Love Beyond Words (City Lights: San Francisco Book 1) by Emma Scott Read Free Book Online

condo complex and Julian Kovač climbed out before the driver could open the door for him.
    “Good night, sir,” the driver said, his face professionally impassive.
    Julian slammed the door shut, and muttered a good night. He strode up to building, taking the concrete stairs two at a time. Columns of lights—the skyscrapers of the Financial District—rose around him, buffeting the howling wind and breaking it up into manageable gusts.
    Bernie, the night doorman, greeted him with a warm, “Good evening, Mr. Kovač,” and held open the spotless glass door. Julian muttered another greeting, and yet a third to Hank, the security guard at the front desk. Once inside the confines of the elevator, he spat a curse in Spanish, and jabbed the button marked ‘15PH’.
    The elegant tone of the elevator announced the floor and opened on a small anteroom of rich, maroon carpet. Lights glowed in art deco sconces of pewter and gold. There were no other doors but for his. He keyed in a security code on the wall panel, and it swung soundlessly open.
    The penthouse was dark, illuminated by the city that glittered through the immense windows that composed one wall. Julian wended between elegant chairs and tables and sofas until he was standing before them.
    He looked out over the sparkling constellations of the city and the pool of darkness that was the bay. The Golden Gate Bridge to his far left and the Bay Bridge to his right hung like starry garlands over the blackness, their luminescence converging and blending with Sausalito and Oakland.
    “Thousands of writers in the world,” Julian murmured. “Astronomical odds. A coincidence of outrageous proportions.” He leaned his forehead against the cool glass; his skin still burned when he thought of her, of how her rich dark eyes had shown when she spoke of her favorite author. “So much love…” He sighed. “I couldn’t have written anything worse.”
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    “I met someone,” Natalie said when there was a lull—finally—in the good-natured bickering between Liberty and Marshall. They lowered their cocktails with comic sameness, and swiveled their heads toward her.
    “What?” Liberty’s mouth was agape. “You’re joking.”
    “Ssh!” Marshall hissed, as if silence were possible in his favorite noisy bar on Market Street. “Did you hear that cracking sound? That was hell freezing over.”
    Natalie gave him a dirty look. “Your support is duly noted. And no, I’m not joking.”
    “Well?” Liberty rolled her hand. “Who is he? Spill it.”
    Natalie shrugged. “Not sure I want to, now.”
    “Don’t get in a snit,” Marshall said. “Look at it from our perspective: Halley’s comet only comes every seventy years…”
    Liberty jabbed him with her elbow. “Marshall, zip it.” She patted Natalie’s hand. “Don’t mind him; he’s premenstrual. Tell us everything. We’ll behave, I promise.”
    Natalie felt the weight of her friends’ attention and wished mightily she had kept her mouth shut. “It’s nothing. He’s just someone…a customer at the café.”
    “And? A regular? What’s his name? What’s he look like? What’s he do?”
    “Yes, he’s a regular. His name is Julian—”
    “Julian, Julian…” Marshall mused. “Professional chess player? Debate team captain?”
    Natalie ignored him. “Julian Kovač. He’s very smart, extraordinarily good-looking—”
    “ Extraordinarily good-looking.” Liberty nodded knowingly at Marshall. “Not just ordinary good-looking.”
    “ Yes ,” Natalie countered. “To be perfectly honest, he’s gorgeous. And I’m not sure what he does. Writes, I guess. We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
    “And how far have you gotten?”
    Natalie smirked. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
    “Sure did.”
    “We’ve just been…talking.”
    “That’s it?”
    “That’s it.”
    Marshall smirked into his martini. “Honey, you aren’t a very good