Oceans Apart: Book 1 Read online

  By

  Amanda Heartley

  Copyright © 2014 Amanda Heartley

  Published By: Sexcessica

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 - Ginny

  Chapter 2 - Tristan

  Chapter 3 - Ginny

  Chapter 4 - Tristan

  Chapter 5 - Ginny

  Chapter 6 - Tristan

  Chapter 7 - Ginny

  Chapter 8 - Tristan

  Chapter 9 - Ginny

  Chapter 10 - Tristan

  Chapter 11 - Ginny

  Chapter 12 - Tristan

  Chapter 13 - Ginny

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books by Amanda

  About The Author

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Amanda Heartley

  Published By: Sexcessica

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  …and get an email as soon as the next book is available. Don’t miss a single minute getting the next installment of Amanda Heartley’s captivating erotic romance series.

  Book Description

  It's been months since the big break-up, and Virginia is just trying to keep her chin up and her head down working. She knows she needs to “get with the program” as her best friend, Kari, keeps reiterating, but she’s not about to go through any more heartbreak, and another man is not on the agenda. Not even a casual encounter.

  Until Tristan. She’s immediately attracted to his striking good looks and an English accent to die for. He’s everything Ginny always dreamed of…bold, captivating, and passionate.

  Now, he’s five thousand miles away and her past is about to get real.

  Chapter 1 — Ginny

  “Tell me why we’re here again?” I asked, leaning over into my best friend Kari so I could half scream in her ear. I love clubbing, but this one was particularly loud tonight. Partying on the weekends with Kari was one of the things I looked forward to all week. Especially weeks like this when work had been extremely draining.

  The Python Club was the newest club that had opened up downtown, and Friday night was usually full of twenty-somethings drinking, dancing, and mingling.

  It didn’t have the biggest dance floor I’d ever seen, but it was the liveliest. And it was packed. Girls dressed in their sexiest, skimpiest clothes to get a primo spot on that floor, wiggling and bumping on the small platform right in front of the DJ.

  It would have been excessively dark for my taste, except for the multi-colored lights that flashed every so often reflecting onto the disco ball hanging from the ceiling. The bar, though, was well lit. Kari and I had already danced a little, and were taking a much-needed break to rest our feet and have a couple of drinks.

  Kari laughed and motioned to the bartender for another one of the frosty orange drinks she always ordered. “Because it’s Friday night, and we are meant to be having fun like the hot, carefree, single women we are,” she said, sticking her nose in the air in a fake posh way.

  “Right,” I mumbled under my breath, still nursing my vodka cranberry. “Does it still count as being carefree if we have to say we’re carefree, though?”

  “Gin.” Kari leveled a firm stare at me, and I rolled my eyes at her, laughing out loud. What a pair.

  “Alright, alright!” I had to relent. “Carefree, single women. Got it.”

  “Don’t forget hot,” Kari added. “That part’s important.” She slid her hands down her sides and did a little shimmy. “You gotta feel the hotness or no dude is ever going to want to feel your hotness, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean. Duh, who do you think you’re talking to here?” This was just par for the course when it came to Kari, though, and I just shook my head and smiled rather than comment on it anymore.

  Kari shrugged as if she couldn’t be bothered. She had the kind of self-confidence I could only dream about. She looked great, leaning casually against the bar in a purple dress that hugged her ample curves in a way that was more flattering than revealing. Of course, the neckline, which was currently showing off a good four inches of her cleavage, did enough revealing that the rest of the dress didn’t have to. Her blonde hair was pulled back and fell down her shoulders in soft waves, and it brought attention to the soft roundness of her face.

  This was the kind of thing we did every weekend, dance, drink, and watch the hot, gyrating men on the dance floor. We’d drink a little, dance a little, and Kari would smile and flirt with any man who looked her way. She had her unique brand of sarcastic charm, and I would just sit there, smiling, watching her booze, and schmooze. I had more fun watching her than I did dancing. I knew this wasn’t going to be how I’d meet the man of my dreams. This was exactly how I’d meet more assholes like Brad and some of the other losers I’d dated before. Total fucking jerks who were more interested in getting their dick sucked than anything else.

  Not that I had issues with blowjobs or casual sex, because I didn’t. In fact, it was something I enjoyed and sometimes missed, now that I was single. However, I wasn’t looking to have random sexual encounters anymore. I was looking for more than that in a guy. Something more than just a casual commitment or a sport fuck, but it’s so freaking hard to find someone who wants the same thing.

  Sometimes, I even wondered if the problem was me. I hadn’t been the best of company since the big break up with Brad, but I was trying. I was here, wasn’t I? That should count for something.

  Kari got a lot of male attention, because even though she wasn’t a size two, it was clear she knew she was hot. According to her, as soon as I got with the program, the men would do the same with me. I just wasn’t too sure I wanted that kind of attention.

  “No. No. No, no, no,” Kari said, snapping her fingers in front of my face, trying to bring me out of my depressing thoughts. “None of that, you hear me? Bartender, get my friend another vodka cranberry, would you? She needs a lift.”

  “Kari, I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “No, you’re moping. Look at you, girl. You look hot all over yourself tonight, and the men are trying to check you out, but you look like you might cry all over them at any second, and that’s not sexy.” Kari looked around, grinning when she spotted a man sitting not too far from us at one of the bar stools. “Excuse me, hello? Hi. Can I ask you something?” she called, trying to get his attention.

  “Kari, what the hell are you doing?” I hissed. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

  “Proving a point.”

  The man turned his head to look at us, raising an eyebrow. “Are you talking to me?” he asked, and both of us damn near fell over at his accent. It was English, and it was hot. I’d always been a sucker for a man with an accent, and Kari knew it. And she had to be dreaming up something, if the devious grin on her face was anything to go by.

  I couldn’t blame her. Whoever this man was, he was freakin’ gorgeous. His hair was a light shade of brown and he had piercing blue eyes that seemed to reflect the light around them. There was a smile playing in the corners of his mouth, and I stood there and watched, as he looked Kari up and down.

  “Why, yes, I think I am,” Kari replied to his question with a grin. “This is my friend Ginny.” She pointed. “Right now she’s having an issue believing she’s hot. So I thought, why not get a second opinion, right? And there you were sitting alone and drinking what looks like a Jack and Coke, so you seemed like the perfect person to h
elp out.”

  I wondered if it were possible to suddenly turn invisible. I could feel my cheeks getting hotter and hotter from embarrassment, and when the bartender slid a new drink in front of me, I grabbed it and took a hurried gulp, damn near choking in the process.

  “Well, it is very kind of you to try and help your friend like that,” the man said, and he turned around on the barstool to look at us properly. His eyes slipped from Kari to me, and I could feel the way he was looking at me. His gaze was just shy of being predatory, and it was all I could do to force myself to stand there, my fingers in a death grip on my glass.

  I knew exactly how I looked. Just barely over five feet tall, with long dark hair that I had curled and let fall where it wanted to just before I’d left the house that evening. My dress was an online find, a deep crimson vintage number, which hugged my waist before flaring out over my curvy hips. People always complimented me on it when I wore it out, but now I was wondering if it made me look fat and if this man was about to tell me so.

  I fidgeted a little and looked up to meet his eyes, startled when there was something warm in them that matched the smile curving over his face.

  “I’d have to say you’re wrong there, ma’am,” he said, finally tearing his eyes from my face to look at Kari. “Hot is not a proper word to describe Ginny here. I would go for something like…stunning or gorgeous…delectable. Maybe even delightful.”

  Oh. Well. Fuck.

  That wasn’t at all what I was expecting him to say, but from the huge grin spreading over Kari’s face, it was exactly the sort of reaction she was looking for. “You have good taste, sir, and a fine accent to boot. I’m Kari, you’ve already been introduced to Ginny, so why don’t you tell us your name?”

  “How rude of me,” he said, leaning an elbow on the smooth wood of the bar. “Name’s Tristan. A pleasure to meet both of you lovely ladies.”

  “Is your accent real or the same as a padded bra?” Kari asked.

  “Kari!” I groaned, not knowing how she could say something like that to this gorgeous stranger.

  “I’m…not sure I understand,” Tristan said, looking confused.

  I sighed. “She means…you know how women put on padded bras before they go out so they seem like they’ve got bigger…um…assets?”

  “Ah.” Tristan laughed, and it was a deep, rumbly sound I could hear easily over the music. “No, I didn’t just put the accent on for the night. I’m visiting your fair city from London. On business.”

  “Ooh, a businessman,” Kari chimed in, leaning her chin on her hands and batting her eyes at him. “Tell us more.”

  A look passed over Tristan’s face and he shook his head. “I don’t like to talk about work on a Friday night, you know. Especially not when in the company of two lovely young women. Not when there are drinks to be had and whatever this song that’s playing is blaring so charmingly through my eardrums.”

  That made me laugh, and I sheepishly covered my mouth with my hand to avoid giggling out loud. He smiled warmly at me and then slipped down from the barstool, offering his hand to both of us. “Would you ladies care to dance? Seems a shame to waste this lively beat.”

  Kari and I exchanged glances, and I could see the scheming behind her eyes before she even opened her mouth. “Ginny loves dancing, don’t you, Gin?” she said, pushing me forward with a not-at-all subtle hand at my back. “Me, I prefer to stay by the bar. Never know what you might see from over here. But you two have fun now.” She waggled her fingers at Tristan and me in a clear “go on” signal.

  We were still giggling when he took my hand and led me away from the bar and into the writhing mass that was the dance floor. The song changed to something slower with a good beat I vaguely recognized from the radio.

  Despite not being from LA, Tristan looked like a native in his dark jeans and tight t-shirt, and it could have been a somewhat shabby look for a club like this, but it was clear he wore expensive clothes. He had no problem blending in with the other men in their button-downs and slacks. And he looked better and more comfortable than any of them. Before we’d even stepped onto the dance floor properly, his body was moving to the beat, as he grinned and held onto my hand, suddenly twirling me around.

  I couldn’t help but smile and laugh as I danced with him, forgetting to be nervous or self-conscious for a while. There was something in the way he carried himself, the confident bravado I could feel radiating from him, that made me feel more at ease with him as well.

  We couldn’t talk much over the pounding music, but apparently, we didn’t need to. We swayed together easily, staying close to each other, even though I could see the other women around us eyeing him up and down and why wouldn’t they? There was something almost exotic about Tristan, and it was clear that everyone in the room could feel it as well.

  But for the moment at least, his attention was on me and only me. He pulled me closer to him, dancing right up to me as the music blasted throughout the club. Those blue eyes were so often on my face, though they occasionally traveled down my body to my hips, which were moving in time to the beat. I’m not the best dancer, but I have fairly good rhythm and didn’t have any trouble keeping up with him.

  I glanced over to the bar and saw Kari talking to a redheaded man who was leaning way too close to her, and I had to laugh when she sent him away looking dejected.

  The music became quieter and Tristan leaned closer to me. “Your friend is quite formidable, isn’t she?”

  I actually snorted as I laughed. “That’s one way to put it, yeah. She’s been called a lot worse than that before. I think her last boyfriend called her ‘bitch’ but she’s not really, she just doesn’t take any crap from people, and a lot of guys aren’t huge fans of it.”

  Tristan grinned. “Of course we’re not. We like to think we’re in charge.”

  “We? Does that mean you’re like the rest of them?” I quipped, with a sassy smile.

  “Oh, Ginny, I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met.”

  “How would you know? I just barely met you.” I asked, cracking my best lopsided smile. “I’ve met all kinds of people. Some of them were even English, too. In fact, one of the guys at work is from Australia and he has an accent, too. So you can’t claim that makes you special…although you are rather charming.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. And if truth be told, I don’t have an accent, you do.” He laughed out loud, wiggling his eyebrows, and in an American accent that sounded more country than California, he said, “Howdy, ma’am.”

  I laughed, “Does everyone in England think we come from Texas or Oklahoma? I’m a California girl and I don’t think I’ve ever said ‘howdy’ in my whole life.” I bit my lip to stifle the laugh. He was nice, funny, interesting, and I wondered what it would be like to get to know him a little better. I looked up into his cool blue eyes and said, “You’ve been watching too many movies.”

  “Yeah, maybe I have.”

  “So…how long are you in town for?”

  “Only for the weekend. My flight back to London is on Sunday. The jet lag is going to be a bloody nightmare, and I’m straight back to work on Monday.”

  “Oh. Uh…would you want to…maybe do something tomorrow? Kari and I usually go down to the beach, but she’s got to go visit her parents this weekend. So, I mean, if you wanted to see some stuff before you left…?” I left it open-ended and told myself I wouldn’t be disappointed if he said no. It was just a casual thing, after all, and he was probably busy with whatever business had brought him here in the first place.

  “That sounds brilliant,” Tristan said, with a bright smile. “I haven’t really had a chance to do much sightseeing since I’ve been here. I’m here with my father and he’s had me in a suit in a bloody board room somewhere every moment of every day since we arrived.”

  “Will daddy let you come out to play, then?” I teased.

  He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Let me? I’m a grown man, and I’d very much like to see him try to s
top me,” he said. “My hotel isn’t far from here. Would it be terribly inconvenient to ask you to come pick me up?”

  “No,” I replied, shaking my head quickly. “Not at all. Just tell me where, and I’ll be there.”

  “Brilliant. I think you might have just saved this trip for me. I’ll have to come up with some way to repay you.” And the gleam in his eye was very promising.

  Chapter 2 — Tristan

  In all honesty, I didn’t really want to call my father that morning but I knew he’d only phone me at some point and spoil my day with Ginny if I didn’t, so I had to head him off at the pass nice and early. I wanted just one day to wind down from the busy week we’d had with clients and now that I’d found a companion, all the better, so I dialed his number and braced myself for his response.

  Dear old Dad didn’t disappoint. My expectations of how the conversation would go were right on the mark. He started reeling off reasons why it was idiotic to go off on a random beach trip with some girl I’d only just met, when there was paperwork to be done and a plane to catch early the next morning. I just let him rant on for a bit, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder and interjecting with the occasional “Yes, Dad” and “No, Dad” while I looked through my wardrobe for some comfortable clothes to wear.

  “Are you listening to me, son?” he demanded.

  “Yes Dad, I’m listening.” I muttered under my breath. My father, Martin Armstrong, was an extremely wealthy and powerful man, and he expected to be treated all the time with the respect that kind of money commanded. Even when dealing with his own son! Christ, he’s talking to me like I’m six, not twenty-six!

  I had total respect for the old man. He had built a billion dollar company from the ground up with just my mother and a few of their closest associates. Together they’d turned Armstrong Construction into one of the leading companies in Europe, and we were in LA right now talking to clients as we were starting to do more projects overseas.