A Matter of Trust: London Calling Book One Read Online Free Page A

She was just a woman. One among many.  
    He chalked up his reaction when meeting her as an aberration. Too much work, too little sleep, or some combination. He needed a night out, a date with any one of the women he had listed in his phone’s contacts. He was certain he’d call one of them soon, any day.
    He told himself all of that while he made his way to her office, an area from which he’d steadfastly kept away. And he told himself he was immune until he stood staring at her in the doorway, momentarily stunned anew. She worked on, unaware of his presence. Taking a seat, he clasped his hands before she could see their fine tremor.  
    He was caught a bit off guard. He tried to put them both at ease with some light conversation, but he certainly wasn’t flirting with her. She’d been wrong to be rude. He had no intentions toward her; he was merely being friendly.  
    He walked out of the elevator, pausing by Natalie’s desk.  
    “What’s on my calendar for tomorrow morning, first thing?”
    “You have a video conference with the Leeds branch. You’ll be talking to your directors there.”
    “Cancel it. Reschedule. Clear my time from eight to nine. I’ll be attending Aidan’s presentation in the board room.”
    Natalie’s eyes narrowed. He knew she was aware that Devon was leading the project. He normally never attended project meetings, preferring to hear the summaries from his directors with their recommendations.
    But he sometimes made exceptions. Of course he did.
    ***
    It was brutally early the next morning when the incessant ringing of her phone jarred Devon awake. Blearily, she fumbled before answering, “Hello?”
    “Dev! Top o’ the morning to you, lass!” Devon winced as Dominic Martin’s voice boomed out his greeting.  
    “Dom,” she sighed. “You know I’m in England. Not Ireland. And please lower your voice,” she groaned while fumbling to sit up amongst her covers. Tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, she folded her legs to keep covered in the chilly morning air.  
    “I see someone still isn’t a morning person. Late night, sugar?” Dominic purred in the gravelly voice natural to him, with a hint of an American South accent.  
    She blinked at the bedside clock, trying to bring it into focus. “ Yes. We didn’t finish up until after 2 a.m. Is it 4:30 ? God, why are you calling me at 4:30 in the morning?” She started to tip sideways back into bed.  
    “Well, it wasn’t to hear your chipper voice,” he snarked. “No, I’m waking you up to share good news. I’m coming to visit. Looks like I’ll be coming to London a little later this year. How’s that for a good reason to get out of bed and start clearing up?” Dominic knew Devon’s interests lay in spreadsheets and books, not cleaning and dusting. They always joked she worked in an organized state of disarray.
    Wide awake, she froze in the act of swinging her legs to fully sit up. “That’s… wonderful. Why?”
    There was a quick beat of silence. “Dev? Why do I get the impression you’re not happy? Is something wrong?”  
    Devon loved her family. Dominic Martin and his father, Patrick, were no less included in that group than her own father. She’d joked about having dual parentage, alternately raised by her dad, then Patrick and his wife Alice when she’d still been alive.  
    But now Devon was determined to make her own way, on her own terms. A lonely desire to see her closest friend and surrogate brother warred with fierce independence. Love won out. “No, Dom. Everything is great, other than being crazy busy. I may not have all the time I’d like to spend with you, that’s all. But we’re flexible, right?” She paused, hopeful she hadn’t hurt him with her hesitation. “I’m glad you’re coming. I didn’t think you’d be able to with your workload.”
    “I have an opportunity over there that I’d rather look into sooner than later.” Dom had started his own tech software company