Sarah Morgan - New York, Actually - A sparkling romantic comedy from the bestselling Queen of Romance

Finally, her past was exactly where it should be. Behind her. And she made a point of never looking in her rearview mirror.

Happy, she settled herself more comfortably in her favorite chair and shifted her focus to her laptop.

“Okay, Decaffeinated, let me show you where you’ve been going wrong.”

She started typing again.

A woman wants a man who understands her, and a gift should demonstrate that understanding. It isn’t about the value, it’s about the sentiment. Choose something that shows you know her, and that you listen to her. Choose something —

“And here’s the important part, Decaffeinated, so pay attention,” she muttered under her breath.

— something that no other person would think to buy her, because no one knows her like you do. Do that, and I guarantee your girlfriend will remember that birthday forever. And she’ll remember you.

Satisfied that if the man listened to her advice he might have a half-decent chance of pleasing the woman he loved, Molly reached for her glass of filtered water and checked the time on her laptop. Time for her morning run. And she didn’t intend to go alone. No matter how busy her working day, this was time they always spent together.

Shutting down her computer, she stood up and stretched, feeling the whisper of silk brush against her skin. She’d been typing for an hour while barely moving and her neck ached. She still had a stack of individual consultations waiting for her attention, but she’d deal with those later.

She glanced through the window, watching as darkness slowly melted away to be replaced by a wash of sunshine. For a moment the view was filled with streaks of burnt gold and the dazzle of glass. It was a city of sharp edges and towering possibilities, its darker side masked by the shimmer of sunshine.

Every other city would be waking up at this time, but this was New York. You couldn’t wake up, when you’d never been to sleep.

She dressed quickly, swapping pajamas for a soft T-shirt, Lycra leggings and her favorite dark purple running shoes. At the last moment she grabbed a sweatshirt because an early spring morning in New York City could still bite through a layer of clothing.

Scooping her hair into a careless ponytail, she reached for a water bottle.

There was still no movement from the bed. He lay in a tangle of bedding, eyes closed, not stirring.

“Hey, handsome.” Amused, she nudged him. “Did I finally wear you out yesterday? That’s a first.” He was in his prime. Fit and shockingly attractive. When they ran together in the park, heads turned in envy and it made her glow with pride because they could look, but she was the one who got to go home with him.

In this world where it was almost impossible to find the right person, she’d found someone who was protective, loyal and affectionate, and he was all hers. She knew, deep in her heart, that she could depend on him. She knew, even without marriage vows, that he was going to love her in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better or for worse.

She was lucky, lucky, lucky.

What they shared was free of all the stress and challenges that so often marred a relationship. What they shared was perfect.

She watched, her heart filled with love, as he finally yawned and stretched slowly.

Dark eyes locked on hers.

“You,” she said, “are insanely handsome and everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. Have I told you that lately?”

He sprang from the bed, tail wagging, ready for action, and Molly dropped to her knees to hug him.

“Good morning, Valentine. How’s the greatest dog in the whole wide world feeling today?”

The Dalmatian gave a single bark, licked her face and Molly grinned.

Another day was dawning in New York City, and she was ready to roll.

* * *

“Let me get this straight. You want to borrow a dog so that you can use it to meet a dog-loving girl? Have you no shame?”

“None.” Ignoring his sister’s disapproval, Daniel carefully removed a dog hair from his suit. “But I don’t see how that fact is connected to my request.”

He thought about the girl in the park, with her endless legs and that sleek dark ponytail swinging like a pendulum across her back as she ran. Since the first day he’d seen her, pounding her way along one of the many leafy trails that cobwebbed through Central Park, with her dog bounding ahead of her, he’d been smitten. It wasn’t just her hair that caught his attention, or those incredible legs. It was the air of confidence. Daniel was drawn to confidence, and this woman looked as if she had life by the throat and was strangling the hell out of it.

He’d always enjoyed his early morning run. Lately it had taken on a new dimension. He’d started timing his run to coincide with hers even though it meant arriving in the office a little later. Despite those sacrifices on his part, so far she hadn’t even noticed him. Did that surprise him? Yes. When it came to women, he’d never had to try too hard. Women tended to notice him. However, the girl in the park seemed unusually preoccupied by her running and her dog, a situation that had led him to the decision that it was time to raise his game and tap into his creative side.

But first he had to talk his way past one of his sisters and so far that wasn’t looking good. He’d been hoping for Harriet, but instead he’d gotten Fliss, who was much tougher to get around.

Eyes narrowed, she planted herself in front of him and folded her arms. “Seriously? You’re going to pretend you own a dog in order to hit on a woman? You don’t think that’s contrived? Dishonest?”

“It’s not dishonest. I’m not claiming ownership. I’m simply walking a dog.”

“An action that suggests a love of animals.”

“I don’t have a problem with animals. Can I remind you I was the one who rescued that animal from Harlem last month? In fact he would do fine. I’ll borrow him.” The door opened and Daniel flinched as an energetic Labrador sprinted into the room. He didn’t have a problem with animals unless they were about to get up close and personal with his favorite suit. “He’s not going to jump up, is he?”

“Because you’re such a dog lover.” Fliss caught the dog firmly by its collar. “This is Poppy. Harriet is fostering her. Note the ‘her’ in that sentence. She’s a girl, Dan.”

“That explains why she finds me irresistible.” Hiding his laughter, he lowered his hand and played with the dog’s ears. “Hello, beautiful. How would you like a romantic walk in the park? We can watch the sunrise.”

“She doesn’t want a walk in the park, or anything else. You’re not her type. She’s had a rough time and she’s nervous around people, especially men.”

“I’m good with nervous women. But if I’m not her type, then tell her not to drop hairs on my suit. Especially blond ones. I’m due in court in a couple of hours. I have a closing.” Daniel felt his phone buzz, pulled it out of his pocket and checked the message. “Duty calls. I need to go.”

“I thought you were staying for breakfast. We haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’ve been busy. Half of Manhattan has decided to divorce, or so it seems. So you’ll have a dog here ready for me at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow?”

“Just because a woman goes running on her own, doesn’t mean she’s single. Maybe she’s married.”

“She’s single.”

“So?” Fliss scowled. “Even if she is single, that doesn’t mean she wants a relationship. It bugs the crap out of me when men assume a single woman is only single because she’s waiting for a man. Get over yourselves.”

Daniel studied his sister. “Which side of bed did you climb out of this morning?”