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    Indulge (A From London with Love Novella)
    Indulge (A From London with Love Novella)
    Indulge (A From London with Love Novella)
    Ebook52 pages37 minutes

    Indulge (A From London with Love Novella)

    By Olivia Aycock

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    About this ebook

    SoCal native Ashley Powell would be thriving as an expat in London were it not for the bitter cold—and a brutal infatuation with her co-worker, the super uptight Oliver Wooldridge-Langston. His manners are so perfect, and he's so out of her league, he might as well be Prince Harry! But when he invites her to celebrate a Friendsgiving holiday weekend at his oldest chum's country manor, she discovers a scene ripe for seduction. The only question: just who will be seducing whom? 

    Warning: an appetite for turkey, stuffing, and green bean casserole won't be the only thing indulged this holiday season. This steamy romance includes two colleagues who, after weeks of frustrated longing, count their blessings. . . and their shared fantasies. (about 12,000 words) 

    This story stands alone without a cliffhanger. But you can look forward to revisiting Ash and Oliver's passionate love affair—and meeting Ashley's younger sister Emily—in Dazzle.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOlivia Aycock
    Release dateDec 14, 2015
    ISBN9781519959164
    Indulge (A From London with Love Novella)
    Author

    Olivia Aycock

    Olivia Aycock writes romance with an erotic edge. Her characters might be urban sophisticates or have sweet southern style. But no matter the setting, you can always expect a satisfying ending.

    Read more from Olivia Aycock

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      Book preview

      Indulge (A From London with Love Novella) - Olivia Aycock

      One

      It was another gray day.

      Or was that spelled g-r-e-y?

      She second-guessed everything these days. Everything in London seemed upside down from her life in sunny SoCal.

      It’s an adventure, she told herself, face buried deep in her maroon scarf.

      It was an unfashionable, chunky thing. Nothing like what the girls were pairing with those sleek moto jackets—or those effortlessly chic women and their sumptuous camel coats and cashmere scarves.

      It was effing freezing.

      Ashley was about five minutes away from seeing if LL Bean or Lands’ End would ship their giant puffy coats overseas. Something that covered her in layers of insulating fluff from earlobe to mid-thigh. Ooh, or the ones popular with hockey moms in the Midwest—the ones that went all the way down to the calf or ankle!

      Maybe her sister could shove one in her suitcase when she came to visit at Christmas.

      No. Too far away. She was freezing now.

      Stupid District Line outage. Stupid last minute scramble to figure out how to take the train into Waterloo. Stupid walk across London Bridge, dodging disappointed tourists hoping to walk across the monumental wedding cake Tower Bridge and instead finding this boring gray concrete thing.

      Oh, hey, look! She was cursing tourists like a real Londoner.

      And that was the true story of an expat working in London. Not quite the glamorous picture she’d imagined when she’d been wooed away from the partner track at her flashy firm in L.A. and offered the lateral transfer to an international firm looking for an American to round out their M&A team. Just a blustery, stinking wind coming off the Thames and ineffectual outerwear.

      It would get better. She’d only just arrived; settled in. Learned to look forward to the forty-minute commute she took twice a day. Especially if she timed it right and could squeeze into a seat and not have to be jostled, standing the whole way. Eighty or so minutes of forced leisure reading or forced zoning out time was actually pretty great.

      But she missed driving.

      And the sun.

      Bare legs and sunroofs and working by the pool on the weekends.

      She heaved a heavy sigh. It was worth it. Living in London was a dream.

      Her L.A. firm might have been flashy and fun, but Jesus, this place was something else. Her first day, she’d practically bowed to the doorman like he was Prince Charles or something. And she had to pinch herself at every staff meeting to keep from just closing her eyes and listening to the dreamy, posh voices that surrounded her. It was nothing like home.

      And that was a good thing.

      Ashley had been in a rut in California: the same friends since forever and a rotating cast of boring dates. If she managed to surface from work long enough. London was an outrageous city, and her new job was both challenging and enjoyable—and maybe a Prince Harry lookalike would sweep her off her feet.

      If only she could get warm.

      Too bad she couldn’t keep her cozy boots on during the day. Their discreet fur lining was heaven, but heels ruled the day here in the silver circle. At least she could pair them with thick, opaque tights. Plus, the contraband space heater under her desk helped.

      God help her if she were discovered plugging in non-approved electronics. But the moment she crawled under her desk, plugged it in, and it came to life with a satisfying snick, she was warm and happy for the first time in hours.

      She stayed under the desk for a glorious moment, warming her hands. Her face. There was a strong

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