She ruined his suit. He ruined her plans.
She soaked his suit. He stole her scarf. It was hate at first splash.
Stella Quinn didn’t move to London to fall in love. She moved to London to build an event planning empire, prove her mother wrong, and survive on coffee and sheer audacity. She did NOT move to London to destroy the bespoke suit of the most infuriatingly handsome solicitor in the city by hitting a puddle at full speed.
Reid Hargrove is precise. Controlled. British in a way that involves cufflinks and a moral objection to lateness. He is also Stella’s new liaison at the law firm overseeing her biggest client—which means she has to see him every week. In meetings. Where he sits across from her with his jaw and his forearms and his ability to say “that won’t be possible” in a voice that makes her forget what budget means.
They agree to keep things professional. They agree this is a business arrangement. They agree that the tension between them is purely logistical.
They are both spectacular liars.
When a high-stakes New Year’s Eve gala, one opinionated cat, a chimney that hasn’t worked since 2019, and a pillow wall built from seven decorative cushions conspire to throw them together, Stella has to decide: keep pretending this is professional, or admit that the man she’s been fighting is the same one she can’t stop reaching for.
But Stella’s visa has an expiration date. And the man she can’t stop reaching for is one more reason leaving would wreck her.
To Fall in London is a spicy, laugh-out-loud enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy about a chaos-fueled American and a buttoned-up Brit who were never supposed to happen—and can’t seem to stop.
Book 2 in the Love in Translation series. Can be read as a standalone. Full HEA guaranteed.
Content note: This is a high-heat, open-door romance with explicit intimate scenes.
