The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] by C.J. Wells Read Free Book Online

minutes, if not hours, before she seemingly gains composure, looking towards the cause of our hysteria, “Alex, what a surprise.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression you were meeting each other here,” Amira states, clearly confused, her presence behind us forcing us forward by short measure.
    I remain immobilized, my death grip firm on Stacey’s arm.
    “Never mind us, Amira. Slight miscommunication. We were expecting Thomas. But, I’m sure I can speak for Aby when I say we’re delighted to see you again, Alex.”
    Donning a sexy smirk, he nods in agreement, clearly amused with the joke and our display of outrageous bewilderment.
    Prying my fingers from her arm, Stacey takes Amira’s elbow gently, “Amira, why don’t you show me around,” she turns to look back to me, her expression a mixture of pleading forgiveness and cry me a river.
    I’m unable to formulate a sentence as they walk away, feeling Alex’s stare. This can’t be happening.
    “Hi, Aby. Shall we check out the kitchen?” he asks in a playful, teasing tone, shrugging his shoulders.
    “The kitchen? What? Where’s Thomas?” I mutter my incoherent rambling thoughts aloud, slurring like a drunken fish-net-clad hooker in the red light district. My brain still hasn’t processed the last few minutes—or seconds.
    With a boisterous laugh, he slowly walks towards me. “Why don’t I give you a tour?” Offering a warm smile, he gently links his arm in mine.
    The man is even more stunning in the light of day; his blue eyes glittering in amusement. His nearness to me, and my intake of his masculine scent is doing crazy things to my already overwhelmed system.
    “I take it you weren’t expecting me?”
    No shit, Sherlock. I’m still expecting Thomas to come around the corner . “Umm . . . no,” I manage, finally mustering some ounce of composure as a fast-forwarded recap of this afternoon’s text-play flashes through my mind. “I’m so sorry. We thought you were Thomas . . . a joke . . . ”
    “Yeah, I got that,” he winks, gently leading me through the living room, towards a narrow staircase. “I must say, I don’t recall you mentioning last night that sex on countertops was a prerequisite to the tall bill you were looking to fill.”
    “I . . . ”
    “I’m kidding, Aby,” he laughs. “It was pretty clear you both thought I was Thomas. It was very entertaining.” Offering one of his sexy-as-shit grins, I lose myself in his lips.
    Though the ridiculous joke has finally run its course, the heat in my cheeks seems to be elevating rather than dissipating.
    Taking my hand in his, he leads me up the staircase. It’s a wonder he isn’t actually dragging me—head and limbs bobbing against each step—since the moment he took my hand I certainly felt as though I hit the floor.
    “So, as I mentioned in my text, Amira is my best friend, Mo’s, sister,” he continues. “I was thinking about you this morning and it occurred to me that since she’s leaving for Paris in two weeks, she should consider subletting her flat. It would only be a six month term while she’s studying abroad, but I thought this might be perfect for you.”
    Wait . . . What? He was thinking of me this morning?This is too much . To say this is surreal is putting it mildly.But he’s right though, from what I’ve seen so far, the flat does seem perfect for me. Quite an assertion on his part considering he barely knows me. The area is ideal, keeping me in my preferred central London location. So it goes without saying, I’m interested, but . . . ”I truly appreciate you thinking of me, but I don’t think I can afford this.” I’m embarrassed to admit this to a man who can afford just about anything life has to offer him.
    Abruptly stopping at the top of the stairs, he turns to me, “Amira doesn’t need the money. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” His eyes search mine, a brief silent exchange of glances before he offers a broad—and oh-so