Read Tempting Donovan Ford for Free Online

moue—the French expression that indicated boredom or a desire to get this over and done with—and opened the stairwell door.
    A young woman with the kind of smooth skin that came from good genetics sat behind a long wooden desk that shared the same glossy effect as the bar downstairs. Clearly, this was their brand. All sparkle and flash. Julia swallowed. She hoped there was some substance beneath the sheen.
    There was a handsome man leaning up against the desk. Julia recognized him as a Ford immediately. The younger son, Owen. He looked like Donovan, but sweeter or maybe just more relaxed. Whatever he’d been saying to the receptionist made her laugh.
    She stopped midgiggle and cleared her throat when she noticed Julia. “Good afternoon.”
    “Hello. I’m Julia Laurent.” She glanced at Owen, who appeared to have perked up at the mention of her name. Great. Exactly what had Donovan been telling his family about her? She decided to ignore the question. No need to borrow trouble. Maybe it was nothing, just human interest at putting a face to a name. “I have an appointment with Donovan Ford.”
    The woman nodded. “Yes, Ms. Laurent. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let Mr. Ford know you’ve arrived.” She gestured to a long white leather Barcelona couch. It looked custom-made, the tufted seat and back running the length of the entryway.
    Julia remained standing while the woman picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. A small ploy to show that she was on the same level as Donovan Ford when he appeared. But she hoped he wouldn’t be too long. Her feet hurt in these shoes. Though she was used to standing all night, she never did so in heels.
    Instead, she stripped off her gloves, stuffing them in the pocket of her coat, and then slid out of the heavy wool. The offices weren’t overly warm, but they felt that way after the brisk outdoor air and her brisker climb up the stairs. She folded the coat over her arm, keeping her practiced pout in place.
    “The lovely Julia Laurent.” Owen pushed away from the desk and held out a hand. “Owen Ford.”
    Julia shook his hand politely, perfunctorily. Was it just coincidence that he was out here prior to her meeting with Donovan? Or had he been planted here? Some sort of gatekeeper to soften her up or throw her off her game? “Hello.”
    She searched for something, anything, that might hint why Owen just happened to be in the reception area when she arrived, but the only thing she noticed were the laugh lines that radiated from his eyes. She liked them. They made him look like the kind of person who knew how to have a good time and included everyone around him in the fun. He moved that way, too, a smooth, laid-back roll to his motions that indicated a man who enjoyed living and didn’t always have a set goal.
    For just a second, Julia wondered what that was like. How it would feel to simply take life as it came and not worry about the things she couldn’t control. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
    She’d done some research on the family over the past few days. Elephants was their first purchase and had been a swanky lounge back in the ’80s. One of those of the time monuments to shoulder pads and three-martini lunches that had become a city staple during that decade. But, unlike La Petite Bouchée, it hadn’t stagnated. Instead, it had been renovated in line with the times, shifting from bright neon to flashy lasers and disco balls to its current clean look. And it had been successful enough to allow the family to buy the building that housed it and expand to three other locations in the city. All shared the same styling and nod to excess.
    Owen wasn’t listed on the company website. In fact, the only place Julia had seen his photo was on the city’s social pages. Always with his arm around one beautiful woman or two. Maybe he didn’t have the cutthroat instincts necessary for business.
    His smile certainly didn’t indicate a cold, sharklike