“‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she exploded, frantically clutching the armful of documents threatening to spill from her arms. Taking off his helmet, the man shook out a mop of inky-black hair. He was exactly the type of man you didn’t want to see when you’d had the day from hell and looked like you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards: gorgeous, cool, and commanding. He had ‘danger’ flashing round him like neon lights. ‘Well?’ Magenta demanded furiously. ‘Do you always ride a m...otorcycle like a maniac?’ ‘Always,’ he drawled. ‘I should report you.’ Eyes the colour of a storm-tossed ocean laughed back at her. And she would report him, Magenta determined, just as soon as she sorted out the flat on her car, along with a million and one other things. Such as her father deciding to retire and sell his shares to some stranger without a word to her. Such as saving her colleagues’ jobs from this unknown predator. Such as wanting to get back to her team and their fast-moving, retro ad campaign set in Magenta’s favourite era, the sixties.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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