Mr. Trouble: A London Billionaire Standalone (London Billionaires Book 2) Page 8

  “You haven’t been home have you?” she asked softly.

  Jarred frowned. “Why?” He hadn’t been home. He had spent the night at Turner’s, who wasn’t happy to be woken up at 2 a.m. but Jarred hadn’t wanted to go home.

  “I left you a note,” she answered with a sigh. “I’m back at my place now. I left you the address in case you, well, if you needed me.”

  He grinned, just because she thought he needed her. Hell, he did need her. The realization was like a sucker punch to the gut. Damn, what had happened to him? “I’ll come over. We can order out some food.” She didn’t answer right away. “Come on,” he urged. “We need to spend time together to prove that we are a couple. I’ll spring for whatever food you want.”

  “All right,” she finally said. “I get off at five. You can come over at seven.”

  “See you then,” he said, ringing off before she could change her mind. After running from her last night, he was going to run to her tonight and the thought was far more exciting than going to any club.

  Jarred arrived right at seven, with flowers and a few bottles of a nice red wine, feeling like a teen going out on his first date. The flowers had been a last-minute thought, thinking that Kinsley would probably like them. What woman didn’t? The address that she had provided in her note was an older building, one of the charming sections of London that still had some of the original structures, far removed from the modern buildings near the heart of the city. No wonder she wanted to stay in this area.

  Walking up to the building, he located the lift and found himself in front of her door in no time, nerves mounting inside. His hands were bloody shaking. What was wrong with him? Disgusted with himself, he knocked on the door. It opened a moment later and Kinsley was standing before him, dressed in a simple T-shirt and leggings, her hair down around her shoulders.

  “Hey,” she said, giving him a little wave.

  “Hey yourself,” he said, presenting her with the flowers. “I got these for you.”

  “They are beautiful,” she said softly, taking them from him and inhaling their scent. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to,” Jarred responded, a grin on his face. The flowers had been a good call. “I brought wine too.”

  “Come in then,” she said, stepping aside to let him pass. He briefly thought of kissing her, thinking that was what couples did. But they weren’t really a couple and he wasn’t sure how she would react. So instead, he just walked in, surprised by the colorful scene before him.

  “I, welcome to my flat,” she said behind him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I know it’s vastly different from yours.”

  Jarred took in the brightly colored couch and chair, the mismatched furniture that somehow worked in the space and found that he liked here far better than the sterile feel of his father’s company flat. He could see her personality in her living space. No wonder she wanted to save the place. “I like it,” he said, turning toward her. She blushed and turned to the kitchen, taking a pitcher and arranging the flowers in it before setting them on the island.

  “So your father didn’t have a chance to talk to me today,” she said as he set the wine on the counter. “He got wrapped up in some business issue and was out of the office the rest of the afternoon.”

  “That’s good,” Jarred replied. “It’ll give us a chance to concoct a story for tomorrow. You blew him away Kinsley. He’s infatuated with you.”

  She bit her lip and busied herself pulling down some wine glasses from the cabinet. Jarred opened the wine and poured them both a healthy glass, holding it up for a toast. “To bright futures,” he said. She clinked her glass against his and then took a large swallow.

  “This is good,” she said. “Good choice. I hope it wasn’t too expensive.”

  He grinned, knowing now not to tell her exactly how much the wine cost. He doubted a few hundred pounds broke the bank, but it would embarrass Kinsley and that wasn’t his intention. She took another sip before setting her glass on the island. “So, what’s going to be our story?”

  Jarred leaned against the island, his glass in his hands. “I don’t know. Tell me about your dream wedding.”

  “Dream wedding?” she echoed, her eyes widening in surprise.

  He nodded, knowing all women had planned out their entire future when they were, like, ten. “You know, what would you want it to look like?”

  She took another healthy swallow of the wine, her brows knitting together. “I, wow, I don’t know if I’ve thought about it.”

  Jarred laughed. “Surely you have thought about it. I thought all women had the shit like written down somewhere.”

  Kinsley laughed, her cheeks flushing from either his musings or the wine, he couldn’t tell. “I’ve never written it down. I guess I just always thought it would fall into place. I really don’t care about the wedding; it’s more about the person.”

  As soon as she said it, she looked away. Jarred cleared his throat, feeling a bit like an ass for asking. He knew he wasn’t ideal marriage material. Susan had been clear with him on that. He had pushed Kinsley into this, playing on her weakness, her need, and now he was trying to pry into her life.

  “Well,” she finally said, her glass now empty. “What about you? Have you ever thought about marriage?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she covered it, dawning horror on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean anything.”

  Jarred held up his hand. “It’s fine, really,” he said, vaguely uncomfortable with the mention of his failed engagement. After last night, he was kind of glad his relationship with Susan had ended like it had. “I’m good with it.”

  Kinsley reached over and grabbed the wine bottle, pouring herself another glass. “I have to say, she’s not your type.”

  Intrigued, Jarred drained his glass and poured the rest of the bottle in his glass. “What’s my type Kinsley?”

  She took a large swallow. “I don’t know. Someone outgoing, able to put up with you.”

  Jarred laughed, thinking that she had danced around the question. She was his type currently; she just didn’t know it. What he thought was going to be an uptight, hard assed woman had turned into someone he enjoyed spending time with. After all, he was here tonight, with a beautiful, lively woman he suddenly couldn’t get enough of. “Well I don’t need much then.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked softly, her fingers playing with the stem of her glass and avoiding his gaze.

  Jarred swallowed, a thousand thoughts of what her question could be running through his mind. “Sure.”

  “Why do you hate your father so much?”

  The absolute worst fucking question she could ask. He would give her his bank account number over answering that question. “Why do you want to know?” he asked abruptly.

  She looked at him then, her expression sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry into your life like this. I just, I can’t understand what has driven this rift between the two of you.”

  “I-I never live up to his expectations,” Jarred finally said, the swell of disappointment building in his veins. He never did. No matter what he got involved in or the grades he made in school, nothing was enough to satisfy his over-achieving father. More than once, Jarred had heard how he’d screwed up in his lifetime.

  One day in particular stood out, when he’d overheard his father telling one of the board executives that his son would never amount to anything. “A loser,” he’d called Jarred, laughter in his voice. “That’s all he will ever be.” The words had stung more than Jarred had anticipated. While he wasn’t the son he knew his father wanted him to be, he wasn’t a fucking loser either. After that, he just quit giving a shit about what his father thought of him. However, he never anticipated his father taking away his source of income and putting him in this situation. Bloody hell it sucked.

  “I can never be the almighty Harrison Maloney. I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want to be my grandfather. I w
ant to be me.” He wanted to be happy in whatever he decided to do with his life.

  “You’re not your father,” Kinsley said. He waited for the punchline, the ways she was going to tell him how he failed like everyone else liked to do, but she didn’t. “And you shouldn’t try to be. Jarred, you should find something that you are really good at, something that makes you happy and stick with it. Screw your father or whomever else tells you that you are a nobody.”

  Jarred watched the passion flare in Kinsley’s eyes as she gave him a pep talk, the warmth spreading over him as well. She was quite a surprise. How had he not noticed her before now?

  She looked away then, her cheeks flushing red and Jarred realized he was staring, making her uncomfortable. “That’s good advice,” he told her, not wanting to make her feel awkward. Maybe he needed to hear that from someone else, someone that barely knew him.

  He watched as Kinsley finished her glass and reached for the other bottle, breaking open the seal before pouring another full glass. “So,” she said as she sat the bottle on the counter. “What’s going to be our story for your father?”

  The real reason he was here. Jarred had forgotten all about it. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, sipping his wine. “Can’t you just throw one of those fits about wanting to plan your own wedding?”

  She laughed, a warmth in her eyes from the wine. “Do you really think that will work?”

  Jarred shrugged, a grin on his face. “Hell, I don’t know but it’s worth a shot.”

  Kinsley giggled, cocking her head to the side. “You know, I would have never expected you to be so …”

  “So what?” Jarred asked, finding himself wanting her to finish the sentence. What did she see him like?

  “So likeable,” she said with a blush, drinking her wine nervously. “You’re not the rich playboy I expected.”

  Jarred set his glass down, glad that she didn’t think he was a snob or something. He never had been. If he had, then maybe he and his father would have gotten along better. Maybe he and Susan would be married now. A shudder went through his body at the thought of being married to someone like Susan. She had shown her true colors last night and Jarred couldn’t help but be glad he’d dodged that bullet.

  Kinsley took a few steps forward, until she was directly in front of him. He looked down at her, taking in her natural beauty without all of the makeup and shit that women liked to pile on. It was nice to see what was underneath. “I want to kiss you,” she said suddenly, her tongue darting out to wet her pink lips.

  Yes. Hell yes. Surprised at her boldness, Jarred forced himself to put on an easy grin, his thoughts scattering. Kiss him? She could kiss him whenever the hell she wanted to. “You can do whatever you want to me Kinsley.” His cock twitched as if to say, “Yes, please.”

  She gave him a slight smile before reaching up, pressing her lips to his. Jarred felt the warmth of her skin touching his, the way her lips nibbled on his lips and felt the sudden rush of want enter his body, igniting him from the inside out. He wanted her, there was no doubt about that. Hell, his pants had never felt so tight before.

  She deepened the kiss, her hands reaching out to touch his shoulders and Jarred took the opportunity to put his hands on her waist, drawing her until they were flush. She let out a small gasp and he swept in, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Her taste was intoxicating and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get enough of it. Her hands clenched into his shoulders as he ravaged her mouth with his, his own grip tightening on her waist, waiting for the opportunity to move. Would she allow him to do that? When had he held back on what he did with a woman? But this was Kinsley, the woman that was saving his ass. She wasn’t just any woman, not to him.

  She pulled back and he allowed her to, seeing the dull flush of her cheeks, the redness of her lips from his kiss. “I think, I mean I want,” she started, her words not coming out in complete sentences.

  Jarred leaned down, his hands roaming up her back. “What do you want Kinsley?”

  Her breath was warm against his cheek, rapid puffs of air that told him she was excited at what was transpiring between them. He sure was. He had the hard on to prove it. “I-I think I want you,” she said softly, her words barely above a whisper.

  Jarred chuckled, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he pulled back to look at her face. “You think or do you know?”

  Kinsley chewed on her lower lip, refusing to meet his gaze. “I know,” she said finally.

  Thank the heavens above. Jarred grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch, falling on it before pulling her down with him. Before she could even grasp what he was doing, he had her pinned under him, his upper torso covering hers. “I fucking want you,” he said, emboldened by her own bold words. After their near fucking session last night, he was ready to get this party started with her. He would be good to her.

  Her eyes widened and he covered her mouth with his, feeling her arms encircle his neck. She kissed him with abandon, her own tongue seeking out his and surprising the hell out of him. This was the woman he wasn’t expecting. With his own hands, he slid under her shirt and cupped her breasts, still encased in a lacy bra. She arched against his touch as he found her erect nipples, rolling the points between his fingers. He was hard as a rock, the thought of having Kinsley naked under him nearly breaking him.

  She pushed on his shoulders and he broke the kiss. “I-I-let me slip into something more comfortable,” she said, killing the mood instantly. “I’m sorry.”

  “No worries,” Jarred said, sliding off of her and standing. If she saw the tent that was in his pants, she said nothing, sliding off of the couch to a standing position and stumbling slightly as she walked down the hall. Jarred ran a hand through his hair roughly. Jesus, what was she doing to him? This was worse than when he was a teenager. Because he knew just how good she’d feel around him. He needed to take it slow. He didn’t want to give Kinsley any reason to call this off. Hell, he might explode if she did.

  He waited a few minutes before starting down the hall himself. Maybe she had decided to go ahead and climb in the bed. “Kinsley?” he asked as he located the bathroom, finding it empty. There was no way she could have escaped without him noticing. Walking into the bedroom, Jarred drew up short of the bed, finding Kinsley sprawled out on one side, still in her clothes. Bloody hell.

  Had she really had that much wine? She’d had what? Two glasses? Maybe she didn’t drink much. But either way, nothing was happening with them right now. He walked over to her and was relieved to see the rise and fall of her chest. She was going to have a devil of a headache in the morning.

  Jarred looked at her, smiling as a soft snore escaped. He hated that their night had ended so abruptly. For one of the first times in his life, he’d actually been enjoying himself. Turner would be shocked that he, Jarred Maloney, party animal and drunkard, was stone cold sober and watching a woman sleep.

  Walking out of the bedroom, he went into the kitchen and cleaned up their mess before turning off all the lights. What the hell was he doing? It was like, well, he was domesticated. Cutting off lights? Cleaning up messes? That wasn’t him, yet it felt normal. Jarred looked back toward the bedroom, knowing that he should leave but he couldn’t make his feet actually move to the door. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go back to his sterile flat and sit in the dark by himself. He didn’t want to go out to the club only to think about her the entire time he was there. Jarred knew all he wanted to do really was climb in that bed with Kinsley.

  “I’m so fucked,” he muttered to himself as he stalked toward the bedroom. She was still there, sleeping as he kicked off his shoes and shed his shirt, stepping out of his trousers, but leaving on his boxer briefs before silently climbing in the bed beside her, careful not to wake her. After pulling the quilt on the end of the bed over the both of them, he looked up at the darkened ceiling and sighed. What was he doing here? What would have happened between them had she not passed out?

  14
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br />   Her head felt like it was going to explode. Groaning, Kinsley opened one eye and put her hand over it immediately, the shaft of light splitting her already aching head. What had she done last night? She wasn’t one to over imbibe in alcohol, hating the way that she would feel in the morning. Well, like she was this morning.

  Rolling over, her hand collided with warm, skin. His sandalwood scent wrapped around her and God, he smelled so good, she couldn’t help but inhale. She ran her fingers over the skin and she hummed to herself. She’d pulled someone with amazing muscles and abs.

  Slowly her eyes drifted open and she was greeted by Jarred’s sleeping face. She jerked back. Oh shit.

  What the hell had they done last night? Kinsley looked down and blew out a breath when she realized she was still fully clothed. Oh thank heavens. But he was shirtless? Oh hell, had he tucked her in?

  Her heart squeezed at the thought. Why was he being so sweet? She was lucky they hadn’t slept together.

  Sleeping with him would have just complicated things. Not only that, but she would have been wasted and not able to remember a thing. Sleeping with Jarred, that would be something she would want to remember.

  Taking a moment, Kinsley looked at Jarred as he slumbered mere inches away from her. He was still gorgeous while he slept, some of the walls he put up to hide his true emotions vanishing. His face was full of sharp lines and angles but they worked for him, his strong jaw dusted with stubble. She loved stubble on a man. His hair was falling across his forehead, her gaze following the lock down the slope of his near perfect nose and equally perfect lips. She had kissed those lips and liked it, a lot. Her eyes followed the slope of his shoulder, seeing the strength of his muscles against his tanned skin. Her hands itched to touch him, to feel the strength for herself, but Kinsley refrained. She didn’t want to wake him just yet. With a sigh, she continued her perusal of Jarred while he slept, thinking that not only did he look relaxed, he looked vulnerable, vastly different than the cocky man she was used to seeing. Why was he here if they didn’t sleep together? Why had he stayed? Whatever the reason, Kinsley couldn’t help but soften to him once again. This was the unexpected turn of events that she could never properly prepare for with Jarred.