Free The Duke Takes a Bride (Entitled Book 2) by Suzette de Borja

was staring into space, so he couldn’t be sure which of them he was addressing, the fish or Julian.
    Julian decided he could speak for them both. “None taken,” he assured the young doctor.
    “I’m more of a shubunkin type of man, myself,” Lukas muttered. “You have to see their metallic and transparent scales. Just beautiful.” His eyes glazed in rhapsody. “Had one myself when I was a kid until my sister’s cat ate it.” He blinked and was back to the real world. “Well, I’m off.” Lukas stood up, stretching his lean and gangly frame. “I’ll come around again and visit the patient. Just call me if you have any concerns.” He paused, as if debating his words. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother, but I’m happy to hear he’s recovering well.”
    “The bastard is lucky he’s still alive,” Julian bit out tightly, then remembered himself. “Thanks for dropping by, mate. Appreciate it.”
    “By the way,” Lukas said as Julian showed him to the door, “you have to get that goldfish a bigger tank. He won’t last long in that bowl.”
    Julian nodded.
    “Don’t forget the board meeting on Monday,” Lukas called over his shoulder, giving him a cocky salute before disappearing down the corridor, whistling.
    All the partners of Creatus Ventures from the U.S., the U.K., and Hong Kong were going to be present. Thus his current visit to California.
    After making sure that Gray was on the mend, Julian left London amidst his stepmother Olga’s accusations that he was an unfeeling son of a bitch like his deceased father, leaving his wounded baby brother behind. He didn’t bother to point out that Olga herself was in San Francisco while Gray was in the hospital.
    Julian decided to take a shower, running the things he needed to do on his visit to California through his mind. He was in the middle of investigating a start-up company in Menlo Park that had developed software to help children with learning differences, and it appeared promising. He had set the meeting for tomorrow and was set to fly out, but it seemed he might have to reschedule, unless he could get Mrs. Nero, his transient housekeeper, to do some babysitting and nursing duties for him tomorrow. It was hell of an inconvenience, but Julian wasn’t the type to complain. If his money, status, or connections could not resolve an issue immediately, then it was no use bemoaning the fact. Sooner or later, the aforementioned addressed them anyway.
    By the time he had finished with his shower, evening had descended on Los Angeles. He fixed himself a drink from his mini-bar, remembered the deadly effects of the combination of alcohol and jetlag, and chucked it. He decided to check on the third ingredient – Imogen.
    Uncomfortable was an understatement about how Julian felt having her in his penthouse again. He had dreaded, and conflictingly anticipated, running into her again after that night two years ago. She had repeatedly turned down Maggie’s invitations to go out with them whenever he was in L.A. Maggie said it was because Imogen was busy. Julian didn’t press further, not wanting to arouse his sister’s suspicion about his interest in her friend. Maggie eventually left on another dig, this time lasting months, and Julian never had the chance to see Imogen again.
    Which was as it should be.
    He had no right wondering if their chemistry that night had been just a fluke. If it was all due to jetlag or alcohol…or it was really something else. Something he shied away from examining. It would’ve been pointless, after all. He had been engaged to another woman. And so he had locked away the memory of that night in a compartment. Convinced himself he had given it so much weight because of how ugly it turned out in the end. How unresolved.
    But sometimes, a laugh, the color of a stranger’s hair, or the freckles in an unknown woman’s shoulder would remind him of Imogen. And of how good it felt to be with her, how good it was to be inside