Connor (The Billionaires of Whispers #3)

35

CONNOR

W aking up alone, I go in search of the woman I can’t stop thinking about. I feel groggy. The few days I’ve had here at the office in New York have been some of my most productive. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, negotiated some new deals, and signed off on some new crops for our barley production. But that, coupled with late nights making love to Daisy numerous times, has me feeling exhausted. She’s been working hard too. She had a few meetings as well, has been reviewing staff protocols, making new tea elixirs with her mom, and deciding on a few new ones that I think she’ll want to bring to the spa. Her tea business is a big passion of hers, as is the yoga—more so than the spa side of things—but her business mind is really where she thrives, and I’ve been trying to think of things she can explore for her future. Ones that she can do from Whispers, because I really want her to stay with me. Not that she has to work. I would take care of her, but I know if I suggested such a thing, she would probably concoct a death elixir. One sip, and I’d be gone.

“Good morning,” she says as I spot her in my kitchen, showered and changed, a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of green juice in the other. I walk toward her, the stupid grin on my face at seeing her in my space not able to be wiped away, as she stretches out her hands to me.