by Swan, T L
I frown, suddenly interested. “What’s up?”
“You know how I took Charlotte to the charity ball last Saturday night?”
“Yeah.”
“There was this guy sniffing around her.”
“Who?”
“Spencer Jones.”
I immediately type the name into Google on my laptop.
“Define sniffing,” I urge while I wait.
“Well, that’s the thing: I don’t know anything for certain, but it’s left me feeling uneasy all week, so I thought I’d better let you know.”
A collection of images appear, and I scroll through each of them, reading the first headline.
Bad Romeo Caught with Three Women
in the Same Day.
I clench my jaw. “What happened?”
“That’s the thing, they seemed to know each other. They were familiar when talking, and then he was kissing her hand.”
“Kissing her?” I snap and sit forward in my chair. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“Afraid not. I approached Spencer at the bar when she was out of her earshot and asked him what he was doing with Charlotte Prescott.”
I continue to scroll through the images of him with different women.
“What did he say?”
“He said, and I quote, Whatever the fuck I like.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you know this guy?”
“Yes, and I fucking hate him. He’s a womanising cad who sleeps with every supermodel in town.”
“Who is he?” I Google his bio.
“He owns a successful steel manufacturing company… does all right for himself.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“The guy stole a girl off of me years ago and it escalated from there. I’ve had run-ins with his friends, too. He hangs out with Julian Masters and Sebastian Garcia.”
I narrow my eyes even farther. I know Julian Masters. Our fathers have done business together in the past. I saw him once at Madison’s when he was coming out of a suite. He didn’t see me, though. If he goes to Madison’s, Spencer would too.
“What happened at the ball?”
“Nothing while I was there. He talked to Charlotte, he and I had words, and then later in the night, my mother fell ill so I had to take her home an hour before it finished.”
“You left Charlotte there alone?” I frown.
“She was with my sister Mariella, and she knew everyone at our table. Her guards were there, too, of course. But here’s the thing, as soon as I left, she was back at the bar talking to Spencer Jones again.”
My fury begins to rise. “Did they leave together?”
“No, separately.” He pauses, as if he has something else to say.
“What?”
“Look, I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I called around to see her the next day unannounced and she was… half-dressed, and she most definitely did not want me in her apartment.”
I sit forward in my seat, glaring at the images of this Spencer Jones with what seems like every beautiful woman on the planet. “You think he was there with her?” I ask.
“No, but it was obvious she didn’t want me there.” He pauses. “I don’t know, it just felt off, man. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway, it’s been eating at me ever since so I thought I should let you know. Spencer is the last fucking person that Charlotte should be associated with.”
I glare at the computer screen with a sarcastic smile plastered on his face.
“I can see that.” I inhale sharply. “Don’t mention this to father or anyone else.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll check it out, thank you. You’re a good friend.” I hang up and sit back in my chair, studying the Playboy in front of me.
“Over my dead body will you get your hands on her,” I whisper. “Over my dead body.”
Charlotte
I wake with a start, and I can tell by the light of the room that it’s now early morning. I get out of bed, go to the bathroom, and tiptoe down the hall.
My man didn’t come and get into bed with me when he’d cooled down like I thought he would. I’ve been thinking about it all night, and Spencer is right… I should have asked him before I jumped to conclusions. But he should have told me she came to him, and he was being deceitful when he hid the key from me. We’re both in the wrong here and I won’t take all the blame.
I open the bedroom door and my shoulders slump. The crumpled up bed is empty.
He must have just left, although he normally leaves at 5:30 a.m.
Great.
I head downstairs and make myself a cup of tea, then I sit at the kitchen counter as I drink in silence.
What the hell do I do now?
Damn this, I’m not spending the day worrying.
I take out my phone and dial his number.
“Hello,” he answers in a clipped tone.
“Hi.” I smile nervously. “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?”
“What’s the point?”
“Spence,” I sigh. “What did you expect me to think?”
“Exactly what you did.” He pauses. “I am my father’s son, after all.”
My heart drops. “Stop it and come back home. We’ll work it out.”
“I can’t, I have to work.”
I close my eyes. Damn it, why did I fly off the handle before talking to him?
“Will I see you tonight?”
“I’m busy.”
I frown.
“See you later.” He hangs up.
* * *
Five hours to stew on something is a long time. I sort through the mail on the table like a zombie, my mind with Spencer and how he doesn’t think he’ll see me tonight.
He said that he loved me.
“Are you okay?” Sarah frowns. “You’ve looked like shit all day.”
“Not really, I feel sick,” I lie.
“Go home.” Paul tuts. “We don’t want it.”
“Yeah, go home,” Sarah says. “We’re entitled to sick days. Just go, and we’ll tell them after you leave that you were throwing up.”
“Really?” I could go and see Spencer at work. “Is that okay?” I ask.
“Sure! Off you go.”
I can’t stand the thought of him thinking that I think he’s like his father.
I need to fix this situation right now.
I’m worried sick about this.
* * *
Half an hour later, I’m walking into Spencer’s building with Wyatt and Anthony close behind me. I read the lists of businesses in the directory in the foyer.
Universal Steel — Fourteenth floor.
We take the elevator up, and my heart beats furiously in my chest. Up until last night, I wouldn’t have thought Spencer had a temper, but now I know that he does and it’s a little scary. The doors open up to reveal a huge office space. It’s modern and decorated black and white with huge, brightly coloured abstract paintings along the walls.
The entire back wall is made of windows that overlook London.
Wow, this is something else.
Wyatt and Anthony stand by the door. I turn and give them a nervous smile. “I won’t be long.”
I walk through to the large reception area with my stomach in my throat. What if he doesn’t want to see me?
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asks.
“Yes.” I smile awkwardly. “I’m here to see Spencer Jones.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
She looks me up and down, and I raise my eyebrow. Who is this? The way she looks at me sparks something in my brain, and I hear the words leave my mouth before my filter kicks in. “Tell him that his girlfriend Charlotte is here.”
A frown crosses her forehead before she quickly recovers. “Just a moment.”
She taps a number on the phone and speaks through the headset.
“Yeah,” I hea
r Spencer’s bored voice say.
“I have a Charlotte here.” Her eyes come back to mine. “She says she’s your girlfriend.”
He exhales heavily. “Send her in.”
My stomach drops. It’s not exactly the enthusiastic response I was hoping for.
Maybe this is it?
She fakes a smile. “This way, please.”
I follow her through the office and people stop what they are doing to look over, at me. I keep my eyes on the floor. I’m so nervous, I can hardly lift my head.
She opens the last door and fakes a smile.
“Thank you.” I look nervously into the office, and there he sits behind a large black desk made of wood and glass. He’s wearing a grey suit, white shirt, and a pink tie, looking as edible as I’ve ever seen him. His eyes rise to meet mine and his jaw clenches.
The door shuts behind me.
“Hi,” I say nervously, twisting my fingers in front of me.
His eyes hold mine, and he rolls a pen across the desk with four fingers. “Hi.”
I walk around and sit on the desk in front of him, watching as he leans back in his chair.
“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
He stares at me, devoid of emotion.
“I’m sorry.”
He nods once.
“But I’m not the only one in the wrong here,” I add.
He nods again.
“This is where you say sorry, too, Spence.”
“I was only trying to protect you.”
“From her?”
He shrugs.
“Do I need protecting from her?”
He shrugs again and remains silent. I don’t think he knows what to say.
“I saw the key was missing, and then you called to say you weren’t coming home.”
“I know how this looks.” He sighs.
“Then why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed.”
“That I thought you were with somebody else?” I frown.
“Yes. Why would you think that? Have I given you any reason to doubt me?”
“No, baby,” I whisper as I crawl onto his lap.
“This is about your ten years with Sheridan,” I say softly. “I don’t know how to compete with that kind of history, Spence, and it scares the hell out of me.”
He slides his hand up my thigh. “I told you I’m not in love with her.”
I smile softly. “You said you loved me.”
His eyes fall to the desk, and I place my finger under his chin to bring his face back to mine. “Is that still true?”
His jaw clenches as his eyes hold mine.
“Spencer…”
He stares at me.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.
“Okay, well, I have something to tell you.” I run my fingers through his stubble. “You were right, I could never sleep with someone I didn’t have feelings for.”
Spencer
My heart sinks from her admission. “Who is he?”
She smiles softly. “He has white teeth and he wears a size thirteen shoe.”
I frown.
“He’s on the navigation team for Santa Claus.”
My face falls. “What?”
“He likes naughty kittens because he’s a big naughty kitten himself.”
“I don’t understand.”
She gives a subtle shake of her head. “There was no other man, Spence.”
My eyes search hers.
“Only you,” she says softly.
I frown in confusion.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with—the only person I have feelings for.”
My heart freefalls. “Are you serious?” I whisper.
She smiles and nods gently. “I wanted it to be you—”
“Why would you lie to me about that?” I breathe out, cutting her off.
I should have made it better for her. I try and remember how I took her the very first time. Was I rough? Did I hurt her?
“I knew that you were too scared to go through with it because you thought I was going to fall in love with you,” she admits.
My eyes hold hers.
She bends and kisses me softly. Her tongue gently slides through my lips, and I feel my arousal roll in.
“And it turns out you had a good reason to be scared of that… because I have,” she whispers.
I drop my head as emotion takes over, our foreheads coming together.
This feels so… real.
She puts her finger under my chin and brings my face up to meet hers. “I know this is crazy and we don’t even know each other properly yet, but I was devastated last night when I thought you were with Sheridan.”
I shake my head and look up at her. “How does this happen in ten days, angel? I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
She smiles. “You always hear people say that when you know, you know, right?”
Oh God…this beautiful woman.
“I know,” I whisper against her lips.
“I know, too. I’ve known all along.” Her lips take mine and our kiss is deep and passionate. It’s everything I’ve never had. Suddenly, I’m desperate to be alone with her—to show her what she means to me.
“Let’s go home,” I murmur into her hair.
“To your house?”
I stare at the perfect angel in front of me, and a thought of pure horror runs through my mind.
She can’t stay in my bed.
I need a new mattress before we stay at my house. I don’t want her sleeping where I’ve been with another woman.
I want a new start… with her.
“Let’s go to your house. It’s easier for the boys,” I lie. “We’ll stay at mine tomorrow night when we’ve made arrangements for them.”
“Okay.”
I stand and take her in my arms, holding her tight.
There’s no other man.
Only me!
This feeling, this overwhelming feeling I get from her is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I can’t get close enough.
It’s comforting, and yet it terrifies the hell out of me. She’s not just anyone, and I know for certain that her family are not going to accept me. I grip her tighter as the reality that I may lose her sets in.
“Let’s go home, baby,” she whispers against my shoulder.
I kiss her big, soft lips. “Let’s go.”
I pack up my desk and we walk out through the reception area hand in hand.
“I’m leaving for the day,” I tell Rosalie, my PA.
“Okay, Mr Jones.” She smiles as she looks us both up and down.
“Goodbye.” Charlotte smiles to her. “Lovely to meet you.”
“You, too!” Rosalie calls back.
We walk through to the foyer to find Anthony and Wyatt waiting patiently.
“Hi, guys,” I say to them both.
“Hey,” they both reply.
The four of us get into the elevator and I push the button.
I want to know why Charlotte is guarded. There has to be something more sinister going on than she is led to believe, and I intend to find out exactly what that something is.
“My car is out on the street today. Where are you parked?” I ask them. I don’t want Charlotte to be without them with her for a moment.
“Around the block,” Anthony answers.
“We’ll just go down and wait in my car until you come around, and then we’ll pull out in front of you, okay?” I ask.
“Okay, good,” Wyatt replies.
We walk out of the building hand in hand, across the quadrangle area.
“Charlotte?” a man calls out. “Charlotte Prescott...”
We both turn and see a photographer smiling as soon as he realises it’s her. Before we can do anything he begins to take photos. The camera clicks away picture after picture.
Charlotte’s step falters.
“Keep walking!” Wyatt snaps.
&
nbsp; Charlotte puts her head down, and I drag her by the hand as Wyatt approaches the photographer.
“Get the fuck off!” the photographer cries out when Wyatt tries to take the camera from him. They get into a struggle, leaving Charlotte and me to head to the car as quickly as we possibly can.
“Meet us at home!” Anthony yells, turning and running back to help Wyatt confiscate the camera.
I open the car door and Charlotte slides in. I run around to my side and, once secured in, we take off quickly.
I look out through the rearview mirror to see the two guards in a full-on scuffle with two photographers now.
“Oh my God,” Charlotte whispers, dropping her head into her hands.
I grip the steering wheel with white knuckle force, trying to concentrate on the road ahead.
Looks like the war is about to begin.
13
Spencer
We drive in silence, but my eyes keep drifting back to the road behind us to make sure we aren’t being followed. Charlotte sits in the passenger seat, staring through the windscreen.
I pick up her hand and kiss her fingertips. “We have four or five days before those pictures go live and that’s if we’re lucky.”
She glances over to me. “How do you know that?”
I clench my jaw. “I just know. If they want top dollar, then they’ll have to approach several tabloids to sell the images.”
She pulls her hand from my grip and gives a subtle shake of her head, somewhat annoyed that I’ve been through this before.
I hate that I have, too.
I exhale heavily as my eyes drift to the road behind us, once again. They can’t find out where she’s staying or her job is gone.
Great. It’s just my luck that a photographer who recognised her was outside my place of work. What are the chances? Nobody even knows who she is in London.
“You’ll need to tell your father that you went out with me,” I say. “Warn him of the images that could be coming out.”
She runs her hands through her hair. “It’s not that easy, Spencer.”
My eyes flicker over to her. “It is actually. You are allowed to see people.”
“You don’t understand.” She rolls her eyes.
