The British Knight

When I’m offered the chance to leave New York to live in London for three months, I can’t pack my suitcase fast enough.

As soon as I touch down I’m obsessing over red telephone boxes, palaces and all the black cabs.

But my favorite place is the tube. It’s wall-to-wall hot British men in suits.

When I’m offered a temporary job working for a barrister, I say, sign me up.

On my first commute into work, it’s a total accident when I lose my balance and fall against the most handsome Brit alive. He’s as charming as James Bond and as suave as Mr. Darcy. I want to lick tea from his hard abs and listen to his accent all night long.

Turns out Mr. Handsome is my new boss. And his attitude isn’t as hot as his gorgeous face, broad shoulders and tight ass. He’s brooding, short-tempered and the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.

As we’re fighting, out of nowhere he kisses me. And I’m pretty sure I see fireworks over Big Ben and hear God Save the Queen.

I wasn’t looking for the fairytale but I might have found my knight in shining armor. The problem is he lives an ocean away.