The Upper Crush

She’s got a plan. He’s got abs and a giant… ego. 

Lady Estelle Foxbrooke is done cleaning up the mess left by her wild parents. Her goal? Save the family estate, her way. The problem? James Hunter-Savage. Her twin brother’s nemesis and her very unwanted new business partner.

James was living the dream in London until his career crashed and burned. Now he’s back in the countryside, licking his wounds and stuck working with Estelle – the sharp-witted, maddeningly gorgeous woman who seems to enjoy making his life hell.

But when their fiery clashes spark something steamier, suddenly the estate isn’t the only thing on the line. With tempers flaring, passions blazing, and the biggest event of the year teetering on the brink of disaster, can James and Estelle put their differences aside long enough to save the day?

Willow was playing ‘Moon River’, and Estelle let James pull her closer, until she was against his hard chest. One of his hands grazed her shoulder, the other rested at the base of her spine.

She shivered, her body craving more of his touch.

He dipped his head. ‘Are you cold?’ he murmured in her ear.

‘Do you think they bought it?’ she whispered back.

‘The festival?’

‘No, us.’

He paused before replying. ‘I don’t know.’

Estelle looked around. Henry stood at the side of the room, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at them. Several people glanced from his grim expression to the two of them dancing.

Vivienne glided to her son’s side and walked him away. Was it too late? Did everyone know they were faking it?

‘We need to kiss,’ Estelle hissed.

James’s head snapped back. ‘What?’

‘You have to kiss me. To make this look real.’

His gaze flicked to her lips, becoming heated and intense.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Unable to summon words, she nodded.

His face lowered, then stopped, his features tight with tension. ‘How do you want me to kiss you?’

‘What do you mean?’ she stammered.

‘How should I kiss you?’ he repeated, his tone rough and demanding.

‘Er, the normal way?’

‘Closed or open lips?’

A flush rippled through her. ‘I don’t know! Just get on with it!’

‘Estelle,’ he growled. ‘If I’m going to kiss you in front of everyone, and make it look like we’ve done it a thousand times before, then I need to know what you like.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes, it does.’

He suddenly stepped away, took her hand, and marched her across the dance floor to the exit.

‘Where are we going?’ she whispered.

He didn’t reply, leading her along the empty corridor and around the first corner. No-one was about.

Stopping, James dropped her hand. ‘Show me how you want to be kissed.’

She licked her lips. ‘Um…’

He moved closer. ‘Estelle…’

Stepping back, her heels hit the skirting board.

Placing his hands on the wall, James lowered his head, stopping with his mouth just inches from hers.

His presence was intoxicating and overwhelming, his scent making her knees wobble, the inky blackness of his eyes drawing her in, his ragged breaths caressing her skin like a flame.

‘Show me.’ His voice was a command and a plea.

Just kiss him! It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t mean anything!

His gaze travelled over her face, as if wanting to drink in every part of her. 

‘Star,’ he murmured.

The word was her undoing, unravelling any resolve and letting it drop to the floor. Trembling, she brought her hands to the sides of his face, then lifted her mouth to his.

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