No Romeo (My Kind of Hero #1) Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors: Series: My Kind of Hero Series by Donna Alam
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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Nora shrugs, her sudden satisfaction settling around her like a cloak. “Well, I’ll tell you, but she don’t need you no more. She’s got a new fella in her life. His name’s Tucker,” she adds with unconstrained delight.

“Sounds like a tool,” Matt mutters.

“He’s a big fella, so she tells me. We’re all happy for her, right?” She doesn’t seem to have realized that most of her protesters seem to be walking off in the direction of the nearest tube station.

“I would like to speak with her myself. Loose ends, you understand. So many things I have to say.”

“Loose ends lead to nothing.” Yara gives her head a tiny shake and begins tugging on Nora’s arm.

“You want to grovel,” the old woman asserts.

“Yes.” My shoulders sag with a deep breath. “I suppose I do.”

“Go on, then.” Pulling away from Yara, she folds her arms across the front of her raincoat as her head makes a slight dip in the direction of the ground.

“Was that a . . . twitch?” I do hope so.

“A cue,” she says, ignoring Yara’s cackling laughter. “You wanna know? I wanna grovel out of you.”

My smile feels acid, and judging by the flickers of unease among the remaining stragglers, I think it might look acid too. Nora, meanwhile, remains unmoved. As cool as the proverbial cucumber, in fact.

“You misunderstand me, Nora. My groveling is for Eve.”

“Ah,” she says, in the vein of one who understands she holds all the cards. “So you don’t really want to know where she is, then?”

Chapter 47

OLIVER

“Where to, sir?” Ted slams the car door, reaching for his belt.

“Papua New Guinea. That’s in Melanesia, or so I’m told.” I suppose it might’ve been worse. She might’ve chosen somewhere slightly less accessible. Like the moon.

“Sorry, sir?”

“City Airport,” I amend, brushing aside Ted’s confusion and the dirt from my knees. Courtesy of Nora’s insistence that I grovel. As I dropped to that grimy pavement, I realized there was nothing I wouldn’t stoop to for a chance to see Eve again.

Hope, it seems, is a much stronger motivator than revenge.

“Isn’t Papua New Guinea rough? Dangerous, I mean.”

My gaze meets Ted’s in the rearview mirror as I make a vague noise from my throat. I’m trying not to dwell on the reality that Eve chose to move to a country where violent crime, kidnapping, and civil unrest are commonplace.

Am I really so awful?

Well, yes. I suppose I was. But that was before. Put simply, revenge blinded me, and there are none so blind as those who will not see. I only hope she’ll forgive me, let me spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

As for the place being dangerous, Eve is no fool. She wouldn’t have moved to the country recklessly. But in a fit of despair? No, nothing about this situation is the same as before. With the information she had, she put me in my place, there on the stage, and then moved to the end of the earth to avoid me.

“Sir?”

“Eve volunteered for an animal charity in the country.” She’s currently working out of a remote copper-mining town some hours flight from the capital. “I’m sure they’re taking good care of her.” It’s the only answer I’m prepared to give as I swallow over the sudden ache in my throat. How could I have ever believed I could atone for Lucy by hurting Eve? Enough. I’ve wasted so much time on regret. My actions will be different this time around. I won’t let Eve go, not without my love ringing in her ears. My love. My regret. How being with her, seeing life through her eyes, has made me a better man.

I can do this. I can convince her we’re worth the risk, and I have twenty-two hours, according to Andrew’s itinerary, to come up with the right words. I also have Nora’s and Yara’s blessings, of sorts. And my friends’ best wishes for luck. Did they wish me luck, or did they say I’ll need it?

Not that it matters. I won’t waste this chance, Tucker or not.

A low grunt rumbles up from my chest. The man’s name is like my own personal rain cloud, pissing on my hope. I don’t believe Eve is dating already, though I’m sure it won’t be for want of trying on his part.

Tucker the fucker.

Actually, no. Tucker better not be a fucker, or I’ll twist his testicles off.

I wonder if I can hire a llama in Papua New Guinea.

But as my phone rings, my plans drift away like a daydream.

“Peanuts?” The flight attendant smiles as she offers me the ridiculously tiny packet.

I shake my head. What kind of an idiot doesn’t have a spare private jet? And what kind of fuckery is at play when an airport the size of Heathrow has not one first-class ticket available to Australia? Hell, business class! Instead, I find myself flying economy on some el cheapo airline. In coach, for fuck’s sake!


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