The Morning After the Night Before: Love & Lust in the city that never sleeps!

BOOK: The Morning After the Night Before: Love & Lust in the city that never sleeps!
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THE MORNING AFTER
THE NIGHT BEFORE

The Flat in Notting Hill

Love and lust in the city that never sleeps!

Izzy, Tori and Poppy are living the London dream—sharing a big flat in Notting Hill, they have good jobs, wild nights out…and each other.

They couldn't be more different, but one thing is for sure: when they start falling in love they're going to be very glad they've got such good friends around to help them survive the roller coaster!

THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE
by Nikki Logan

SLEEPING WITH THE SOLDIER
by Charlotte Phillips

YOUR BED OR MINE?
by Joss Wood

ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS
by Louisa George

Don't miss this fabulous new continuity
from Harlequin® KISS™!

DEAR READER,

There's really nothing like the friendships created with the people you first apartment-shared with when you were freshly out of home. Especially if they were also your BFFs at school.

Poppy, Tori and Izzy come from different worlds, and have different hopes and aspirations, but they get each other completely. And wherever life takes them they know they're there for each other. Even when their Notting Hill flat starts to fill up with testosterone, these girls stick together.

I had a ball researching London and Notting Hill from the other side of the world in Australia, and I'm thrilled that Izzy gets to share her story with a handsome, secretive Aussie rogue.

I hope you enjoy a little workplace romance—Izzy and Harry definitely do.

May love always find you!

Nikki

ABOUT NIKKI LOGAN

Nikki Logan
lives next to a string of protected wetlands in Western Australia, with her long-suffering partner and a menagerie of furred, feathered and scaly mates. She studied film and theater at university, and worked for years in advertising and film distribution before finally settling down in the wildlife industry. Her romance with nature goes way back, and she considers her life charmed, given she works with wildlife by day and writes fiction by night—the perfect way to combine her two loves.

Nikki believes that the passion and risk of falling in love are perfectly mirrored in the danger and beauty of wild places. Every romance she writes contains an element of nature, and if readers catch a waft of rich earth or the spray of wild ocean between the pages she knows her job is done.

Other Harlequin® KISS™ titles by Nikki Logan:

His Until Midnight

My Boyfriend and Other Enemies

How to Get Over Your Ex

These and other titles by Nikki Logan are available in ebook format from
Harlequin.com
.

THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE

NIKKI LOGAN

To Louisa, Joss and Charlotte.

Thank you for a fabulous few months living with you in Notting Hill.

First round of drinks at Ignite is on me.

CONTENTS

 

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

PROLOGUE

Would Satan
wear eleven-micron wool?

Izzy Dean could tell, even from this side of her boss's expensive desk twelve storeys up her firm's London high-rise, that Harry Mitchell's flash charcoal suit would be as soft as a kitten to touch. Her fingers practically itched to stroke the expensive fabric.

Maybe she could cop a feel as she leaned in to smack that smug grin off his designer-stubbled face.

‘Careful, Dean, you look like you want to deck me.'

‘Do I?' Izzy feigned. Not that he'd believe innocence from her for one moment. He was way too used to sparring with her.

Lord, as career-enders went, wouldn't that
be a spectacular way to go? Bunch up all those muscles she'd developed cleaning fast-food kitchens as a kid and—pow—set Mitchell right on his sanctimonious, perfectly sculpted arse right here in his own fishbowl office. She'd storm out amid a standing ovation from the entire downtrodden department.

‘Hello?'

A large face loomed in her blurred vision and she snapped her focus back to steady blue eyes—
oasis
, according to the ‘what colour are his eyes?' chart in her favourite battered old chick magazine. With flecks of
cougar blue.

Not that she'd looked him up, specifically…
*cough*

He even had eyelashes like thick, fringing palm trees to go with the whole oasis thing. Except there was nothing at all quenching about Harry Mitchell's piercing stare. Instead, it smouldered like a volcanic spring that radiated heat towards her at the most inopportune moments.

Like right now.

‘You're angry.'

‘And that's why you get the big bucks, Mitchell,' she simmered, ‘that incomparable attention to detail.'

‘Funny that you should mention detail—'

‘There is nothing wrong with my report!'

‘Not technically, no…'

She tossed her short hair back and stared him down. ‘Are the numbers right?'

‘You're the go-to person in the office when your colleagues can't solve something.' He glared. ‘Of course they're right.'

‘Then the report is fine. I see no reason to waste my time doing it again.'

He speared frustrated fingers through his hair and released a waft of something delicious and masculine into the small glass office.

Not delicious smell,
she told herself.
Boss smell. Bad.

‘Is “fine” really the way you'd like to be thought of up the food chain?' he asked.

Oh, come on. ‘I've worked here a lot longer than you. They know my work.'

‘This work?' He held up her most recent report. ‘Or this one?'

Izzy glanced at the plain folder he'd picked up with his other hand. ‘What is that?'

Though her bottom lip apparently knew exactly what it was. It snuck in between her teeth and surrendered to their gentle gnaw. Mitchell's focus faltered for half a heartbeat.

But he was a fast rebounder. ‘I pulled one of your reports from your first months at Broadmore Natále. It's outstanding.'

Finally!
Some acknowledgement… Only twelve months in the making.

But he wasn't done. ‘It's nothing like today's effort. How long do you imagine you'll be able to continue trading on your early reputation, Dean?'

She flattened her hands on his desk and leaned closer. ‘I don't recall a Pulitzer Prize being in the essential criteria for this role.'

The folder hit his desk with a thud and his accent grew more pronounced, the way it always did when he was bad-tempered. He moved around the desk to her side and glared down at her. ‘Your report is flat and dull and I want to know why.'

Izzy fought hard not to let the sexy Aussie twang distract her. ‘Perhaps you'd like me to write you a report on the subject?'

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