Picky Viscount: A Modern Aristocracy Billionaire Romance (Endowed Book 3)

by Sara Forbes

  “Peter, no!”

  “You wouldn’t have the guts,” I say. “You’ll break your knuckles if you try.”

  “You want to fight? Come behind here if you dare.” He beckons at a side door in the windowless wall.

  I’m not letting him out of my sight when he’s got Liv. I follow them through the steel door into a tiny concrete courtyard where they store kegs for the pub next door. It’s illuminated by the lone street light overhead.

  “I brought some other friends too,” Peter says, slotting a bolt over the door.

  What?

  Out of the darkness comes a group of four thuggish guys.

  Oh shit.

  In a flash, it falls into place. It’s a set up. It’s a coward’s revenge. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why Liv has to be here to witness it.

  “Let her go,” I growl. “Why is she here?

  Peter shakes his head. “Because, Ken, darling, she’ll never learn what you’re truly like unless she sees the ugly side for herself.” He turns to Liv. “My dearest, he beat up our friend, Edward Greer, did you know that?”

  I stare at Liv. “You know Edward Greer?”

  She flinches.

  “Of course she does,” Peter says, as if disappointed at my slowness. “We’ve all been to Corsica together, haven’t we, Liv?”

  Liv hangs her head. I can’t believe she’s covered up for Greer. He knows Peter. Which explains how Greer knew about the key to the stables and could organize the poisoning. God.

  I groan aloud at the treachery and then yell as my arms are pulled almost out of their sockets by more than one person behind me.

  “Did you poison Sill?” I ask Peter while I still can.

  I see his sneer before a fist comes crashing against my cheek. Darkness spreads over my vision. The pain comes a few seconds later. I’m conscious.

  I swing around, judo style, but against at least four thickset men, I’ve no hope. They soon have me pinned against the wall. One of them rams a fist into my stomach, winding me. I’m glad of the extra layers of muscle I’ve built up in my rage-out sessions in the gym, but it’s still agony.

  Liv is watching silently, not screaming. I focus on the shape of her perfect face, luminous in the streetlight. If this is my death then at least I’ll die looking at something heavenly.

  But then she does a surprising thing. She wriggles her body and starts a weird moaning. “Oh my, it’s making me so hot seeing him like this. It’s turning me on.”

  Okay, now I’m hallucinating.

  But Peter’s sniveling voice asks, “What did you say?” and I know I’m not.

  He grips her arm and his gaze darts between her and me. I struggle to get free but I’m pushed harder against the wall.

  “Look at him, so gorgeous,” she croons. “Oh, I need to take this off.”

  She raises her arms, submissive-style, and all sexy, shimmies off her jacket, revealing a camisole thing underneath through which her lacy bra is visible.

  She runs her hands along her breasts. “Mmm,” she says as if lost in passion.

  What the fuck, Liv?

  I’m so stunned, and furious, and amazed, I can’t think. The eight arms holding me slacken, like an octopus shot by a tranquilizer gun.

  And then I get it.

  I wrench myself free from my captors, charge at Peter with my elbows up and shove him to the ground, grab Liv’s hand, throw myself at the steel door and unbolt it somehow, and run like a bat out of hell out of the enclosed area, dragging Liv with me onto the street.

  “Get them,” I hear Peter’s hoarse cry from behind the brick wall.

  I run along the pavement, dragging Liv along in her semi-undressed state. Passersby turn to stare at us. I keep running. Liv is fast, almost as fast as I am. I’m thankful for that.

  With my lungs bursting, when I feel like I’ve got enough of a lead, I plunge into the traffic for a taxi. It’s moving so slowly I’m ready to jump in front of the next one and make it stop, so help me God. Liv is whimpering as she fights to catch her breath and cover her exposed chest up with her free hand.

  An executive-level BMW swerves up, almost running over my shoes. The driver sticks his head out of the open window. “Get in,” he says.

  Fuck me, it’s Martin Spelling.

  I have never been happier to see a familiar face. I open the back door and all but push Liv onto the leather seats. I tumble in after and yank the door shut just as one of Peter’s goons catches up with me and slaps his paw against the window.

  I pant for breath as Marty accelerates with a lurch. “I hope he hasn’t dented your car,” I say.

  “Quite all right. Government property.”

  Liv’s buttoning up her jacket, staring at me and at him, her head darting over and back.

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  “Oh, Marty, this is Liv; Liv, Marty.”

  Marty glances at her in his rearview mirror. “I thought it was me who’s supposed to get the naked girl.”

  “I’m not naked,” she snarls at him.

  “Not yet,” I murmur, my hand reaching for hers before she can button up too many of those buttons. My other hand trails down her thigh, from her knee to that soft warm place between her legs.

  “I never got to thank you for coming to my book reading,” I say, pulling her into me and cradling her jaw in my blood-stained hands. “You were coming to my book reading, weren’t you?”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t catch it,” she says, “You may have to give me a private reading.”

  “That can be arranged,” I say, pressing my lips down on hers.

  34

  LIV

  PANDEMONIUM BREAKS OUT WHEN we get to Belgrave castle. Marty has informed Alex about what’s happened. It’s going to be forever before we ever have a private reading.

  I cling tightly to Ken’s hand as we exit Marty’s car and walk up the steps of Belgrave Castle. I’ve no more doubts. Ken’s proven himself again and again but I was too blind to see. And too blinkered by Peter—who, it’s clear, has been sabotaging our relationship at every turn, but especially whenever he thought there was danger of Ken and I getting together again.

  “I’m so sorry I put you though all that,” I say to Ken when we finally find a moment away from the others in the hall. “And I just let him sabotage our relationship. I understand if you wanted to kill him.”

  “I did,” Ken says. He laughs, “I mean, I did want to kill him.”

  “But we sabotaged it ourselves too, every bit as much. Me, convincing myself I didn’t need a man. Though it’s true, I don’t. I’m happy on my own.”

  Ken looks at me askew and I place my hand on his cheek, smoothing over the jaw stubble. “But I’m even happier with someone who’s a little crazy, a lot passionate, and who knows how to light my fire.”

  “I gave you a hard time,” he admits. “Lost the run of myself, hell bent on revenge. I was living my life like some stupid Western. I’m so sorry, Liv.”

  “Well, now you’ve even more to avenge.” I trail my fingers lightly over his bruised cheek. “My poor brave warrior.”

  “No, I’m done with the warrior act. I’m sticking to Seb’s Excel sheets from now on. Keep your psychotic lovers away from me.”

  I chuckle.

  We join the others—Alex, Hayley, Lady Belgrave, and Martin in the kitchen—not because we want to, but because we have to. They’re gathered around the kitchen table, eating French bread and Comté cheese, and I realize I’m starving. The kitchen is the warmest place in Belgrave after midnight, and it’s now nearer two am.

  “Classic case of jealous husband not being able to let go,” Marty is saying to his rapt audience. “Liv picked the best tactic possible to throw him off his guard, by stripping off her top.”

  There’s a collective gasp as everyone processes this.

  “Did you have to mention that?” I ask, keenly aware of Ken’s mother gawking at me.

  “Yes.” Marty continues, “We’d been
watching Peter because of his connections to Greer, though. Greer—or rather Greer’s boss—is the mastermind of the mafia that want to leave their mark on British racing.”

  “What? It goes higher than Greer?” Ken asks.

  “Oh yes,” Marty says. “But that’s classified.”

  I look around their faces. Marty is an attractive man in this light if you’re into severe cheekbones and watchful eyes. A certain hardness around the forehead suggests ruthless training or deep thoughts, but offset by cheeks that dimple easily, suggestive of a wry smile.

  “Where’s Letty?” I ask.

  “She’s over in your house,” Ken says. “Remember, early start tomorrow? Your idea?”

  “Oh. Yes. I do remember now. But—”

  On second thoughts, I’m prepared to let Fate have her way with this one. “You know what? Never mind.”

  ◊◊◊

  Finally, we escape from Ken’s family and head up to his bedroom.

  “These five months have been pure torture for me,” Ken says, gently kissing my forehead.

  I groan. “Me too. Not to mention the last five hours.”

  We’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge of my bed, still holding hands as if letting go will break the spell of being together again. I sense that he needs to talk as much as I do. We need to make sense of what just happened and what happened before that again, and possibly all the way back to the first time we met, at Alex’s wedding, two and a half years ago.

  “I’m a mess, Liv. Or was. But I’m following my heart now in everything I do. And it always comes back to you.” His ardent green eyes beseech me in the semi-darkness.

  I blink back the tears. “Oh, Ken, my world was drab and grey, a pitiful thing until you came back into my life. You taught me to fight again. To live again. To love again.”

  “Let’s never be parted again,” he says, planting soft kisses on the back of my hand. “No matter what life throws at us. Because Liv Mackenzie I love you and you’re the only one for me. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

  “I love you too,” I say, falling into his embrace. Ken pulls my head up to meet his warm, tender lips.

  “Nothing and nobody can part us,” I say fiercely when we break off the scorching kiss, “and I do mean that. Peter can come with a whole army against us and it will do him no good. And I know there won’t be good fortune and happiness all the time, but there will be us, our bond, our love, and what we stand for.”

  “On that note, Countess Strathcairn,” Ken slides off the bed onto one knee on the floor. “Please take a bet on me and…”

  “Marry you?” I blurt because I just can’t hold it in.

  “Marry me, yes,” he laughs.

  “Oh my God, yes!”

  Ken slides his hands around my neck cradling my head for a moment before he dips his head and kisses me again.

  “When we’re married will there still be some of this?” he asks, slowly peeling my blouse off my shoulder and pressing his lips to my bare skin.

  “What do you think, Earl Strathcairn?”

  “Wow, that name seems… strange.”

  “But better than Picky Viscount, right?”

  “Well, I’m still picky… but yeah, it’s time I shed that nickname. Liv, I’m... honored to assume your family name. I just hope your father doesn’t mind.”

  I raise my gaze to the ceiling. “You know, I’m sure he’s smiling down at us right now.”

  “Thanks, my love.” Ken caresses my arm. Soon his gaze grows heated. “Do you possibly think you can you tell him to stop watching now please?”

  I smile. “Why? Are you going to do something indecent?” My hand wanders inside a gap between the buttons of his shirt and makes happy contact with a firm pectoral muscle with a pulse beating wildly underneath. I’m looking forward to making contact with those muscles and all the others too.

  “Something obscene,” Ken says, “And you’re going to love it.”

  And, as I sink into his chest, I know it’s true. Rough or smooth, angry or serene, he’ll gauge me correctly and give me what I need and I’ll instinctively give him what he needs back.

  We’ve come through it together and our enemies are out there but they’ve got to take us on as an unbreakable team now. I’ve taken my biggest gamble in life and yet it doesn’t feel like a gamble at all.

  EPILOGUE

  (SIX MONTHS LATER)

  LIV

  WE’RE FINALLY SITTING IN the carriage, ready to take the bumpy road back to Strathcairn. Although only a hundred people fit inside Fernborough’s local church, three times that number have gathered outside. It’s a mix of my tenants, the Belgraves’ tenants, and the generally curious. Our wedding has been hailed as the most interesting event since the duke’s own wedding three years ago where I first met Ken.

  It’s a beautiful August day with enough fluffy clouds in the sky to make us appreciate the bursts of sunshine as they appear.

  Jim hands the reins up to Ken—my husband. I’m giddy just thinking about it. It definitely hasn’t sunk in yet.

  The four most imposing of our sanctuary’s horses—two white, two black—are pulling our little two-seater carriage. The horses are decorated with garlands of white roses and silver reins. The color scheme of our wedding is strictly black and white, which I insisted on because I want to see the costumes as Ken sees them. It lends an unexpected elegance to already elegant gathering. My dress is simple, un-sequined, flowing silk in off-white.

  “It’s cheesy as hell,” Ken says, as the horses clop slowly down the road tossing their heads. He adjusts his silver top hat so it’s straight again.

  “And you love it,” I say, laughing. “It’s also good advertising for the sanctuary.” I bestow an extra big smile on a nearby local newspaper photographer.

  “Yep.” Ken jiggles the reins for the benefit of the crowd clicking with their camera phones. “And the guests’ kids will have fun with the rides afterward.” He leans back against the padded seat with one arm snugly around me, looking the picture of contented, domesticated male.

  Truth is, we don’t need advertisement for the business--we’ve taken on enough horses now to require a whole new set of stables. Letty runs a sister sanctuary over at the Belgrave stables and we have eighty horses between us at any given time. We find homes for two or three horses every week. It’s a drop in the ocean but that drop is getting bigger. I won’t deny that our respective family names have helped. And after Ken’s book got wide press exposure, Prince Charles gave his personal support and privately donated money started flowing in.

  My mother waves, catching my eye. She opted for black today, not white, but her Chanel two-piece ensemble is brightened by the silver detailing at the collar and pockets. Ken’s mum stands beside her, also elegant in anthracite. Their friendship is stronger than ever as they pursue the quiet, charmed life of a pair of occupation-less widows with enough money to surround themselves with comfort at all times not to mention offspring to run their estates for them. I wouldn’t have it any other way of course.

  Peter has never come back. Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf or maybe he just feels outclassed. I don’t care. He certainly didn’t get an invitation to our wedding. Edward Greer was arrested as well as the boss he worked for. Good old Marty saw to that. The secret agent disappeared that night after he brought Ken and me home from London and I haven’t seen him since. He did get an invitation though.

  “Where’s Marty?” I ask Ken. He’s the one face I haven’t seen in the crowd. My bridesmaid Letty would very much like to meet him and that’s the understatement of the century. She deliberately didn’t invite a partner so she could “free up her dance card.”

  “Couldn’t make it. Alex just told me. Work. Spy business never stops, apparently.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah,” Ken agrees.

  “How much longer will she have to wait?”

  Ken grins at me. “Knowing Letty, she’ll take matters in her own hand
s like the badass sister she is. Invade the MI6 building in Vauxhall place or something. Who knows, you may not be the only countess around these parts.”

  “Why?” I ask surprised. “Is Marty an Earl?”

  “Yes, a bona fide Earl, although he doesn’t talk about it much.”

  “Countess Badass,” I say. “You know, I like the sound of that.”

  Want to know how the Endowed saga continues?

  You can probably guess what's next, right?

  Yeah...

  Is poor Letty ever going to meet her James Bond, a.k.a. the secret service agent, Martin Spelling? Will he live up to her expectations?

  The short answer is "yes, but..." These two opposite characters do meet because Martin comes to stay at Belgrave castle. Hurrah! Only problem is, he still doesn't introduce himself to Letty as any normal guest would, even though they're both living under the same roof now.

  How could this be? you may ask. All will be answered in my next book, "Countess Badass", the concluding story in the "Endowed" series!

  You do not want to miss this one.

  Find out how the saga continues in ENDOWED#4, COUNTESS BADASS.

  So sign up to my email list now to get the alert when Letty's story is out (and to find out what's coming next!). You'll also get discounts and deals and book recommendations.

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  And finally, if you liked my book please leave a review on amazon (a few words is enough and will make all the difference to me) and then tell a friend about it. Or a colleague. Or your sister, brother, next-door neighbor. As long as people are reading and loving my books, I'll keep writing them. And don't forget if you want to know how the story continues, check out the fourth and final book in the "Endowed" series: Countess Badass. It's hot, with a crazy heroine who you will love, a hard-as-nails hero (who you will also love though it might take you a little longer), and with all the fun and pomp and characters of the first three books!