At the timely reminder of the date, my stomach rolls, sharp and unpleasant, banishing the Mia-directed kick of lust. For the thousandth time this morning I force my mind away from memories and in particular my anniversary. If only I could distract myself with the delectable Mia.
Nope.
Sex is off the table, at least until I’ve survived tomorrow.
Anyway, my libido was ahead of itself, because exotic Miss Abbott isn’t looking at me with the level of interest I’ve grown to expect from members of the opposite sex. Hell, yes, I’m arrogant, but it’s as if I had tattooed emotionally unavailable widower on my forehead three years ago in neon ink.
How do women know? I must give off some pheromone that tells them I’m only looking for no-strings sex—the hot, carnal fucking of all their fantasies. On my terms.
Of course, once they’ve experienced the ride, most of them think they can change me, although I’m clear about it from the outset. That they think they’ll be the answer to all my problems, start imagining they can put a smile back on my face, is the problem.
Reid finally explains his Monday-morning Antipodean companion. ‘I’m glad we found you here.’ Shadows move behind his eyes, as if he can’t decide between relief I’m where I should be and concern that my presence at work might tip me over the edge. He ploughs on. ‘Mia will shadow you for three weeks. Can I leave you to give her the tour?’
Wait, three weeks? Shadow?
My shirt peels from my back as my muscles tense. Shelving the charm all three Faulkner brothers once possessed in spades, I question his highhandedness in front of the lady, my patience for his mistake non-existent. ‘I’m afraid my brother has been a little premature, Ms Abbott. I’m not currently in the market for a new assistant. Sorry he’s wasted both our time this morning.’
Mia’s wide eyes flick to Reid, but her full mouth twists as if she and Reid are in on some private joke.
Am I amusing...?
Perhaps she can’t decipher the cut-crystal nuances of the Etonian accent that cost my parents a fortune. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Who the hell is this woman, rocking up for an interview dressed like a student, only to find her potential future boss laughable? And what the fuck is going on in my brother’s head? Refreshing, appealing, sexy—nothing makes up for frank insubordination.
‘Oh, I’m not a PA.’ Mia speaks, humour igniting the flecks of gold in her irises. Irises she then rolls. ‘Wouldn’t have the first clue how to organise you. And I’d suffocate in an office job.’ Her amused stare scans my space and then settles on me.
So, this is a social visit and despite the cool way she’s assessing me with her toffee-apple eyes, perhaps Mia is looking for some holiday fun...
Great! Lay down the rules, check she’s on the same page of the casual sex manual and invite her out for a drink on Wednesday.
I ignore the rising heat in my groin—somehow still a betrayal. My guts twist, pulled in two opposing directions.
I glare at my brother, an ache radiating through my face from teeth which are clamped together. ‘Care to explain?’ I’m tired of his interference. I’m not a total arsehole—I know it comes from a place of caring. But it’s about time both he and my other brother, Drake, and the old man came to terms with the new, unimproved me.
Reid’s lips tighten, a sign he’s pissed and probably a little embarrassed that we’re airing our soiled Y-fronts in front of the enigmatic Ms Abbott. He’s like that—do the right thing, keep everyone else on track, boldly navigate the waters, no matter how rocky.
Reid clears his throat. ‘Mia is here to make the promotional film.’
I keep my face blank and ignore Mia’s tiny cough as she crosses her arms over her waist and looks down at the white carpet underneath her well-worn Converse.
Reid’s mouth hardens as he steps closer and dips his voice to a frustrated murmur. ‘Look, I know this is a difficult time for you, but we discussed this at the planning meeting last month. You signed off on her appointment.’ He slides a tight smile in Mia’s direction.
I shoot Reid a hard frown, certain I didn’t sign up for whatever the intriguing Mia Abbott is selling, but then, I don’t actually read the documents pertaining to the smooth running of our chain of boutique hotels. That was my assistant’s job.
My back muscles start to cramp I’m wound so tightly. Whatever has brought Mia around the world, I want no part of it. These days I work best alone. I upset fewer people that way. If I could fuck alone, I’d have no need to interact with others whatsoever.
I slip my hands into my trouser pockets and puff out my chest in my oldest brother’s direction—I could still take him and we both know it. ‘Promotional film?’ I slide an extra layer of bite into my tone. He or Drake can help Mia—she’s the last thing I need this week. I snatch another glance in her direction, the selfish-bastard part of me rebelling at passing her company over to either of my single brothers.
She’s still smiling as if highly amused by the brotherly face-off playing out for her entertainment. I clamp my jaw closed—I can’t decide if I’m pissed off or impressed by her audacity; keen to kick her out on what is probably a glorious arse—my biggest weakness—or kiss the amusement from that wide, generous mouth.
Reid scrubs his hand through his hair and shoots Mia an apologetic look, as if I’m an errant child who hasn’t practised scales in time for his piano lesson. ‘It’s all in the memo. If you hired a new assistant, perhaps you’d find it easier to stay on track.’
My answering grin is laced with antipathy. Reid knows I careered off track three years ago after my wife died, following one measly year of marriage. And now I’ve reached an impasse. I work when I want, control what I can and ignore anything else. Having your life literally snatched from your helpless hands will do that to a person.
My brother sighs. ‘You know we’re revamping the Faulkner Group’s website as well as the websites of each hotel. We’ve brought Mia in to make a promotional video that highlights all the best features our hotels offer, especially the Off the Guidebook package.’
The fog clears a fraction. He and Drake need my signature on anything to do with Bounty Events’ Off the Guidebook. It’s my business, offering tailored memory-building experiences for the discerning traveller—one I started after uni—and its links to the Faulkner hotel chain through the once in a lifetime packages we offer our guests ensure a mutually beneficial partnership.
‘Well, this is news to me.’ I offer Mia an apologetic smile for her wasted trip. I could take her for a consolation drink later in the week...
‘You agreed.’ Reid scratches a spot just above his left eyebrow—a sign of his mounting frustration. Any minute now he’ll drag out the for-fuck’s-sake-get-a-grip lecture he delivers at least once a week, one he adopted in his role as self-appointed caretaker to Drake and me after our parents split when I was fifteen.
Without waiting to be asked, Mia moves to the comfy seating area and relaxes into a white leather armchair, where she watches our discussion with bold, fascinated eyes, her fingers tapping a rhythm only she can hear on the chrome arm of the chair.
My hackles rise. I should be annoyed that she’s blatantly enjoying this sibling showdown but it’s the pulsing blood in my groin that wins the battle, and I have the inconvenient urge to tell Reid to fuck off, then strip her bare and go down on her where she’s sitting while she enjoys my view of London. Will she still find me amusing when she’s coming on my tongue?