Mr. Trouble: A London Billionaire Standalone (London Billionaires Book 2)

by Nana Malone

  4

  Kinsley gathered her purse and walked to the lift, thinking that a greasy basket of fish and chips would be perfect for lunch today. She was tired. She’d tossed and turned last night, worrying about what the hell she was going to do. No matter how she calculated the money left in her checking and savings account, there was no way she could afford the flat or to even consider taking out a loan. The bank would laugh her straight out the door. She was going to have to give up the place.

  The lift arrived and Kinsley stepped in, pressing the button for the first floor. Moving was her only choice. What else could she do?

  “Wait. Hold the doors.”

  Kinsley looked up to see Jarred Maloney striding toward her, her finger holding the open button so he could enter as well. “Thanks,” he said as the lift doors closed. “How do you work for that bloody bastard anyway?”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, eyes wide. He looked over and she was momentarily stunned. She’d only met him a handful of times, but all of London knew who he was. He was flippin’ Jarred Maloney, sole heir to Maloney Motors and total playboy. He had the looks to back the claims up, with his dark hair and startling green eyes. The gossip mags called him knicker melting. They weren’t kidding. This kind of close proximity had her heart pounding ever so slightly. He had a killer body to go with the killer face. And she knew it because his abs were flashed more than once all over the rags. Gossip magazines were her only vice. She refused to feel guilty about devouring them. It was usually the closest she’d ever come to meeting someone like Jarred.

  But as mouthwatering as he was, he was miles away from Kinsley’s idea of the perfect bloke. She preferred, well, someone a bit more toned down. Pretty was nice, but pretty would eventually want to upgrade to a supermodel. Steady and dependable worked better.

  “That bastard, my father,” he grumbled, leaning against the wall of the lift as they descended. “He must pay well.”

  Kinsley smelled the faint whiff of whiskey and frowned, wondering who in the world drank before lunch. Why had he visited his father this morning? No doubt to ask for more money. Rumor was Jarred Maloney lived off of his father’s money and he wasn’t afraid to tell anyone that fact. Kinsley couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing. She worked hard to be where she was at, even if the world was now against her. Her eyes welled up and she turned away. Oh no, she wasn’t going to cry in front of this twat. No matter how hot he was in his current sullen mood. “I’m sorry Mr. Maloney, I don’t know what you mean.”

  He laughed then, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Well, well loyal and pretty. My father is quite lucky to have you on his team.”

  “I just do my job,” she swallowed, wondering what was taking the lift so long to get to the bottom floor.

  “What’s your name?”

  She looked over at him, seeing interest in his eyes with an adorable grin on his face. Oh shit. No wonder he was touted as a sex symbol in the media pages. That grin could melt panties the world round. Kinsley tried to ignore the fact that her stomach was doing funny flips and gave him her best frown in return. “It’s Kinsley Wells. We’ve met before. More than once.”

  “Kinsley,” he murmured, making her name sound sexy. “Do you like to have fun Kinsley?”

  Heat suffused her face. She wanted to ignore him, pretend that he wasn’t even standing next to her, the whiskey no longer as overpowering as the spicy scent of his aftershave. It smelled faintly of oranges. She loved oranges. “I-I have fun Mr. Maloney.”

  “Jarred,” he said, his grin widening. “You’re perfect, Kinsley.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant but thankfully didn’t have to find out, the lift doors opening and startling them both. Kinsley gave him a quick smile and hurried out, her pulse racing. For a brief moment, she had forgotten about her money troubles and basked in Jarred Maloney’s attention. Like an idiot. No doubt he would forget her name as soon as he walked out of the lift, but that was fine with her. He’d called her perfect. What had that meant?

  Her phone chimed and she fished it out of her purse as she walked outdoors, shivering as the wind cut through her thin coat. “Hello?”

  “Kinsley are you on lunch yet?”

  “I am,” Kinsley said, glad that Rachel had called her. “Care to grab a bite?”

  “I can’t,” Rachel sighed into the phone. “I have so much to do during my break unfortunately.” Rachel worked downtown at an arts gallery and absolutely loved her job. It was one of the reasons she had met Jamison. “I was just wondering if you decided on moving into that flat or not.”

  It was Kinsley’s turn to sigh. “I don’t have a choice. I just hope it doesn’t cost me my job.” She couldn’t afford to lose her only source of income.

  “You’ll be fine,” Rachel insisted. “I’ve got to go pick up the programs now. Let’s go out for drinks tomorrow night. I need to get out of this house before I go crazy.”

  She signed off before Kinsley had a chance to tell her about the weird lift conversation with Jarred Maloney. Rachel was hooked on the social media sites and more than once had mentioned the man’s name in passing. Jarred Maloney was definitely a hot commodity, so much so that he had his own webpage dedicated to his antics. Kinsley had to admit to herself that she had visited it a time or two, living it up through someone else’s photos and experiences. Between work and her degree, she had no room for clubbing and the like. Her idea of a fun time, as Jarred had asked her about, was having a brownie on a Friday night. Besides Rachel, she had no one else in her life socially. Damn, maybe it was time to get some friends.

  Kinsley dropped her phone back into her bag and walked the block over to the small pub that she frequented occasionally, knowing she should hold on to the money instead of buying lunch. She could hold her lunch money for the rest of her life and never gather up enough money to pay for her flat. She was doomed to start the search for a new place, no matter how much she didn’t want to do it.

  5

  The next night, Jarred and Turner sat at a pub not far from Turner’s flat, one known to have great karaoke and cold ale. It wasn’t Jarred’s usual haunt, but Turner liked the place and since he needed for Turner to stay on his side with this whole mess with his father, Jarred had relented. “I can’t believe he would do that to you,” Turner was saying as he polished off his beer, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Push you into a relationship? What sense does that make? He doesn’t remember how well that went with Susan?”

  “No sense at all,” Jarred admitted with a shrug. His father wanted complete and utter control of Jarred’s life and however that could happen, he was going to push until he broke his son down. “Worse yet, I told him I was already dating someone.”

  Turner laughed. “Did you happen to mention that to either one of the ladies in the bed the other morning? Perhaps they were unaware you were looking for a relationship.”

  “Sod off,” Jarred muttered, snatching up his pint. He shouldn’t have lied to his father, dug himself a bigger hole, but he wanted to wipe the smirk off of his face and that was the only possible way to do that. Now if he didn’t find someone to agree to pretend to be his girlfriend before the end of the week, he was going to have to find a job because he could kiss the money goodbye. It was a hard place he’d wedged himself in. “Help me think you tosser.”

  “You could call Susan, see if she would come back,” Turner offered.

  “No. And fuck no.” Jarred shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Besides, no can do. Heard she was shackled to Baron.”

  “Baron?” Turner asked, surprise on his face. “Baron Temsfield?”

  Jarred nodded, thinking about how he felt when he’d read the headline himself. Susan had wasted no time moving on. Baron was one of their chums from school, his father a business and trade mogul who was wealthier than either Turner’s or Jarred’s father. Baron had just gone through a nasty divorce with his first wife so it was quite the surprise that he would jump back into the fray so soon.
But whatever. Jarred didn’t care about what happened to her.

  “Wow,” Turner said, sitting back in his chair. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Jarred said nonchalantly. He didn’t want it to bother him, but it did, knowing that he’d been bowled over for someone wealthier. He had cared about her. It wasn’t any kind of deep-hearted, soul bending love by any means, but they had respected each other and the affection was there, or at least he’d thought it was. “She’s gone. I’ve got to find someone to impress my father so I can get my life back.”

  “What are you going to offer the woman?”

  Jarred turned to Turner. “What?”

  Turner signaled for another pint. “You know, to go with you on this.”

  “Besides my good looks?” Jarred joked.

  Turner rolled his eyes. “Yes, besides that.”

  Jarred shrugged. “I don’t know. Money probably shouldn’t be a thought considering I won’t have any if I can’t pull this off.”

  “Money makes the world go round,” Turner muttered as his pint appeared. The door opened and they both turned to see two women walk in, chatting with each other as they walked past. Jarred immediately picked out his father’s assistant as one of them. She was brunette and petite, with an oval face and wide expressive eyes that had looked at him with disdain just the day before in the lift. While she wasn’t the obvious type of beauty he usually went for, there was something about her that had him intrigued. It had to be the eyes. Or maybe the way her full lips moved when she spoke. Or her voice, quiet, but with a hit of steel. Maybe it was because she could put up with his father. The other woman was a striking redhead, her hands moving this way and that as they seated themselves at the bar not far from Jarred and Turner.

  “Hey, what about her?” Turner asked, gesturing toward the women.

  Jarred took one look at Kinsley and shook his head. “No.”

  “The redhead? Really? She looks like your type.”

  The redhead. Why hadn’t that been his first thought? She was his type, long legged and animated, no doubt having the ability to win over his father. “Um yeah, she will work.”

  Turner chuckled. “You sound like a pig being led to slaughter. Why don’t you just tell your father to sod off and go get a job like I did? I don’t have to depend on my father for anything and have told him that time and time again.”

  Jarred looked at his friend. “Well, you do have a degree behind your name and have turned into some poor bloke who will never pick up a woman with that shirt you have on.”

  Turner looked down at the checkered shirt and frowned. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

  Jarred chuckled and grabbed his pint, sliding off of the stool. “Wish me luck.”

  Turner just shook his head as Jarred walked over to the ladies, leaning against the bar beside the redhead. “A drink for these lovely ladies,” he said to the bartender. “On me.”

  The redhead swiveled around and her eyes went round with surprise. “Oh my god, you’re Jarred. Jarred Maloney.”

  “At your service,” he grinned. Kinsley peered at him over her friend’s head and frowned, but he ignored her. He was looking forward to this conversation. “And you are?”

  “Engaged,” Kinsley blurted out as the redhead started to speak. “She’s getting married in a few weeks.”

  “Kinsley,” the redhead replied, embarrassed as she turned to her friend. Kinsley shrugged and gave him a smirk, satisfied that she got her point across. Her friend turned back to him, a blush on her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I’m Rachel. It’s great to meet you.”

  “I’m hurt that I didn’t get to meet you sooner,” Jarred said, giving Rachel a wounded look. “You have taken my breath away.” He heard a snort coming from behind Rachel and couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to get on Kinsley’s bad side.

  “Wow, that’s so nice of you,” Rachel smiled, fluttering her lashes. “Wasn’t that nice Kinsley?”

  “Sounds like a line to me,” Kinsley replied, shooting daggers at him. The drinks arrived and Jarred grabbed his now full pint, holding it up to Rachel. “Well, let’s toast to a happy marriage for you then. He’s a lucky bloke.”

  Rachel held up her drink, giving Kinsley a look before she reluctantly did the same, clinking her glass against his. “Good evening ladies,” he said, pushing away from the bar and walking back toward Turner, who had an expectant look on his face.

  “Well?”

  “She’s getting married,” Jarred replied, his eyes on Kinsley.

  “Damn,” Turner said, echoing Jarred’s sentiments. “What about her friend? Did you ask her?”

  Jarred watched as Kinsley conversed with her friend, taking in her prim blouse and slacks that left everything to the imagination. She was snobbish, apparently detested him and was in cahoots with his father. Wait a minute. “She’s my father’s assistant,” he said slowly, a plan forming in his mind. That meant she had already impressed his father and would be the absolute last person he would expect Jarred to bring.

  “Oh wow,” Turner announced. “That’s it, mate. Bloody hell, she’s perfect. Your father already approves of her. Imagine the look on his face when you show up with her on your arm.”

  “Yeah,” Jarred murmured absently. Only problem with Little Miss Uptight, he had to get her to agree to this. And with the way she had dressed him down tonight, it was going to be one hell of a mountain to climb. He needed leverage and he needed it quickly. How he was going to do that, he didn’t know, but good thing he was resourceful.

  6

  Kinsley opened the door to the flat and groaned, dropping her suitcase just inside the foyer. She hated having to sneak into this flat, but she had no other choice. Besides, her housing could be a great deal worse. The flat was in an upscale neighborhood, where she was certain that the flats were far more expensive than the one she was trying to keep. It was posh and the décor reflected the contemporary style. It looked sterile and not at all comfortable, but Kinsley knew she couldn’t be picky. It was furnished and more importantly free, two reasons she had decided to go this route.

  Picking up her suitcase, Kinsley shut the door and walked into the kitchen, dropping the set of keys in the small dish that sat on the granite counter along with the small bag of food she had picked up on the way. Today she had made her decision. With the fumigation due for the morning, she had blocked off the schedule for the flat and grabbed some things to get her through the next few days before heading over here, hoping that this wasn’t going to get her in trouble.

  It was a good thing that she controlled the calendar so the flat was officially hers and she planned to not even leave a trace of her visit when she left. The sun had already set as she had her meager supper and cleaned up after herself, moving onto the bedroom which boasted a bed three times the size of her own.

  If her nerves weren’t so racked about being here, she might enjoy the plush carpeting under her feet or step out onto the balcony that gave an impressive view of the city. But instead she hurried through her toiletry and climbed in between the sheets, reveling in their luxuriousness. What would it be like to live like this constantly, to never worry about money? Jarred Maloney’s grin crossed her mind and she sighed, thinking of the way he’d hit on Rachel the night before.

  She hated to admit to herself, but she had been jealous. Jealous that he clearly hadn’t remembered her from the lift ride, jealous that she wasn’t the first one he approached. All of her life she knew that Rachel was prettier than she was, more outgoing, and definitely popular throughout school. Kinsley, while she loved her cousin dearly, couldn’t help but wish that Rachel would hurry and marry her love so she would be taken off the market. It was selfish yes, but last night had not been the first time that she had been overlooked for Rachel. It stung knowing she’d never be the first choice.

  With a groan, Kinsley punched at the pillow, staring into the darkness. Rachel being picked up by hot men was the least of h
er worries. She was about to lose her home and had no idea what she was going to do. The other flats in that area for rent were beyond her price range and the only place she could find that would give her a bit of money at the end of the month was a thirty-minute commute at least.

  She hadn’t ever owned a car so that was out of the question. She had one other option, one that she hated to even consider. She could move back home with her aunt and uncle. Their home was close to a tube and likely would be rent free. The thought, though, made her nauseous. Go back under someone else’s roof? When her parents had died, they’d taken her in. Done their duty. But they’d never been warm. No way was she going back. Especially not as a failure. she’d rather sleep on the street. She supposed she could get a flatmate, but one bad experience in Uni had soured her on the idea.

  A thud jolted her out of her thoughts, making the pictures on the wall rattle as it happened again. “What on earth?” she asked herself, grabbing her wrap and climbing out of the bed. It sounded as if someone was trying to burst through the wall. Hurrying down the hall, Kinsley made quick work of the locks against her better judgement and opened the door as the noise sounded again. “Oh no.”

  Jarred was sitting in the hallway, his back against the door next to Kinsley’s, a half empty bottle of liquor still clenched tightly in his grasp. The stench of whiskey permeated the air and Kinsley wrinkled her nose against the smell, wondering what on earth he was doing here.

  “Hey,” he said, looking up at her with bleary eyes. “I know you.”

  “Yes,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You do know me. I guess you live here?”

  He reached up with his free hand and scratched his head, looking puzzled for a moment. “I do, I think.”

  “Great,” Kinsley muttered. Why hadn’t she looked to see who was in the other flats before she had chosen this one? She knew Jarred was living in one temporarily, but never in her wildest thoughts would she have considered it was the one next to her. He was drunk and she should just close her door. He wasn’t her problem and old enough to know what he was getting himself into. Besides, it wasn’t like someone was going to come along and pick his pockets or anything. This was a secured building. She should just cover him up and go back to bed.