Sure, she wasn’t a six foot hunk, but April was pretty pleased with her investigative skills. It was pretty easy, actually. A search of the London phone book had only returned one Matthew Logan, and she’d carefully copied down his address.Now, like Monsieur Bond, she would painstakingly track her quarry and use her seduction skills to charm him into not attending the wedding. How hard could it be?Start with sugar, and if necessary, she had arm flailing freaking out to fall back on. One of her approaches would definitely work. Because failure wasn’t an option.She looked crap in a tux, so instead, she’d strapped on high heels that made the best of her legs, and dressed in a leather mini and a black shirt—because it was winter, and black was her winter color. Now she stood at his front door.April plastered on a bright smile and pressed the bell. He wouldn’t remember her. It had been years…The door opened.Her mouth went slack.The Matthew in front of her was even more good-looking than he’d been back then.
