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Authors: Sarah Morgan

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Jake was still looking at Paige. “Twice in your life you’ve told me that you love me, and each time I’ve handled it badly.”

“You were honest.”

“I wasn’t honest. I wasn’t honest with myself, and I wasn’t honest with you. But I’m being honest now. I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

How long had she dreamed of hearing him say those words to her?

“Jake—”

“You already know I do, but maybe you don’t know how much. I still need to show you that, and I will. I’ve been a coward and an idiot, but that ends now.”

She heard someone make a sound. It could have been Eva. It could have been Frankie. It could have been her.

She didn’t know, because Jake was still looking at her, and she’d waited to see that look in his eyes for so long she didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

“You love me?”

“I’ve always loved you, but love for me was the scariest thing that could happen to a person. Love, and you can lose. I didn’t want to lose. I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life, but I’ve never taken a risk with my heart. I told myself that I was protecting you, but mostly I was protecting myself. I told myself love was one risk that wasn’t worth the pain. But when you walked out last night I discovered the pain was there anyway, because I’d lost you. And I discovered that loving you, and being with you is more important than anything. I didn’t think I was ever going to find a woman worth taking that risk for. I was wrong.”

She’d promised herself that whatever he said to her when they finally met up, she’d smile her way through it and make it back to her room before crying.

But she hadn’t expected him to say what he’d just said.

“You’re sure you love me?”

“Very sure.” He gave a lopsided smile. “
Truly, Madly, Deeply
until I’m Sleepless in Manhattan.”

Emotion filled her. “I’ve told you, that’s not a movie.”

“It should be. It’s a great title. I bought you something.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small bag. “I hope you like it. It’s a shame you weren’t watching
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.”

She recognized the distinctive packaging and her heart started to beat a little faster.

She didn’t dare hope—

She’d done that once before and—

She peeped cautiously into the bag and something glittered at the bottom.

“A ring?” Hand shaking, she pulled it out. Why had he left it loose?

“Last time I gave you jewelry in a box you thought it might be a ring and it wasn’t. I saw the disappointment on your face. This time I didn’t want you to be in any doubt about what it was. The box is in my apartment if you want it. Marry me—” his voice was husky “—and I promise to keep you in lipstick for the rest of your life.”

She shifted her gaze from the gleaming diamond to his face. “
Marry
you?”

“Yes. I love you. You’re the only woman I want. The only woman I’ll ever want. And I’d take any risk to be with you.”

The silence around her was broken only by the distant sound of traffic.

Frankie was silent.

Matt didn’t move.

Even Eva had nothing to say.

Paige swallowed. “Jake—”

“It’s only ever been you, Paige. And I know I’m going to need more than words to convince you, so I designed something to help you make up your mind.” He reached into his other pocket and pulled out his phone. “I made an app for you. It’s called Should Paige Marry Jake. It’s pretty self-explanatory so you, being Geek Girl, probably won’t have any issues with it but I can walk you through it if you like.”

“Are you calling me Geek Girl?” But happiness bubbled up inside her. “You’ve designed a proposal app?”

“No, but now you mention it, it’s an interesting idea because trust me, proposing is a terrifying thing. One knee, both knees, no knees? Shirt on, shirt off. The options are limitless.”

“Definitely shirt off,” Eva breathed, and Paige gave a weak laugh.

“I don’t care if you’re on your knees or naked—the only thing I care about is that you love me.” Emotion overwhelmed her. How did a person go from such misery to such happiness and survive it? “You’re asking me to marry you? Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I want you to be sure, too, so before you answer me you’d better check the app. You said you wanted to make your own choices, so I designed something to help you. This choice is important. You don’t want to make the wrong decision.”

Frankie stood up and leaned over her shoulder, fascinated. “That’s pretty cool. Answer the questions, Paige.”

“You can swipe for yes or no.” Jake showed her. “What’s your favorite drink in the morning. Coffee. Mine, too. See? We’re perfectly matched.”

“Wait a minute—” She swiped one answer, then changed her mind and tried a different answer. And frowned. “Doesn’t matter what answer I give, it’s still telling me we’re perfectly matched.”

Jake gave a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“You fixed it?” Her eyes gleamed. “I thought you were a risk taker.”

“There are some things I’m not prepared to risk, and you’re one of them.”

She knew she’d never forget the look in his eyes right at that moment.

It was all she needed to see.

“I don’t need this to help me make my choice.” She slid the phone back into his pocket and he pulled her closer, his expression serious.

“Before you give me your answer, I should warn you that I’m never going to stop protecting you. I love you and care about you, and protecting you is part of that.” He smoothed her hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “I do promise not to make your choices for you. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect that choice.”

Her vision was misty and she blinked several times to clear it.

She slid the ring onto her finger and looked up at him, knowing that everything she was feeling was in her eyes. “I love you, too. You know I always have. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I’ll marry you whether the app says I should or not. And you can protect me, as long as you don’t mind that I’ll be protecting you right back.”

Jake lowered his head and kissed her.

“Romantic movie night—live,” Matt murmured and Paige pulled away, smiling.

“You promised me a night of happy-ever-afters. It exceeded expectations.”

“It’s not over yet.” Jake pulled her down on the cushions. “We still have one movie to watch, don’t we?”

“While You Were Sleeping.”
Paige curled up against him and the ring on her finger twinkled in the moonlight and the reflected light from Manhattan. “Think you’re man enough to handle it?”

“Of course.” Jake pulled her close and glanced at Matt. “Pass the tequila.”

* * * * *

Love has never been a priority for garden designer Frankie—after the fallout from her mother’s endless affairs, she steers well clear of any emotional entanglements. But her friend Matt isn’t so easily put off! He’s the only man she trusts, but can Matt persuade Frankie to trust him with her heart?

Read on for a sneak peek at the second book in Sarah Morgan’s brilliant new trilogy—brimming with the excitement and glamour of New York!

SUNSET IN CENTRAL PARK

Thank You

I
recently discovered that I have written seventy-five books for Harlequin. I lost count long ago, and I only found out the number when they gave me a lovely Tiffany key ring in recognition.

I’ve been so lucky in my career and you’d probably think my first and biggest thanks would go to my publisher—and they are AWESOME—but in fact it goes to my readers.

If readers didn’t buy the books, I wouldn’t be able to make writing my career. I could still write, of course, but then it would be my hobby, which wouldn’t be nearly as much fun—and I’d have to get a “proper job,” which definitely wouldn’t be as much fun! Many writers are introverts, but I’m an extrovert, and I love the interaction I have with readers. I have the best Facebook community on the planet and if I’m having a hard day I hang out there for a little while and your comments and encouragement always lift my spirits. So I want to say the biggest thank-you to anyone who has bought one of my books, recommended me to friends, chatted to me on social media—you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest and Goodreads—all links on my website. I love hearing about your life, exchanging thoughts on books and reading your emails. I’m touched that some of you feel able to share details of the challenging parts of your life and humbled to know that my books have helped in some small way. I know that when life has been difficult for me, the things that help me are family, friends, my writing and reading.

Thank you for making room for me on your bookshelf or your ereader.

USA TODAY
bestselling author Sarah Morgan brings you
From Manhattan with Love
, a sparkling new trilogy about three best friends embracing life—and love—in New York.

If you loved Paige’s story in
Sleepless in Manhattan
, then don’t miss the rest of the stories in this fabulous, fun and flirty series!

In the chaos of New York, true love can be hard to find, even when it’s been right under your nose all along. Don’t miss Frankie’s story in
Sunset in Central Park
.

It will take a Christmas miracle for two very different souls to find each other in this perfectly festive fairy tale of New York! Find out what’s in store for hopeless romantic Eva Jordan in
Miracle on 5
th
Avenue
.

And see where it all begins in this enchanting novella:
Midnight at Tiffany’s

Order your copies today!

“Morgan’s brilliant talent never ceases to amaze.”

RT Book Reviews

www.SarahMorgan.com

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Sunset in Central Park

by Sarah Morgan

“W
HEN
DID
YOU
last go on a date?”


Me?
Oh...” She hesitated, knowing that her answer wasn’t going to paint a picture of her as the epitome of urban sophistication. “Well—I don’t know—I’ve been busy—I don’t date that much.” What was the point in lying when he already knew she wasn’t a party animal? Her shoulders slumped. “When I date I almost always regret it, so I’m just as happy spending the evening thinking about plants.”

He removed his sunglasses slowly. “Why do you regret it?”

His eyes were the most incredible blue—warm, interested...and focused on
her
.

She felt as if her insides were slowly melting. “I’m not good at it.”

“It’s a date. The only requirement is to spend time with someone. How can you not be ‘good’ at it?”

The fact that he’d even asked her that question revealed the massive gulf in their life experience and expectations, as well as how little he knew about her dating history. And how little he seemed to understand her hang-ups despite the whole glasses incident. And why would he? Matt was confident and self-assured. Dating was unlikely to be something that made him consider therapy.

“It’s pressure,” she tried to explain. “Will you like them and will they like you? Do you have to be more this or less that? Dating a stranger is pretty fake, isn’t it? People project an image. You see what they want you to see and they often hide who they really are. It’s like going out with a mask on. I don’t have the energy for it.”

It was an understatement. She found it monumentally stressful—which was why she’d cut it out of her life.

“How about going out and being yourself? Does that ever happen?”

“That doesn’t usually work.”

“How can being yourself not work?”

She was acutely conscious of the people working around them and wondered how the conversation had blended so seamlessly from talk of buds and blooms to her own phobias. And it wasn’t just the conversation that unsettled her. It was the way he focused on her with that lazy, sexy gaze—as if she was the only person on the roof. In New York City.
In the world.

She’d always felt safe with Matt, but suddenly she didn’t feel safe. She was trying to stay safely in her comfort zone and he seemed determined to nudge her out of it. Which wasn’t like him.

She was filled with a whole bunch of feelings she didn’t recognize and had no idea what to do with. Her body hummed with awareness and breathless anticipation—although what she was anticipating, she had no idea.

“I don’t expect you to understand. When you’re with a woman it’s probably very simple.”

She was about to change the subject when he lifted his hand and pushed her hair back from her face. She felt the rough pads of his fingertips brush gently against her skin and started to tremble.

“When I’m with a woman,” he said softly, “I want her to be herself. If someone isn’t interested in who you really are, or in showing you who they really are, you’re probably wasting your time dating them.”

He let his hand drop but the trembling didn’t stop. It was as if he’d hit a trigger point—switched something on inside her. She saw his face through a blur of sunlight and the feverish patterns created by her own brain.

When I’m with a woman...

All she could think was,
Lucky woman
.
Lucky, lucky woman.

The atmosphere was electric, and she felt a strange rush of awareness brush across her skin. Her heart was pounding so hard she expected his entire crew to pick up the rhythm.

“Are you seeing someone at the moment?”

Why, oh, why had she asked him that question? She didn’t want to know. She truly didn’t want to know. She rubbed her hands over her arms, wondering how she could have goose bumps when it was so hot.

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

“There’s no one who interests you?”

“There is someone who interests me a great deal.”

“Oh.” Frankie felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Well, that’s...exciting.”

Not in a million years would she have expected his announcement to bother her as much as it did. Misery descended like a thick winter mist, smothering her good mood. Excitement was doused like a flame.

She wished she hadn’t asked, but at the same time she was glad she had—because at least it would stop her thinking dreamy thoughts and having anxious moments worrying that their relationship might be changing.

That comment about her having beautiful eyes had been just that—a comment.

For some men dating was virtually a hobby, but Matt was different. Matt, she knew, wasn’t the sort of man to sleep his way through the female population just because he could. Nor was he the sort of man who needed a woman on his arm to inflate his ego. If he was interested in someone then she must be special.

Her ribs ached with the acid burn of jealousy.

She saw a brief vision of the future...of evenings spent on the roof terrace with Matt and his girlfriend entwined together on one of the low cushions.

“I’m happy for you.” She said the words even though she didn’t mean them. “That’s great.”

What sort of woman had caught his attention? She’d be beautiful—obviously. Smart. That went without saying. And sexually confident. Someone who would definitely know how to flirt when the situation called for it.

Not the sort of woman who wore glasses when she didn’t need them.

“It’s not great. It’s complicated.”

Frankie had no idea what to say to that. She felt horribly inadequate. She was the
last
person to give anyone advice on relationships.

“Relationships are always complicated. That’s why I don’t bother. I have no idea what a normal, healthy relationship looks like. It’s nothing
I’ve
ever seen. And there I go again—being the rain cloud on someone’s patch of sunshine. Ignore me. If you want advice, talk to Eva. When it comes to love, she has all the answers. And she believes in it, which helps.”

“I don’t want to talk to Eva.”

Was he saying that he wanted to talk to
her
?

She was trapped between wanting to escape and wanting to be a good friend.

She had absolutely nothing of use to say on the subject of love, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t listen. This was
Matt
. Matt who had given her a lovely home for years.

“I can’t give advice, but I can listen if you want to talk.”

And if she turned green with envy at least she’d match the plants.

“You’d do that?” There was a hint of humor in his voice. “Even though dating is your least favorite subject?”

“I don’t want some woman messing you around. I like you.” She felt color flood her cheeks. She shouldn’t have said that. “We’re friends. Of
course
I like you. If you want to talk—talk. Tell me about this woman you’re interested in. She must be pretty special if you like her.”

“She is.”

His words added another bruise to the many that were accumulating.

“Why is it complicated? I assume she’s not married or still at school?” Seeing him raise an eyebrow, she blushed and shook her head in apology. “Sorry. This is why you shouldn’t be talking to me. When it comes to love, my every thought is warped. So what’s the problem? Just tell her straight out. Or are you afraid she isn’t interested?”

“She’s interested.”

“Well, of course she is!” Envy made her irritable. “She’d have to be crazy
not
to be interested. You’re the whole package, Matt—the three Ss, as Eva calls it.”

“The three Ss?”

“Single, sane and s—” She’d been about to say
sexy
, but she suddenly realized how easily that might be misinterpreted. If he knew she found him sexy she’d never be able to look him in the eye again, and that was already hard enough after the whole glasses incident. “Solvent,” she muttered. “You’re solvent.”

“Single, sane and
solvent
?” There was amusement in his tone. “That’s all it takes? That doesn’t sound like a very high bar.”

“In Manhattan, you’d be surprised,” Frankie said darkly. “All I’m saying is, if you’re interested in someone there shouldn’t be a problem. A million women would jump at the thought of having you in their lives.”

There was a pause as he scanned the skyline. “The problem is that I don’t want a million women—I want her,” he said. “And she’s scared of relationships. She’s not good at trusting, so I’m taking it slowly.”

Something in his tone made her glance at him sharply, but he’d slid the sunglasses back onto his nose and she could no longer see his eyes.

Frankie frowned, confused.

Surely he wasn’t saying...?

He didn’t mean...?

Crap.

A delicious, terrifying excitement ripped through her. She went from envy to euphoria. She was filled with an equal amount of joy and heat. Matt was interested in
her
.
Her.
She
was the woman. The thought made her dizzy with elation. Her palms felt sticky and her heart pounded like the drums in a rock band.

And then it dawned on her that if he knew she was interested, and he was also interested, the next logical step would be to take things to the next level. That would be what he was expecting. That was what normal people did, wasn’t it? That was the reason he was telling her how he felt. And if they took things to the next level...

Reality poked its way through the joy, puncturing her elation like a needle pressed against a child’s balloon.

Elation gave way to pure panic.

“On second thought, forget it. You want to stay away from—from relationships that are c-complicated.” She was stammering, tripping over her words.
Stay away from me.
“Too much trouble. Seriously, Matt, don’t go there.”

Admiring someone from a safe distance was one thing. When you thought that they weren’t interested and that it could never go anywhere it was a safe hobby. But this—this was different. It was like admiring a dangerous tiger in a zoo and suddenly realizing that someone had removed the glass between you. There was nothing stopping him coming close.

Up until this moment she’d had no inkling that he was interested in her, but now she knew that he was it changed everything.

It made the impossible possible, and she found the possible terrifying.

“I’ve never been afraid of complicated, Frankie. I’ve never been the kind of guy who thinks something worth having has to be easy to get.”

“Well, you
should
be afraid.”
Breathe, Frankie. In and out. In and out.
“Complicated is bad. If it’s complicated, maybe you should rethink. You deserve to find someone special. A nice, dependable, uncomplicated, sweet girl who isn’t going to mess you around.”

She articulated each word carefully, her tone transmitting the message:
And that’s not me.

“Frankie—”

“And talking of working on a plan—that’s what I’m doing now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She stepped back from him, tripped over a bag of cement, and virtually sprinted towards the stairs that led from the roof to the top floor of the house.

No
way
was she going to let this go any further. Not just because she believed that all relationships were doomed, but because it would be impossible to get closer to Matt without him discovering all the things about herself she made a point of keeping secret.

Because he knew about the glasses, he thought he knew
her
. What he
didn’t
know was that the glasses were just the tip of the iceberg...

Copyright © 2016 by Sarah Morgan

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