London Calling: BWWM New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers Book 2) (3 page)

He was hardly prepared to materialize the perfect girlfriend out of thin air. Especially one who didn’t expect complicated entanglements. “Sod it. I’ll sort it out.”

She sighed. “I know you won’t listen to me, but maybe this time you should. Go out, find a nice girl. Someone wholesome-looking who will play along and who will
hang around
. At least for a bit. You’ll have to produce her from time to time for it to not seem like a ploy. You don't want to get booted just as soon as you get on.”

She had a point there. While LeClerc might appreciate his gumption, he wouldn’t like being made a fool of. “Would you relax and let me worry about that? Believe it or not, I occasionally know what I’m doing.” It looked like he would be paying Miriam a visit. He belatedly wondered how she would do with “wholesome.”

T
here was
no way she could do this. Imani paced the long foyer of the posh Notting Hill flat. Yeah, sure she needed the money.
And
it was good research, but this was stupid. She knew it was stupid. But here she was, wearing a dress that probably cost more than this term’s tuition with shoes that made her mouth water and her pocketbook ache. She hadn’t really had anything appropriate, so Miriam had lent her some clothes.

There is no sex. There is no sex
. She checked the large clock on the far wall. If she was going to run, she'd better do it in the next ten minutes. She dragged in a deep breath.
Relax. Miriam said he never wants to have sex. He only wants to talk.

She tried to picture herself as an extremely well paid therapist, just chatting away with a client. What therapists did she know that wore La Perla and Jimmy Choo? While the tiny voice tried to speak up, tried to convince her of her madness, the daredevil inside her tried to be calm.
He’s just going to talk
.
All you have to do is be yourself and find out about him. Sex is not on the menu
.

Besides, she had pepper spray. Actually, make that several bottles of pepper spray. She’d left them around the flat in case she got into a situation she couldn’t get out of.

She tried to remember everything Miriam had told her. "Be yourself. Be calm. Let him talk about himself. Don’t talk about yourself. He'll be surprised and perhaps not that thrilled to see a replacement, but if you get him talking, he'll relax.”

You can do this. You’re brave. This is for Ebony.

The clock chimed nine. The soft dongs of the bells made her stomach pitch. Now or never. She couldn’t have run even if she wanted to. When she heard the scratching at the lock of the front door, she was powerless to move, completely frozen at her spot on the window seat. Before leaving, Miriam had dimmed the lights of the flat and lit candles to make the hypermodern flat seem more relaxed. It looked awfully romantic to her.

"Miriam?" A deep, raspy voice called from the front door. The smooth quality of it washed over her flesh, warming her from the inside. "Are you here?"

That voice
. It made her skin tingle. Smoothing a hand down her dress, she sucked in a breath, then released it slowly. As the heavy footfalls approached, Imani tried to swallow, but she couldn’t get around the sawdust. She shifted to the left in her staggering heels and tried to peer around the pillar. She stumbled slightly, and her dress caught on the hook on the wall.
Damn it.
This thing probably cost more than her rent. She didn’t need to come up with the mortgage
and
pay Miriam back for ruining her fancy dress. She wiggled and a stitch ripped.
Oh shit
. She immediately stopped moving. She was going to tear this dress off her body if she moved.

The lights flickered on to full power and she held her breath, lifting her gaze to meet the most astonishing set of slate-gray eyes she'd ever seen—deep set and surrounded by thick, sooty lashes. Sandy blond hair, an angular jaw, high cheekbones and pouty mouth completed the picture of that amazing face. And the body, tall, lean and rangy. He was beautiful. There was no way this guy was the talker. He oozed sex appeal in spades. “Oh God.”

He spoke at the same time through ground teeth. "Who the fuck are you and where the fuck is Miriam?"

Shit
. “You probably hear this all the time, but this is not what it looks like.”

Tall and beautiful cocked his head and his lips twitched into the hint of a smile. “You mean you’re not a beautiful girl in my flat, uninvited, wearing a handkerchief of a dress then?”

She shook her head. “Nope. All a figment of your imagination. But while you’re imagining things, could you, uh, maybe help me unhook myself? I’m sort of stuck and I don’t want to rip this dress. It costs more than my flat.”

He raised a brow. “So if you move, that dress rips right off of you?”

Imani sputtered. “What? No. Look, if you help me down, I’ll get out of your hair and you and Miriam can reschedule.”

His intense gaze roved over her body. “Okay. On one condition.”

She swallowed hard. Was he going to ask for something kinky? Besides just wanting to talk? “What’s that?”

“You tell me who you are.”

Xander’s body locked into position as lust, closely followed by confusion and anger, flooded his veins. His brain fired off a stream of questions as he tried to make sense of the situation. Instead of Miriam, this girl with the wide, hazel eyes stood in his Notting Hill flat.

Who the fuck was she? And why did she make his muscles bunch and his skin tight and itchy? From where he stood, the faint hint of coconut and hibiscus tickled his nostrils. The way the moonlight hit her honey-brown skin, she looked luminescent. And God knew that dress didn’t cover enough. Or maybe it covered too much. Admittedly that last thought, was just…wrong on so many levels. And what the fuck did he care what her name was?

He didn’t need this kind of shit tonight. What he needed was Miriam. He had just over a week to find someone suitable to take to Paris. He could kill her for pulling this shit. They had an arrangement. It didn’t include substitutions. “Are you going to make me repeat myself? Or are you going to tell me your name?” Her eyes went wide at his raised voice, forcing him to modulate his tone and bite back a curse. “Please.”

She blinked several times causing her long lashes to just dust her cheekbones. “Uh, Jasmine. Like I said. There was a mix-up and if you can just help me down, then I’ll be out of your way. No harm, no foul.”

“You’re American?” He asked with a cocked head.

“What? The accent give me away?”

There it was again. That twitchy thing his lips kept doing. Why did she make him want to laugh when right about now all he wanted to do was strangle Miriam? “For all I know you could be from Canada.”

She nodded. “Eh?” She muttered with a rueful smile.

This time there was no stopping the chuckle that escaped. As he shook his head he wondered just how crazy this girl was. For starters, she didn't look like a Jasmine and secondly, she was
no
escort. There was something real about her. She wasn’t manufactured. She wasn't hard and world weary, too sophisticated. She could make him laugh. “So tell me, Jasmine from Canada, what’s a nice Canadian girl like you doing working as an escort?”

“What are the chances you’ll believe I’m working my way through school?”

“About as much as me believing your name is Jasmine.”

She licked her bottom lip, drawing all his focus to that full bottom lip. “Look. This was a mistake. Just forget I was here.”

Considering she was the reason he was here, that was unlikely to happen. “You realize a nice girl like you could get hurt playing around like this?” He spread his hands. “Was this Miriam’s idea?”

Her brows furrowed, even as her chin tilted stubbornly. “Look, Miriam said it was supposed to be a no-stress kind of thing. I’m sorry. I really am.” She covered her face with her hands. “Just help me get unhooked and I’ll go. You clearly don't want me here any more than I want to be here, so…” Her voice trailed off.

“Who said I don’t want you here?” He stood rooted to the gleaming hardwood floor as the truth seeped inside his skull. He did want her here. This was the first time he’d laughed properly in weeks. Not to mention, there was something about her that made her accessible. Easy to connect to. She was completely guileless and wanted nothing from him. Too bad that made him want
her
. Her sassy attitude, her wide eyes and a mouth that looked like it was handmade to suck his cock had him itching to touch her.
Stop it. What the fuck is wrong with you
? He hadn’t come here for sex tonight. Though, someone should probably tell his cock that, because the fucker was starting to swell in his jeans.

There was no way Miriam’d do this to him. He’d made it clear he needed to see her. Why the fuck would she do this when he needed her?
You’ve never tried to sleep with her before.
Xander spun on his heel. This was so fucked up on so many levels.

Some of the tension rolled off her shoulders. “D-do you need to talk? Miriam said you would want to.”

That broke the spell. Soon, Jasmine or whatever her name was, would have questions about why he was seeing an escort to talk and he didn't need that headache. “No, I don’t need to talk. I’ll release you and then we can promptly forget we met, yeah?”

“Fine by me.”

“Just one thing, though, I want your word that you’re not going to do this again. You’re not cut out to be an escort.” He strode toward her, tossing the envelope of Miriam’s usual payment on the mantel. He stopped when he was just a foot away from her. The coconut and hibiscus scent was more potent now. Was it her shampoo? Damn, it made him want to nuzzle her hair. It was official. He had issues.

“Trust me, I won’t. I’ve had enough of walking on the wild side.”

He’d reached for her but stopped before he touched her shoulder, his blood going thick and his voice dropping an octave. “Is that why you’re here? To walk on the wild side?”

Her head reared back. “No. I thought I could do this. But I can’t.” Wiggling a little, she raised her brows pointedly. “A little help, please.”

He muttered a curse and tried to reach behind her without touching her, but no dice. His motions just made another stitch rip. “Why the second thoughts? I’m not your type?”

A strangled laugh escaped her pretty, pink lips. “Really? Someone as good-looking as you fishing for compliments now? Why don't you tell me why you’re even here to see an escort if all you want to do is talk? I’m at a loss for why. But hey, it’s your prerogative. No judgment.”

He cocked his head. “Somehow, that look on your face looks an awful lot like judgment. I’ve seen that look on my mother’s face enough to recognize it.” This close, he could see the flecks of green in her hazel eyes. And even better, he could tell that even though she was slim, those curves of hers weren’t enhanced. Enough to overflow his big hands. The evil side of his brain conjured an image of him fucking those honey-brown tits. What color would her nipples be?
Mocha?
An even more alluring image replaced it. This one had him fucking her ass cheeks. His cock sliding between the firm, oil-slick globes as he held on tight to her flesh.
Fuck
! He was a dirty boy. And fuck if he didn't want to show her just how dirty.

He shook his head to rid himself of the image.
Release her and fucking find Miriam
.

She nodded and her hair brushed his cheek. “Is that why you’re seeing escorts? Mommy issues?”

His muscles went tight as he fought to keep from nuzzling and inhaling deep. God, she smelled good. “You have a smart mouth for a Yank.”

She glowered at him. “And you have pretty teeth for a Brit.”

She licked her lips again and the action made his mouth water. He, he wanted to kiss the sass right off of her. Swaying a little, he said, "I needed Miriam."

"Sorry, you got me instead. And since you don’t want to talk—"

He studied her intently as both hands reached behind her. With his body pressed flush against hers, his fingers worked the material over the hook. “Who said I wanted to
talk
to Miriam?”

Jasmine immediately attempted to flatten herself into the wall, but unfortunately for both of them, all she managed to do was trap his hands and bring their bodies closer together. He frowned and halted momentarily. "I'm not—" He shook his head. "I wouldn't hurt you."

"Isn’t that what the praying mantis says just before biting off the head of its mate?" Despite her question, she relaxed again.

The corner of his lips tipped up in a sardonic smile as he resumed his extrication. "Consider it foreplay."

She stiffened again. “On second thought, I’ll just get myself free.”

"You’re stuck. I’m just trying to release you so you can get out of my flat.” He softened his voice. “Maybe, since I’m pretty sure you can clock my heart rate, you tell me your real name?”

“I—” She sighed. “It’s Imani.”

“See, how bad was that? I’m Alexander.” She licked her lips, and his gaze narrowed on her mouth. “Fuck, you’re really going to have to stop doing that."

She shifted on her feet. "I’m nervous. It’s not like I'm doing it on purpose."

Xander shook his head and peered around her at the hook. There was no way to get her off the damn thing without pressing into her. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

He sucked in a deep breath and with it the scent of her. He could feel his pulse beating a tattoo under his skin. The closer he stood to her, the choppier his breathing became.
Want
. He needed to unhook her and get the hell away from her. His cock, however, disagreed. Vehemently.
Need
. He reached around her and tried to gently pry the fabric off the hook and hearing a stitch tear, he stopped. The only way to get her off was to lift her.
Her body pressed flush up against his
. On no planet was that a good idea.

Xander clenched his jaw hard as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her smoothly off her feet. Her body molded against his like a spray on tan.
Want. Need
. He managed to unhook her and set her feet back on the ground, but not before sliding her all the way down his body. Every curve of hers pressed against him and he wanted to do a lot more to her tits than just fuck them. Like lick, suckle, and tease until her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure. He needed to step away from her. The last thing he needed was a complication. But every command his brain gave went unheeded.

"You're a little close, aren’t you?" Her voice was soft.

Another soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm not sure you understand how this is supposed to go."

She swallowed hard. "Oh, I understand the mechanics, but…” She paused, not sure how to put it. "You said that you didn't want to…uh…talk."

He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair between his fingers. "I think I changed my mind. I
do
want to talk. But there's something about you that makes me want to touch too."