scorching glare.

Fair was fair. After all, she’d caught him staring. Ogling women wasn’t a habit of his, and this wasn’t the time to start. He’d been labeled the poster boy for toxic masculinity; he couldn’t afford any slipups. Only nothing about this felt like a slip. It felt pointed and personal. She held his gaze, and Julian couldn’t break away. He watched, fascinated, as her cheeks turned the shade of wine. Who knew how long they’d have stayed like this if a porter hadn’t called out to her?

With an imperious flip of her braid, she continued her ascent, turned a corner and disappeared. Julian fought back the impulse to give chase. What was the matter with him? He was here on business.

In the end, it was Kat who saved him from himself. She linked her arm around his and dragged him away. “Come on! I’d like to see the pool before we head upstairs.”

They made their way to an open veranda overlooking the pool below. The manager explained that a previous owner had purchased the neighboring lot just to make space for it. Julian had to admire the audacity of a man who thought, Screw it! I’ll knock down a house and put a pool in its place. But once he saw it, he was on board.

The pool was the true oasis, not some stuffy bedroom filled with antiques. It stretched one hundred feet wide and was paved in thousands of tiny gold tiles. Each corner was punctuated by urns set high on pedestals. A fountain spit water down the middle, sending ripples along the crystal surface. Julian yearned to dive in, but for now he’d settle for a photograph. He pulled his Nikon out of a well-worn, well-loved travel bag.

“Look at it!” Kat exclaimed. “Julian, isn’t it gorgeous?”

He adjusted the lens of the camera and raised it to his eye. “Gorgeous.”

“Would you like a closer look?” Grace offered.

“No, this works.”

Julian framed the shot in his mind. He pictured a woman in a bikini floating on her back, eyes closed against the sun, hair like a halo around her head. Act one, scene one. He snapped the photo and put away the camera.

“Our annual Independence Day pool party is the most exclusive on the beach,” Grace said. “It starts tomorrow at four. We’ll end the night with fireworks.”

Julian relied on his acting skills to fake interest. “Sounds great.”

Grace nodded, pleased. “Now I’ll show you to your private elevator.”

As he, Kat and the manager squeezed into a rickety lift that led straight to his floor, Julian wondered if he might run into the woman on the stairs again, if only to apologize.

The lift opened to a wide, sun-filled walkway leading to a pair of sturdy doors. Grace ushered them inside, all the while entertaining Kat with the highlights of the mansion’s storied past. In her excitement, she missed the luggage stacked neatly in the entrance. The Louis Vuitton weekender bag and matching tote did not belong to him. He was not a fancy-luggage type of guy.

“Come see the view from the balcony,” Grace said.

Kat followed Grace. Julian swiveled on his heel and took off in the opposite direction. The master bedroom was behind a pair of thick wood doors. He drifted over, quietly turned the heavy brass knob and peeked through the crack. There she was. Taking a selfie on the bed.

Shit. This was not the second encounter he’d hoped for. Now instead of apologizing, he’d have to call security.

He entered the room. “Does the bed feel just right, Goldilocks?”

At his words, she stiffened and dropped her phone. He took no joy in her reaction. He didn’t like seeing her so defeated where earlier she’d been so defiant. Come on. Where’s that fighting spirit? When she finally stood to confront him, her eyes were wild with panic. Julian tried to muster something stronger than amused annoyance but came up short. If it were up to him, he’d let her escape and pretend this incident never happened. This wouldn’t be the first time a fan tried to sneak into his hotel room. He was blasé enough to shrug it off. But it wasn’t up to him. She didn’t know it, but the countdown had begun. Before too long—

“Ah!” Kat screamed in Julian’s ear. “What’s going on? How did she get in?”

The manager stormed the bedroom. “Ms. Taylor!”

The porter arrived with Julian’s plain black logo-free luggage and offered to call security.

Julian stepped forward to cover Ms. Taylor from the incoming fire. She may be an intruder, but she