The Pitch: City Love 2 by Belinda Williams Page A

relationship we shared meant a lot to me. I’d never really had anyone to confide in about my business and I was finding Paul’s perspective made such a difference to my state of mind. Not to mention our relaxed, friendly banter – it was something I’d grown really fond of.
    I sighed again then turned and walked in the direction of my office.
    As tantalizing as Paul Neilsen was, his role as trusted business associate, and possibly now a friend, meant more to me than any deprived single woman fantasy.
    Maybe he was right. It was time to get out and have some fun.
    *
    “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
    My statement was met with a look of such amusement, I couldn’t help but laugh.
    “Scarlett appears to have that effect on people.”
    The second I’d met John Hart, I’d liked him immediately. Tall and powerfully built, with amused warm brown eyes framed by an unruly fringe of black hair, he was an intriguing blend of Asian and western features. A combination that was almost certainly derived from mixed parentage, and it appeared he’d inherited the best of both cultures. At first glance, I wondered if a blind date wasn’t such a bad idea after all, except infuriatingly, Paul was still on my mind. From the looks leveled John’s way from the other women on the beach, he wouldn’t have any trouble finding a woman to take my place.
    “That was a pretty successful first attempt,” he told me, flicking back his dark hair for about the hundredth time in the last half hour. “Next time, try to grab the wave a few seconds earlier and you’ll find you have a better chance of getting up on the board.”
    I considered his comment and the waves rolling toward me with deceptive strength. When I told Scarlett the blind date was out of the question, I asked her if she had any ideas about distracting me from work for the weekend instead. She’d teed up a surfing lesson with – you guessed it – John.
    Not that I was complaining. I was having fun. John was a good teacher and incredibly calm, not to mention patient.
    “Alright, I’ll try again.”
    I flipped my body back onto the board. I did my best to paddle to an area where the waves were breaking, but not with such force they’d drown me in my amusing attempts to ride them. Fortunately it was still early and the wind hadn’t picked up yet, so the conditions were pretty good.
    I turned the board and waited, while John looked on from the shallows. His impressive form was all strong legs and muscled forearms. A swoon-worthy body nicely defined in a fitted black wet suit. God knows why Scarlett hadn’t gone for him. She went for so many men that I couldn’t determine why this fine specimen of a man had escaped her clutches.
    I looked back to see a wave rolling in my direction and started paddling. To my surprise and sheer terror, the wave pushed me and the board forward. My paddling turned frenzied. I took a deep breath and, with all the courage I could muster, grabbed the front of the board. I attempted to heft myself into a standing position, just like John had shown me.
    Height was usually a strength of mine when it came to sports. Netball, running, swimming – the length of my torso, arms and legs had always been to my advantage. Right now however, I was finding my length downright frustrating. The requirement that I jump from lying to standing in a confident and coordinated manner while atop a floating board at the mercy of the waves was proving harder than I imagined.
    Miraculously, I found my footing on the board and did my best to stand up. For one tantalizing second I was almost upright. I started to stretch out my arms for balance. Then the board was unceremoniously flung out from beneath me by the invisible surfing god who commanded the ocean. He was no fool and recognized that Madeleine Spencer might be good at many things, but this was not one of them. Yet.
    After being submerged underneath a whirlpool of whitewash and sand, I eventually managed to