Seduced by Stratton (The English Brothers Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

guess that’s a no, huh?”
    “That’s a no,” she said.
    “Well, when you’re ready to say yes, I’m ready to say yes too.”
    “Good to know,” she said distractedly, reaching for the door.
    His hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned around to face him. Dark brown eyes searched her face, resting on her lips before returning to her eyes and holding them.
    “I know we sort of joke about it, Val, but I mean it. Sometimes I lie in bed at night thinking about you, wondering what it would take to get a girl like you to go out with a regular guy like me. Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out at some point. You’re so beautiful I can’t get the words right when I’m around you, but I . . . well, I’d take care of you, I’d treat you right, Val. And it don’t bother me that you’re so smart, neither. So, uh, just think about it, okay?”
    Halfway through his speech her spirits had started lifting from the sweet sincerity of his words, only to be slapped down by his final comment. She patted his hand with a grim smile. “Okay. Thanks, Danny.”
    She pulled the studio door shut behind her, sighing as she found her coat in the bank of hooks, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and wiggled her fingers into puffy pink mittens.
    In one sentence, Danny had just illustrated the conundrum of Valeria’s existence with men. A doctoral student at UPenn, she was considered “too smart” by the boys in her neighborhood, but with her gregarious Italian family and Mediterranean looks, she believed she was “too ethnic” to be considered by the men she was attracted to—preppy, soft spoken, smart and devastatingly handsome men.
    Like Stratton English.
    Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she walked down the steps from the studio and out onto the bustling sidewalk. From the Italian Market—the neighborhood in South Philadelphia where Valeria had grown up—to the offices of English & Sons across from the 30 th Street Station was about a forty-five minute walk. So Valeria snuggled into her coat and scarf and took off at a clip toward the Schuylkill River, thinking about Stratton.
    A few months ago, he’d shown up—out of the blue—at her weekly Girls’ Night Out with Emily and Daisy at Mulligan’s. It was the first time she’d ever met him, and when she looked up at him standing at the foot of the table, she’d felt like one of the characters in a Looney Toons’ cartoon that has pinwheels for eyes and a tongue that drops to the tabletop, rolling to the source of its devotion like pink taffy.
    He was well over six feet tall with a crazy cut body, muscular and toned behind his still-crisp blue dress shirt. Her eyes slid to his forearms where his cuffs were rolled up to reveal springy dark blond hairs and a thick, corded arm. His dark blond hair was slightly wavy and he had light blue eyes. Real light blue, like Ian Somerhalder or Matt Bomer, with to-die-for lashes, a little darker than his hair and so long she wondered if falling snowflakes ever got caught in them. She dropped her glance to his lips and almost sighed. They were so perfect—firm, but soft-looking. But it wasn’t his body, hair, eyes or lips that most arrested her that first night. No. It was the way his cheeks caved in with two of the most adorable, playful, sexy dimples she’d ever seen on a man.
    Her heart had vaulted from starting line idling to first bend sprinting in the course of ten seconds, and it was a miracle she managed to say anything coherent. Luckily her loud mouth had kicked into autopilot, and when she invited him to sit down and join them, he looked surprised for a minute before saying yes.
    The thing is? It was an amazing night. He was funny and kind and interesting. Quiet at first, answering her with one-word answers, but as the beer flowed and the time flew, he loosened up and she relaxed. They had a surprising amount in common—they were both the fourth child of five, they both loved reading historical non-fiction, watching