London (International Guy Book 7)

by Audrey Carlan

Sky maneuvers her hand between our bodies and cups my growing length. “If the entire world were fucking all the time, they wouldn’t have the time to fight wars. Imagine a world with no wars.”

  I grin while cupping her cheek and smoothing the pad of my thumb over her plump lip. “Make love, not war, eh?”

  She leans forward and presses her lips to mine while cupping me fully. “Yep.”

  “You wanna get out of here?”

  Her hand strokes the length of my dick through my tight slacks. “Yep.”

  “How about dinner tonight, with my folks?”

  Skyler stops her movements and leans back; a happy light takes over her lusty gaze. “They want to see me again?”

  I frown. “Peaches, I never told them we were on the outs. Nothing has changed with my family.”

  She bounces in my lap, cups my cheeks, and lays a hard kiss on my lips. We’re going at it pretty heavy when the door to my office opens twenty minutes later.

  Annie is holding two paper cups of coffee and sporting a fish-out-of-water expression. “I’m . . . so sorry. I, um, yeah . . . I couldn’t knock because of the cups . . . ,” she rushes to say.

  I pull my hand off Skyler’s ass, and she swings her leg and body around, planting herself cross-legged on the seat next to me. She wipes at her lips where I smudged her lip gloss.

  “Sorry. We’re making up for lost time.” She blushes beautifully.

  Annie plants the cups of coffee on the table in front of us. “One caramel latte, and one large coffee with cream. Again, Mr. Ellis, I’ll be sure to knock next time.” Her cheeks pinken with what I assume is embarrassment, when in reality, we should be the ones embarrassed, so starved for one another that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves even in the workplace.

  “No worries. There will be a lot of interesting things you see and hear while working for IG. We’re a strange bunch.”

  Annie jerks her head. “Yeah, that’s what Wendy’s been telling me. I have a lot to learn.”

  “Wendy?” I frown and count down the days in my head. She’s only a week out of surgery and three days out of the hospital.

  Annie licks her lips nervously. “She’s training me from home. Sending me how-tos and notes on certain things to make it easier to be helpful right away. I’m picking it up really fast, so you don’t have to worry.”

  I glance at Sky, and she purses her lips and shakes her head. “There’s not a lot you can do about Wendy, Parker. That woman marches to the beat of her own drum.”

  I huff and pick up my phone. “Yeah, until Michael nails her ass and mine. The last thing I want to do is piss off her man when he’s already rooting for her to quit altogether.” The cell in my hand rings a few times before she picks up.

  “Hiya, boss man.”

  God, it’s good to hear her voice, but I don’t mention that, going right into chastising her. “Wendy,” I state on a growl. “You are not supposed to be working. At all.”

  She sighs. “It’s my job, and someone has to help the new girl along until I can come back. Which I’m hoping is more like three weeks, a month tops.”

  I tip my head back and press my fingers into my temples. “Does Michael know you’re working?”

  She lowers her voice. “Um . . . yeah. Sure.”

  “So, if I text him that you’re training the new assistant, he’ll be fine with that information?”

  “You. Wouldn’t. Dare!” she states with a whispered menace that makes me want to laugh. I hold it back, but just barely.

  “I would. I’m serious. Stop working and get better. We need you. No one could ever take your place.” I turn around and realize that Annie is still standing there, a dejected expression crossing her face. I close my eyes and turn around. “Fuck.”

  “My temp was standing right there, wasn’t she?” Wendy says.

  “Yeah.” I clench my teeth.

  Wendy starts to laugh in my ear and then cries out. “Do not make me laugh. It hurts when I laugh.”

  “Then don’t laugh at me. Damn, you know you’re a pain in my ass.”

  Wendy fires back, “That’s what she said!” followed by another bout of hysterical laughter. And once again she groans. “Look, dude, I need to go. Have fun in London. I’ll be keeping tabs,” she says, then hangs up.

  Fuckin’ Wendy. Always has the upper hand. Damn minx.

  I turn back around and find Sky giggling behind her hand and Annie gone. Thank God.

  “Wendy so has your number, pretty boy.” She grins, and I grab my coffee as I ease down next to my girl and wrap my other arm around her shoulders. Sky cuddles against my side with her own coffee close to her lips.

  “You ready to go to London?”

  “Totally.”

  “Well, let’s go get ready. I don’t have a personal shopper, so I need to go home and pack so we can visit the folks at Lucky’s for dinner. I also need to have a conversation with Nate and Rachel. What do you have them working on in Boston anyway?”

  She bites her lip and smirks. “Can’t tell. It’s a surprise. You’ll find out soon enough. I’ll call them on the way to your house and get them to meet us. Tell them we’re off to London tomorrow. They always bring enough clothes with them for seven to ten days, so I’m sure they’ll be fine to jet to London in the morning.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I stand up and hold out my good arm with the busted hand. She takes hold, and together we leave the IG office.

  I just got back, and I’m already gone again. I’m starting to wonder if I really even need an office with how much I’m traveling nowadays. Tomorrow London. The client after that could have me in Asia. With my arm around my girl and my love life back on track, I guess it doesn’t matter where I’ll be, as long as I’ve got this woman’s heart.

  Skyler’s heart, that’s my home.

  We arrived in London at ten o’clock the next evening local time, crashed at the hotel at midnight, and now, exactly twenty-four hours after having gotten on an airplane, we’re headed in a black Audi to the home of author Geneva James.

  Skyler, practically jumping in her seat, can hardly keep still. I put my hand on her bouncing, denim-clad knee. “Peaches, relax. You’re spazzing out.”

  She puts her hand over mine. “I’m just so nervous. What if she doesn’t like me? You know, the real me, not the me she sees on the movie screen.”

  This is a common fear my girl has, one of the reasons we met and I had her do the Bared to You campaign in the first place.

  I hold up her hand and bring it to my lips to kiss her fingertips. She settles the second my lips touch her skin. I hope she always responds that way to me.

  “Sky, everything you are, and everything that she will see, is beautiful, because you’re beautiful, baby. Inside and out. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, Amy said she’s a fan of yours.”

  She sighs heavily and leans her head back against the leather seat. “Yeah, but people always imagine how you’ll be, and if you don’t fit into that perfect box, they could find you lacking.” A frown flits across her glossy pink lips. She’s dressed in dark-wash jeans, canary-yellow stilettos, and a green-and-yellow flowered silk blouse, complete with a white blazer. The sleeves are pushed up to her elbows, and an array of gold bracelets tinkle with each of her movements. Half of her blonde waves are pulled up and away from her face, giving me unhindered view of her pretty brown eyes and high cheekbones.

  I turn in my seat and cup her cheek, making her look directly at me. “There is nothing lacking about you. Beauty . . . check. Stylish dresser . . .” I run my gaze down her trendy but chic outfit. “Check. Compassionate heart . . . check. Sweet smile . . .”—she grins, making it easy to admire her lips—“check. Gorgeous face . . . check. Bangin’ body . . . ch—”

  She covers my mouth with her lips and kisses me so hard I feel it all the way down to my toes. She holds my chin and runs her thumb across my lip the way I usually do to her. “I got your point.”

  I grin wickedly. “Good. Now relax and rea
lize she’s probably more scared to meet you than you are of her.”

  She shakes her head. “I doubt that.”

  “It’s not like you’re meeting the pope, or . . .” I wave my hand in the air until I come up with another celeb. “Oprah.”

  Skyler giggles. “True. Though I like how you relate a talk show host and actress to the leader of an entire religion.”

  I shrug. “Kinda the same thing.” I wink, and she laughs.

  “God, I love you.” She half gasps and grabs my hand.

  I hold it tight. “Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

  She eases her head onto my shoulder, her body finally relaxing against the seat in a more reclined position. “Like I’d want to anyway. Pshhht.” The last part comes out in a burst of air, but the words themselves ping around my mind as though they are a solemn promise, not just a throwaway response to something I’ve said.

  Fifteen minutes later, Nate stops at a beautiful black iron gate in a posh, quiet neighborhood in the west side of London called Notting Hill. The borough became even more popular after the movie Notting Hill starring Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts became a hit. I can see why. The buildings in this neighborhood are well maintained, the streets clean and filled with trees and quaint businesses. This particular house is a semidetached five story that reminds me of a colonial. If I had to guess, I’d say the house was probably around six thousand square feet, which seems really large for one person. According to Skyler, the Geneva James stalker, there is no record of Geneva James having a family or a significant other, but I imagine over the next two weeks we’ll find out why.

  Nate communicates with someone on the black speaker box, and the gate magically opens. We’re brought down a small path and up to a circular drive that goes directly to the second level of the home. Rachel and Nate get out of the car first and open our doors. As we get out of the car, we can see a pathway to the right that leads to what looks like a private garden. Birds chirp and sing as the wind sways the leaves on the surrounding trees. The air is crisp, and the sun is shining its warm rays.

  “It’s surprising that it’s so sunny. London isn’t known for its bright days.” Sky holds her hand over her eyes to block the light as she stares at the large London home.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about getting a home in London. My accountant would die a happy man if I bought ten houses.” She grins.

  I loop an arm around her shoulders as Nate and Rachel follow us up to the door, their gazes checking the environment.

  “Why haven’t you?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Never had anyone to take vacations with away from New York City before.”

  I lean over and kiss her temple. “And now?” I whisper into her hairline.

  She hugs me to her side and lifts her chin. “Now I have you, and Tracey, and your brothers, and Wendy. Maybe I can buy a vacation place, and everyone can use it? Seems silly to buy something so huge and have it just sit there all the time.”

  I nod. “Makes sense. Whatever you want to do, Peaches.”

  Sky spins in a circle, wraps her arms around my neck, and looks right into my eyes. “And what if I want to get married and have a horde of your babies?”

  I swallow slowly and try not to let the instant panic of so much responsibility hitting me all at once push me into blacking out where I stand. “I’d say, one thing at a time.”

  She grins. “Not out of the realm of possibility in the future, though?”

  In the future.

  Whew.

  Not only is it good that she sees me in her future but sees us married and having children. The first part is amazing, the second nerve-racking. “No. Not out of the realm, though I’d have to spend a year or two wrapping my head around the idea of children.”

  Sky bounces up onto her toes and kisses me. “Yay! We’re on the same page.”

  “For once, Sky, I think we are.”

  She laughs as I push her in the direction of the stairs. When we get to the bright royal-blue double doors, I press the doorbell. Rachel and Nate flank our sides as though a predator could pop out of thin air. Always ready, those two, which makes me happy as a lark that they are glued to Skyler’s side, especially when I’m not around.

  While we wait for the door to be answered, I’m expecting a house attendant or an assistant and am surprised when the door opens and it’s the author herself.

  The brunette’s blue eyes are kind when she sees me, but her mouth falls open as her gaze zeros in on my girl. “Skyler . . . oh my God. You’re Skyler Paige. At my door. At my house.” Her British accent makes each word sound lovely when she’s mostly just blathering on. Geneva blinks a few times and then looks at me and back to Skyler. “My agent told me a man from International Guy would be coming to help me through my writer’s block and he’d be bringing a surprise. We made a bet. A bet. Oh my God! You’re Skyler Paige? You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

  Skyler chuckles. “You’re fangirling over me! I’ve been fangirling over you since we met with Amy the other day in Boston. I’ve read all your books.”

  “You’ve read my books. Skyler . . . Skyler Paige has read my books. Oh my . . . I think I need to sit down.” She sways where she stands, and I step forward to brace her shoulder as best I can without seeming like a handsy stranger. She just looks at my hand, then at me, and back to Skyler like none of this could possibly be real, or she’s about to pass out.

  “Hi, I’m Parker Ellis with International Guy. I’ve been hired by your agent, Amy Tannenbaum, to assist you with your problem. Skyler’s here to help as well.”

  She shakes her head and places her hand against her chest as if her heart is pounding a mile a minute and she needs to stop it.

  “May we come in?” I ask.

  She sucks in a huge breath. “Oh, bloody hell, of course. Yes. Please, do come in.” She opens the door wide, and we follow her into a large living area outfitted with furniture and decorations in a soft color palette. Pastel blue, cream, green, and gold offer a serene and tranquil space.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” The tall brunette walks over to a tray filled with glass decanters and pours herself one. “Sherry?” She gulps back the entire thing and winces before pouring herself another.

  I chuckle and move to the couch. “May I?” I ask with a gesture to the furniture.

  “Please do. Have a seat. Um, I have tea or wine.”

  “I’d love a glass of wine. Let’s get this party started.” Skyler rubs her hands together and sits on the couch next to me.

  “Party? Are we going to a party?” The brunette’s brows furrow together.

  “No, silly, we’re the party. According to your agent, we’re here to loosen you up and bring back your words. When my agent hired Parker, the first thing we did was get drunk together. I think it was an excellent start to our time together, don’t you agree, honey?” she gushes, laying it all out on the table like she always does.

  Geneva sips her drink and points to Sky, then to me. “You’re a couple, right? I mean, I’ve seen some of the tabloids. You mean to tell me that you were his client?” She directs the question to Sky.

  “Yep, and fell in love in the process.”

  “Wow. That sounds like a good story.” Geneva opens a bottle of wine, pours two glasses of red, and hands one to Sky and then me. “Would you mind sharing your story?”

  Skyler looks at me, and I wave my hand. “Go ahead. You’re dying to share it, I can tell.”

  Sky smacks me on the leg playfully. “Shut up,” she scolds, and then turns back to Geneva. “You’re never going to believe this. When we met, my agent had hired him. He came to my penthouse in New York City. I had no idea he was coming right then. My agent had just left, and . . .” She takes a big drink of her wine, so I do the same. The cherry and plum notes slide easily down my throat and warm my belly in the process.

  “And then I hear a knock on the door not even five minutes late
r. Well, I had just gotten out of bed and assumed it was my agent possibly having forgotten to tell me something.”

  Geneva curls up on her couch, getting comfortable. “Then what happened?”

  “I opened the door, and there stood the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my entire life.” She hooks a thumb to me, and I can’t help but sit up a littler straighter and smirk.

  Geneva looks me up and down in an assessing manner as though she’s cataloging my features, not taking them in personally. “I can see that. He’d make a perfect Dean, well, if his hair were darker.”

  Skyler focuses on my hair for a moment, pausing her story. “Totally,” she says breathily. “Anyway, I open the door, and this hot guy is standing there. Only I’m wearing a tank, no bra, and a thong.”

  Geneva’s lips twist until she’s giggling behind her hand. “I would have had a heart attack!”

  “I nearly did,” Sky says.

  I sip at my wine coolly while the women get to know one another.

  “Right! It was so embarrassing! Then again, I can’t say my assets didn’t help me bag the hottie!” Sky’s voice lowers to a sultry timbre that has my dick paying attention. Damn thing pops up every five seconds around the woman lately.

  The two of them fall into a fit of giggles and somehow become fast friends in the way that only women are capable of. Me, I just sit back and enjoy the show. Seeing them become close over their shared love of books and romantic movies gives me a great idea for how to start bringing Geneva out of her funk.

  5

  Day 1 of bringing Geneva James out of her writer’s block.

  I scribble the note onto a pad of paper.

  Sky looks over my shoulder and snickers.

  I nudge her shoulder as we move through Geneva’s home the next day. “What?”

  “You’re logging this like you would in a journal? Do you always do that?” Her eyebrows rise up toward her hairline. “Did you do that on me?” She grabs the front lapels of my sport coat and contorts her voice into that of a military sergeant. “Show me my journal entries!” She laughs herself silly, then continues up the stairs into Geneva’s sunroom-office. She has two offices. One that she uses when it’s sunny out and she can take advantage of the light, another she calls “the cave” because it’s surrounded by books and heavy draperies over the windows.