Playboy Pilot by Penelope Ward EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Penelope Ward
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
CHRIS HEMSWORTH.
I flipped the page of the American Airlines Worldwide Destinations
catalog through the section on Australia. The pages were filled with colorful
pictures—kangaroos, turquoise water, that big white building that looked like
a bunch of sails blowing in the wind. Pretty. But not what I was really
interested in.
Liam Hemsworth. Australian accents. Oh my God. Two of them.
The next page had a worldwide map. I followed the dotted route line, my
finger tracing Miami to Sydney. Crap. That’s a long ass plane ride.
Sighing, I moved on. The next page—London.
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Robert Pattinson.
Theo James.
More sexy accents, with less than a third of the flying time. I dog-eared
the corner of the page and kept flipping.
Italy. George Clooney. Who cares if he’s practically the same age as my
father? The man was like a good bottle of Cabernet—better with age and
meant to be savored in your mouth. Another dog-eared corner.
The bartender interrupted my destination shopping and pointed to my half
empty martini glass. “Can I get you another Appletini?”
“Not yet. Thanks.”
He nodded and headed to the other end of the packed bar. I was already
on my second drink and had no idea how many hours I was going to be stuck
in this airport lounge. It was probably a good idea that I pick where I’d be
spending the next ten days before the alcohol kicked in too much.
Santorini. Hmmm. The pictures looked beautiful. Stark white buildings
with bright royal blue doors and shutters. Yet…I really had no idea where I
wanted to go. Nothing was jumping out at me; not even a tropical island was
calling my name.
Blowing out a deep breath as I realized I was just about at the end of the
thick vacation catalog, I lifted my drink to my mouth and mumbled to myself,
“Where in the world should I go?”
I wasn’t expecting an actual answer.
“My place isn’t far.” A deep, baritone voice said from next to me. Not
realizing anyone had taken the bar stool on my right, I startled, tipping my
martini glass and spilling what was left of my drink all over my brand new
top.
“Shit!” I stood, quickly grabbing for a napkin from the bar and started to
blot at my brand new blouse. “This is a Roland Mouret.”
“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well then don’t sneak up on people.”
“Relax. I’ll pay for it to be dry-cleaned. Alright?”
“It’s going to stain.”
“Then I’ll buy you a new one, sweetheart. It’s just a shirt.”
My head snapped up. “Did you hear me say it was Roland Mouret? It was
eight hundred dollars.”
“For that? It’s a T-shirt.”
“It’s designer.”
“It’s still a damn T-shirt. Don’t get me wrong. You fill it out pretty
nicely. But you got ripped off. Ever hear of the Gap?”
“Are you joking?” I asked before finally giving up on my blotting and
looking up at the man who had some nerve.
Shit.
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