Prepared to Fight

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Prepared to Fight Page 13

by E. J. Shortall


  “Hi,” Nate said when I looked up, his eyes bright.

  “What… what are you doing here?” I sounded far too excited as I stood to greet him.

  “I’m just on my way to the airport. I was hoping to talk to you before I left.”

  “Nate I—”

  “No, please, let me say this. I’m sorry I went behind your back. I know it was a bastard thing to do and you have every right to hate me for it. But I want you to join me over there. This training centre means a lot to me, and I trust you to come up with the best plans for it.” His smile faded. “I know things got a little weird between us the other night, and for my part in that, I’m sorry. I want you to know that this is purely a business proposal, just in case you were worried about my intentions.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, Nathan. I accept your proposal. This will be good for me as an architect. I’ll join you in France.”

  His lips pulled up into a rare, dazzling smile. “Thank you, Olivia. I promise you won’t regret it. Can I give you a lift home so we can discuss the logistics?”

  On our way out, we bumped into Barbie-bitch and her clones. The feeling of satisfaction I got when she preened in front of Nate and he totally ignored her was better than any revenge I could have planned for her. Then she trained her eyes on me and the look of startled recognition on her face had me grinning widely. As we passed, I couldn’t help but toss out a mouthed ‘thank you’ in her direction. Her bitchy comments had been the catalyst to everything, and she deserved recognition for it. Yanking my bag higher on my shoulder, I lifted my head high and walked out, proud, and ready to see where this adventure was going to take me.

  ~CHAPTER TEN~

  Two weeks later

  I took a deep calming breath as the plane jolted to a stop and the fasten seat belt sign blinked off. Everybody around me began frantically jumping from their seats and fumbling around in the overhead lockers to extract their belongings. I sat still and looked down at my shaking hands. I’d arrived in Nice and had no idea what to expect from this point on.

  Two weeks had passed since I’d agreed to join Nate to work on the plans for his new training facilities. In those two weeks, I’d had very little contact with him other than a couple of brief phone conversations and the barest of information via email on what I could expect whilst I was there. During those two weeks, I realised I’d missed him and couldn’t wait to see him again.

  Despite my head telling me I was going there to work, that crushing on someone was the very last thing I should have been thinking about, I’d found myself thinking about him. A lot. I missed seeing his face around the gym. I even missed his abrupt bossiness when he pushed me further than I felt comfortable with. Mostly, I just missed him being around.

  I shook my head and tried to convince myself that the shaking hands were because of the flight. It didn’t work. I’d never had a problem with flying before. In fact, I loved flying. I reasoned that maybe it was due to the fact I’d not eaten lunch before I boarded the plane. Again, it was a feeble excuse. No, my hands were shaking because within thirty minutes—depending on baggage reclaim and passport control—I would be seeing Nate again.

  ‘He’s a client,’ I kept telling myself, over and over again. ‘He’s hired you to come and do a job. Be the professional you claim to be.’

  Outside, on the tarmac, little trucks began whizzing around preparing to refuel the plane and remove our luggage. It was chaotic but orderly, all done to precision timing. I wished I could get my brain to work in the same way. My thoughts were running rampant through my head, causing a whirlwind of confusion and unease.

  My nerves had not been helped by a lack of contact from Adam. After our heated exchange in my office, he’d been staying out of my way. I’d catch the odd glimpse of him at work, but for the most part, he was out when he could be, or he stayed locked in his own office. He didn’t call or text, and he hadn’t been to the gym. It killed me that he’d distanced himself. In a world of crazy, he’d always been my constant, my shoulder to lean on or my voice of reason when I screwed things up. But for two weeks, I’d had nobody. I missed him. I needed him… as my best friend.

  People started moving down the narrow aisle and I noticed the plane’s door had been opened. When the crush had passed, I grabbed my bags from the locker and made my way towards the exit. I had no idea what the next few weeks were going to have in store for me, but one thing was for sure, no matter what, I was going to have a good time—with or without Nate. I would make damn well sure I did. I was, after all, on the Cote d’Azur, playground for the rich and famous. I smiled to the cabin crew as I passed. Yes, whatever happened, I was going to enjoy myself.

  ***

  There were people everywhere as I pulled my belongings through into the arrivals hall. I looked around for Nate but couldn’t see him anywhere. Mindful of the goings on around me, I hauled my stuff off to the side and fumbled in my bag for my phone. I needed to double check our emails to make sure I was in the right place or see if he’d sent a message to say he’d been delayed somewhere. I powered it on, and while I waited for it to readjust to a new network location, I watched the people around me. There were business men and women arriving in their sharp suits with briefcases and phones attached to their ears. Holiday makers filed through the doors in their skimpy summer wear looking happy and excited, while tired-looking people sauntered through, having obviously just returned from their own vacations. I smiled as a group swarmed a boy—he couldn’t have been any older than eighteen—clapping and cheering for him. He was obviously returning to a hero’s welcome. But still there was no sign of Nate.

  When my phone settled on a network, I checked my messages. There was just one new text message. It was from Nate and had been sent just before I’d boarded the plane in London.

  Hope you have a smooth flight. See you later. N

  “Hey, hey, it’s JB,” a bright, cheery voice sung to me from behind just before an arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders, scaring me half to death.

  “Get off me, you creep. Who the hell do you think you are?” I fought off the arm and glared into unfamiliar, yet familiar eyes as I prepared to knee the man where I knew it would bloody hurt.

  The stranger chuckled before bowing in a grand gesture. “Do forgive me. The name’s Wes, Wes Oakes,” he said in the worst Sean Connery, James Bond accent I’d ever heard. His eyes sparkled in amusement when he righted himself and stuck out his hand. “And you must be the lovely Olivia. Nate was wrong about you, you know? You aren’t just beautiful, you’re sensational.” I flushed at the compliment and despite the bizarre situation, my lips curled up at the corners. Nate said I was beautiful?

  “Come on, let’s get you to the car.” He grabbed the handles of my cases and started walking off.

  “Wait! What the hell?” I yelled and ran after him. “Who exactly are you, and where is Nathan?”

  “I just told you, I’m Wesley and Nathan is… somewhere.” He grinned sheepishly and winked.

  Whoever this guy was, and whatever he was doing, he was doing it too fast. Struggling to keep up with his fast pace in my flip flops, I cursed myself for not wearing a pair of jeans and my converse.

  “Where is somewhere? I thought he was supposed to be meeting me.” He had been forced to slow down to allow a group of people to walk by which let me catch up enough to try to talk.

  “He’s got things to do, places to go, people to see. So, you get the pleasure of my company instead. He’ll be around later.” With the area clear, he walked off again with long purposeful strides.

  “So I’m just supposed to go off with you, a complete stranger, to God knows where? I don’t think so.” I practically had to run to keep up with him.

  Wesley stopped again and sighed. “Here!” He shoved something in my hand. “See. Wesley Oakes, born June 27th 1992. Now I’m not a stranger.” I looked down at the driver’s license in my hand.

  “So you are…”


  He smiled, his bright grey eyes so like Nate’s and dancing with humour. “Nathan’s much sexier, younger brother. It’s nice to finally meet you, JB. Can we go now?” I bit my tongue at his use of that name as he grabbed my hand and gently pushed me along towards the exit.

  We had just left the airport boundary behind us and were speeding along a French motorway heading north when I asked, “Where exactly are we going?” I was seated next to Wesley in the plush leather passenger seat of another Porsche Cayenne, a white one. I vaguely wondered if Nate had shares in Porsche, and then I remembered who he was. The cars were probably all part of a major sponsorship deal. That was still something I hadn’t been able to comprehend. Nathan Oakes, personal trainer and gym owner, was actually a highly successful, well respected and famous mixed martial arts star.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Wesley said. He peered over at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window, wondering where Nate was and what he was doing. Why hadn’t he been there for me?

  ***

  “We’re staying here?” My eyes bugged out of my head and my jaw fell to somewhere around my ankles as Wesley stopped the car in front of a huge palatial hotel from the Belle Époque period, sitting in the heart of Monaco. “I thought Nathan had a secluded property in France,” I whispered, fearing normal voice levels would spoil the aura of the luxury building.

  A valet approached and opened the car door for me with a courteous smile. I was seriously impressed. Never in my life had I seen such extravagance. “Merci,” I replied with about the only French I could remember from school.

  “Nate does have property not too far away. It’s an old vineyard about forty-five minutes from here.” Wesley came around the car and joined me as my bags were being unloaded from the back. “We have to be here for a few days for press conferences and shit. He hates it but it’s all part of the game.” He shrugged and grabbed my hand, tugging me into the reception area that was brightly decorated in rich tones of cream and gold. An elegant chandelier hung from the ceiling, shedding a golden glow over a central table with a large floral display of pink and white wildflowers.

  Well-dressed men and women stood around talking, whilst others lounged elegantly in the low, cream and gold-coloured armchairs scattered around the place. I allowed Wesley to continue pulling me as my eyes took everything in. I was in awe; no, it was more than awe. Words could not describe how I felt as I devoured everything with my eyes, itching to get my sketch-books out. I wanted to document it all and commit it to memory so I could use the inspiration at a later date.

  Wesley still had a hold of my hand as we stood at the reception desk to check into my room. I didn’t question it. I didn’t even feel his hand in mine as mesmerised as I was with my surroundings. I looked up from studying the intricate scroll pattern in the flooring and met Nate’s searing stare from across the room. I smiled brightly, happy to see him. But my smile dropped when I noticed his tight jaw and eyes so stormy I expected to hear thunder at any moment. He didn’t look happy.

  Nate kept his gaze locked on mine as he continued his conversation with a well-dressed guy and a blonde lady who were standing beside him. The guy said something and Nate nodded tightly in response. Turning slightly, Nate’s companions followed the path of his laser beam stare and found me on the other end being burned by the pure heat and power of it. I squirmed as the man’s hands flew into the air and gestured wildly and the woman simply glared. Their conversation continued. It was clear the guy was exasperated with Nate. Finally, Nate broke the hold he had on my sight and turned abruptly, moving to get into the face of his male companion. I watched as they faced off until Nate had clearly lost his temper. The woman placed a hand on his arm, appearing to calm him. It was obvious she was familiar with him. Just how familiar was not something I wanted to consider. Nate pulled his arm away and walked off, leaving the pair staring after him. The suit called out something that I couldn’t hear.

  “Leave it, Mal. This has fuck all to do with you,” Nate bellowed as he approached Wesley and I. “Olivia.” He greeted me tightly and stood to my side.

  “Nathan.” I replied in the same tight tone.

  Wesley turned from the desk and, for the first time, noticed his brother’s presence. “Oh, you’re here. I was just asking for the keys.” His boyish grin dropped when Nate glowered at him.

  “No need,” Nate snapped. “I have them. Are you coming Olivia?” He scowled at my hand still resting in Wesley’s and strode away with purpose towards the elevators. Holy shit, what is his problem?

  “He has been a fucking prick since the minute we left the UK,” Wesley announced as I tugged my hand free and started following Nate. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had woman problems. Only, he isn’t one to get flustered over a bit of skirt. No offence.”

  “None taken,” I replied automatically.

  Nate stopped at the elevators and hit the call button before turning around. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of relief across his handsome face when he saw I was standing close to him and Wesley was a few paces back. He looked down and finally gave me one of his rare genuine smiles. After two weeks of not seeing it, it took my breath away.

  “How was your flight?” he asked softly.

  “Uneventful.”

  The elevator doors slid open, and Nate stepped aside, gesturing for me to precede him in. When Wesley approached, Nate lifted his hand to stop him. “I’ll take it from here and get JB settled,” I pursed my lips, still loathing his general use of that pet name. “Besides, Mal needs to talk to you. There’s a problem with Bennett he needs to discuss with you.”

  Wesley’s shoulders lifted into a shrug and he nodded. “Sorry, Liv, duty calls. I’ll catch up with you later. Don’t let this dick boss you around.” He pointed his thumb in Nate’s direction. And then he was strolling off across the lobby with the same powerful grace as his brother.

  “So, it’s just you and me then,” Nate murmured, following me into the mirrored cube.

  “Just you and me,” I replied settling into the corner. I almost whimpered when he stepped in beside me, standing so close I could feel the warmth of his flesh burning against my bare arms. Taking a deep breath, I savoured his scent as it floated through my nostrils, awakening senses in me that had been dormant for the previous two weeks.

  We remained silent as the elevator ascended a few floors and then smoothly came to a stop. Nate steered me out, with his hand resting almost indecently low on my back. We stopped beside a set of large, decorative, white double doors. “This is where you’ll be staying for the next few days.”

  “And where will you be?” I asked glancing along the corridor. There weren’t many other doors.

  “Right here. With you.” His grin was devilish as he stepped forward and swiped a key card into the reader. As soon as the handle mechanism beeped and the small light changed to green, he was pushing the doors open and disappearing inside.

  “Holy shit! Are you fucking kidding me?” If I thought the rest of the hotel had shocked the bejesus out of me, this room—no it wasn’t a room, it was a fucking mansion—had me on the verge of hysteria. Shouldering past him, I stepped further inside.

  Laid out before me was a large lounge area that was easily as big as my entire flat. It was decorated in shades of cream and taupe with a large Aubusson rug covering the wooden floor. Elaborate ornate mouldings edged the ceiling and walls, and strategically placed wooden furniture sat proudly in prominent positions. Several grand, white lamps occupied side tables while tribal pictures and statues were both out of place and somehow fitting.

  I walked over to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that followed the curved contour of the outer edge of the room. As I got closer, I realised the windows were in fact three sets of French doors leading out onto a large balcony. The doors were framed with taupe and mocha drapes while white voiles blew gently in the breeze. It was a room of extreme opulence, yet it felt comfortable and h
omey.

  “I take it you like it then?” Nate asked.

  “It’s amazing.”

  A large gust of wind had the voile panels billowing wildly and I got my first proper glimpse at what was beyond the doors. I gasped and stepped out onto the balcony, keeping my eyes glued to the vista before me. From where we stood, we had a perfect view of numerous boats and yachts of all sizes gently bobbing in the clear waters of the harbour.

  “Oh my God,” The words tumbled from my lips in a rush as my hand lifted to my mouth. I’d seen it all on TV before when I’d been sipping on a beer whilst watching the grand prix. But to actually be there, witnessing those things first hand, it was unbelievable. And absolutely stunning.

  “Impressive, huh?” I felt Nate move up close behind me.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in the warm, salty sea air. My head spun with so many emotions, so many mixed feelings. Since stepping off of the plane, everything had been a whirlwind, a crazy concoction of events that had left me bemused yet happy. I just needed to take a moment to soak it all in and centre on the here and now.

  “I missed you, you know?” Warm breath laced with the scent of mint whispered past my ear as demanding fingers grazed along my flesh as they smoothed my hair over my left shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

  My body sagged and my breath hitched when Nate placed a gentle kiss to my bare shoulder and wrapped his strong, muscular arms around me. Trying to sound unaffected, I asked, “Um, what are you doing?” My soft, breathy response betrayed me and was more of a plea to not stop than it was a question why. It felt nice being in his arms, but I couldn’t understand why he was doing it. It wasn’t just a friendly gesture; that would have been a quick hug and then move on. It also wasn’t exactly the act of a lover. A lover would have been more demanding, wanting to push the moment on to something else. There was something in the gentle way he held me just then that was almost reverent, like he didn’t want to cling too hard in case he squeezed me clear away.

 

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