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?
I bite back the surge of testosterone and temper in my next words to Reid out of innate manners for the virtual stranger. ‘As you know, this isn’t the best week for me—find someone else.’
Besides, business ticks along pretty well. Typical Reid, trying to fix something that’s not broken.
Reid’s jaw tenses as his stare bores into mine. ‘You’ll recall the figures I emailed you yesterday.’ He’s talking about the continuing drop in uptake of the Off the Guidebook package, which sets us apart from our main competitors.
He slides a polite smile in Mia’s direction. ‘Mia’s work is award-winning. This is an excellent way to publicise our USPs in what is an increasingly competitive market.’
He doesn’t add that I’m the reason sales are down, or that I’ve lost my drive where growth of my business is concerned. World domination of the luxury travel and recreation marketplace is no longer of interest. He doesn’t need to—I’ve made my peace with the things I can and cannot control, preferring to focus on the former.
Of course, the most satisfying of those easily commanded areas of my life is sex. My eyes dart to the intriguing Mia.
Reid’s voice softens a fraction. ‘Both Bounty Events and the Faulkner chain will benefit.’ Even now he’s looking out for my business and reminding me of my responsibilities to the family, the brothers who stand by my side.
Another surge of futility erupts beneath my skin, forcing tension into my hands. I straighten my fingers, although I want to give rein to the fists this new twist inspires. The last thing I need is a distraction as appealing as Mia, and the timing will bite me in the arse.
I lean close, a last-ditch attempt to sway things my way with the minimum of effort. ‘We don’t need her,’ I say under my breath. ‘I don’t need her.’
Mia’s snort reaches us across the room, a fuck you to the subtlety I’ve tried to maintain for her sake.
She shows her steel. ‘I can hear you, you know.’ Reid and I both turn Mia’s way but she looks directly at my brother. ‘Temperamental you said, not rude.’
Reid sighs as if slapped in the face with those stained Y-fronts we’ve aired. So she’s been pre-warned about poor widower Kit.
She flicks her attention my way, ebony-hard eyes blazing challenge. ‘As of thirty minutes ago, Mr Faulkner, I’m under contract—all signed and sealed. Unless I fail to deliver the promised product, I expect the balance of my fee on receipt of the final, approved material.’ She smiles that dazzling smile, her eyes laced with defiance.
I sigh, turning away from my brother in disgust. If she’s here for three weeks to do a job sanctioned by me, one that will get my brothers off my back, I can’t even fuck her. 92 messy. Not that she’s shown any sign of sharing my physical interest.
My stare settles on the curve of her full mouth, the hint of pink tongue behind straight white teeth... On second thoughts, perhaps I could. Perhaps that’s the quickest way to get rid of her. We’ll have a good time. She’ll realise I’m an arsehole she can’t change and want nothing more to do with me.
Reid moves, snapping the soupy tension that coils across the room, connecting this enigmatic woman and me like tentacles.
‘Well,’ he slaps my shoulder, ‘my work here is done.’
I shoot him a look that promises retribution. I must imagine the residual flicker of concern on his face because Reid casts me the smug grin of someone who’s not that fond of his teeth. ‘Don’t forget the theatre tonight—’
‘I’m well aware of my professional commitments.’
Although I could do without them today.
Reid nods. ‘Give my regards to Mr and Mrs Sanchez.’ He strides to Mia, who stands and shakes his hand with another of her knockout smiles. Already there’s a warmth to their leave-taking that adds another convoluted twist to my knotted intestines.
Reid’s parting shot ends any hope of my day panning out the way I’d planned—getting through, alone, with only my dark thoughts for company.
‘Perhaps Mia could accompany you to the theatre tonight?’ He tosses a malicious grin over his shoulder, so reminiscent of teenaged Reid, who enjoyed flexing his superior strength over his younger brothers.
Bastard.
He looks to Mia for her nod of approval. ‘She doesn’t officially start work until tomorrow,’ he adds, ‘but... I’ll leave you two to work out the finer details.’ With one last smirk he departs, optimistically closing the door behind him.
If he were any sort of gentleman, he’d have held the door open—the fascinating foreigner currently staring at me as if trying to figure me out won’t be staying that long. I turn to the woman I can’t fuck or fire, a tight smile on my face.
