The Trouble With Coco Monroe

by CC MacKenzie

  A big plus was the way Nico and Bronte Ferranti had absorbed him into their lives and the lives of their close friends. Without fuss or fanfare he’d learned the door of The Dower House was always open. Their house might be stunning, but first and foremost it was a family home. A happy home filled with love and laughter. The niños were a delight, too.

  This morning the senior staff meeting had gone well. They were a bunch of men and women who were on the ball. So no hassle from them, yet. Guest feedback was excellent in the ninety-seven per cent very satisfied percentile, which for a place this size was outstanding. Nico had picked up a couple of Jacob’s suggestions for improving systems in the restaurants so he felt that he was adding value. And he’d made notes of excellent ideas to put into practice in his hotel, The Prince Felipe Ortiz in the Bahamas. Although knowing Alexander Ludlow those ideas were already being implemented.

  When his father, Don Norberto Juan Ortiz Conde Del Garda, and Nico Ferranti had come up with the plan for a job swap between him and Alexander for three months, he had to admit the idea hadn’t held much appeal. However, the reality was he’d needed a break. The island of Bimini held too many bad memories. Memories that made it hard for a person to move on.

  Jacob was not a man who trusted easily or who gave freely of himself. Not because he’d had an unhappy childhood with no love or affection, far from it. He came from great wealth and a loving supportive family, thank God. It was more the fact that he was built that way. His brother Lucas always said that Jacob felt things too much; happiness, pain, sadness, anger, and he took too much to heart. Perhaps he was right because when he’d found true love he’d also found a level of personal happiness, a contentment soul deep, he’d never thought he could experience, which at the end had turned into the living hell he existed in each and every day.

  To think he used to roll his eyes at lilting Spanish songs about heartbreak and love lost. He’d learned the hard way it was a vastly different experience when it happened to you. A broken heart sucked the soul from a man. It made sleep impossible. Food didn’t taste the same. Flowers didn’t smell the same. But worst of all was the anger, the feeling of bitter betrayal that burned like battery acid in his gut.

  And that brought Gabriella right to the forefront of his mind. It didn’t help that he tortured himself by having her picture on the screen saver on his laptop. When she’d spotted it, his sister-in-law Rebecca had simply put her arm around him and kissed his cheek. She’d said nothing, but her tiny sigh of disappointment hadn’t gone unnoticed. Becca had gone through the worst kind of personal loss, the tragic death of her first husband and baby. All she’d said was that he’d have good days and bad days and eventually the good days would outweigh the bad.

  Unlike Becca’s late husband, the love of Jacob’s life was still very much alive.

  The brisk knock on the door jolted him out of his preoccupation.

  And he ordered himself to get a grip.

  His personal assistant Elena popped her dark head around the door.

  “Janine Faulkner of Sweet Sensations is here for the weekly meeting. Do you want me to take it?”

  He liked Janine. She was professional and excellent at her job. Plus he’d met her socially a few times at the Ferranti’s. And he very much admired the way she was courageously rebuilding her life after tragedy and her devotion to her child.

  Jacob shook his head.

  “I will see her. Gracias, Elena.”

  Rising, he walked around his desk as Janine entered his office.

  He couldn’t help but smile at her slightly harassed expression.

  She was tall, wand slim and today wore a sleeveless sheath of shot silk in ice blue. It was high at the neck and showcased her spectacular eyes and short pixie cut of blonde hair.

  Rather than shaking her hand, he took it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of the fragrant silky skin.

  The way she grinned at the old fashioned gallantry of the move made him raise a brow.

  Not even a tingle of attraction from either of them.

  Unlike most men Jacob didn’t take it as a hit to his ego that a beautiful woman felt nothing for him, but as a gift.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. Car trouble.”

  He waved the apology away as she sank into a fat leather chair.

  Rather than sitting behind his desk, he relaxed into the chair next to hers and crossed his legs.

  “I noticed you drive a rust bucket.”

  Placing her briefcase on the floor she gave him big eyes.

  “I need to give it a decent burial. Rosie’s told me to use her car while she’s away. But it’s so shiny and new and I’m terrified of driving a sports car with Boo in it.”

  At the mention of her infant daughter, Jacob grinned. “And how is the bebé?”

  “Growing like a weed. She’s so content and happy. I’m very lucky.”

  Again his admiration for her only grew.

  How could a woman who’d lost her new husband, found herself in debt, pregnant and alone consider herself lucky? Surely if she could overcome such a setback, build a new life and triumph, then he should be able to get over a broken heart?

  Since she was still breast-feeding her baby Janine refused coffee but accepted water.

  Sweet Sensations were supplying spectacular cakes for two society weddings at the hall. And they discussed logistics and on site preparation along with bookings into the following month. Janine had everything at her fingertips as could be seen by the way those fingers flew over her laptop while she spoke.

  As she packed up, the thought had no more entered his head than he acted on it.

  “Why don’t I take you out to dinner this evening?”

  Stunned, she stared at him and then grinned.

  “Why would an attractive bachelor want to take a single mother out for dinner?”

  “Is there a rule that says a man cannot spend time with a woman for company or as a friend?”

  Crossing long legs kissed by the sun, Janine relaxed back in the chair, regarding him with serious eyes.

  “It isn’t easy moving away from family and friends, to settle in a new environment, a new country. Are you lonely?”

  Was he?

  “Perhaps. I feel comfortable and at ease in your company.” Now he frowned. “And in my experience a platonic friendship between a man and a woman is rare.”

  She pouted in a way that made him smile.

  “Are you trying to tell me you don’t find me alluring and attractive?”

  His bark of laughter had her eyes twinkling with sheer mischief.

  “Be honest, querida. You are not attracted to me either.”

  For a moment she went tense and he wondered if he’d over stepped the mark.

  “You know I’m not. I don’t want to be attracted to any man.”

  Now he leaned forward, took her hand.

  Puzzled by the tone and the dark cloud in those vibrant eyes he studied her carefully.

  “Your heart might be broken now but one day you will learn to love again. You are a beautiful woman. The man who captures your heart will be very fortunate.”

  She shook her head.

  The light of fun no longer lit up her face, her eyes, and he was sorry for it.

  “It won’t happen again. I don’t have room in my life for a man.”

  He dropped her hand.

  “Do you have room in your life for a new friend?”

  She picked up her laptop bag and stood.

  Jacob rose, too.

  Eyes the colour of a sunny sky held his.

  She smiled. “A person can’t have too many friends. What time and where are we going?”

  With his hand on the small of her back he walked her to the door, opened it.

  “I thought the new Bar and Grill in town. And it is casual. No need to dress up. We can relax. What do you think?”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. Is seven too early?”

  He took her face between his hands and sta
red into her eyes, relieved to see the dark clouds had lifted. Placing a platonic kiss on each cheek, he stepped back.

  “Perfect. I will book a table and pick you up at ten to seven.”

  “Look forward to it.”

  She turned to leave just as Joshua Erichsen rose slowly from a couch in Elena’s office.

  Jacob didn’t miss the way her stride hitched or the sudden tension in the atmosphere between Janine and the architect. He didn’t miss the man’s deep frown of annoyance as she barely said hello and moved swiftly past him and out the door.

  They shook hands before Josh entered Jacob’s office.

  He was carrying a tube of plans for a planning sign-off for the redesign and rebuild of an old stable block.

  Usually the architect was pretty laid back and easy going.

  Not today he wasn’t.

  After ten minutes of curt responses, Jacob perched his hip on his desk and folded his arms.

  “Something is wrong?”

  “You don’t waste any time,” Josh growled.

  Bewildered, Jacob stared at him. “You have lost me.”

  “Janine. You’ve been here what? A few weeks? And you’ve got your hands all over her.”

  The penny dropped.

  Jacob grinned as his eyes went wide.

  “Ahh, you have feelings for her?”

  “She’s been through a very hard time. And she’s vulnerable.”

  “So you do have feelings for her.”

  “My feelings are my own and none of your business.”

  Jacob merely shook his head.

  No way was he going to get into a fight with a man he liked for no good reason.

  “There is nothing between us. She regards me as she does Alexander, as a friend.”

  Now Josh’s eyes narrowed.

  “That was not a friendly kiss.”

  Offended that his word was not taken as the gospel truth, Jacob strolled around his desk and sat in his chair.

  “There is no attraction between us. She is not in the market for a relationship and neither am I. And I do not need to account for my behaviour to you,” he said in a tone that meant business. Josh held up his hands in a peace sign. He looked so miserable Jacob took pity on him. “If you feel that way why are you not taking her out to dinner instead of me?”

  Now Josh scowled in a way that had Jacob bite down hard on his bottom lip.

  “She’s blown me off twice. Won’t give me the time of day.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I’m not being an asshat when I say women like me. I’m a nice guy. Janine looks at me as if I get my kicks by boiling live kittens.”

  “Perhaps it is because she senses you want more than friendship?”

  Now Josh ran a hand through his hair, around his neck, before their eyes met.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Si, and she is not ready.”

  Josh sighed. “I know. And it’s fucking killing me.”

  “You should come running with me tomorrow morning,” Jacob said in a silky voice.

  Josh picked up the challenge.

  “Yeah? How many miles?”

  “Five.”

  “Every day?”

  “Si.”

  “Shit.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rafael Cavendish was not a happy man.

  He liked women.

  He did.

  Most of the time.

  But at the moment two women were driving him fucking crazy.

  He picked up the glossy magazine.

  ‘The Top Ten Most Gorgelicious Bachelors and How To Catch Them.’

  Hadn’t he warned the journalist not to include him in her article?

  Hadn’t he said no?

  And what the hell was ‘gorgelicious’? It wasn’t even a word for Christ’s sake.

  And where the hell had they found that God-awful photo?

  It had been taken a year ago when he’d escorted a friend to a charity event. In it he was wearing an Ozwald Boetang tuxedo, which looked cool. But what really bugged him was the smirk on his face as he stared down at a blonde with gravity defying breasts.

  His temper was at a nice steady simmer as he glowered, skimming through the piece again.

  Apparently he was number three.

  Hottie Number Three: My name is Lord Rafael Cavendish. Peer of the realm and all round action hero.

  Bullcrap.

  Height: 6’4”

  Frame: Lean and lanky with well-defined muscles, not overdeveloped.

  Eh?

  Weight: 200lbs.

  Bullshit. He was one ninety and worked out every day.

  Eye colour: Melted dark toffee.

  Pass the sick bag.

  Hair: Black, straight and brushed back from a smooth unlined forehead. I have slashing cheekbones and the face of a warrior. Woo Hoo!

  Jesus H. Christ.

  Financial status: Wealthy but not loaded. Needs to work for a living.

  And fucking proud of it, sister.

  Career: Ex-Army Captain. Currently employed by Monroe Industries as Head of Global Operations and Security – salary in six figures.

  Past significant others: Too numerous to mention, but has recently been seen around town squiring an Orthopaedic surgeon. Likes cerebral types and women who wear grey. Bimbos need not apply.

  His short relationship with Liz had ended months ago.

  I’m TDH. Yes, indeed I am. And women love me. Which is unfortunate for them because I will NEVER love them back. Women who are too beautiful make me suspicious - they always have a fatal flaw - it’s just a case of finding it. To win my heart you’ll need to be ruthless and able to cope with my colossal ego.

  Whisky? Tango? Foxtrot?

  Good luck girls, you’ll need it!

  “What the hell is TDH?” Rafe demanded to know.

  Eyes glittering with suppressed laughter, his PA handed him a coffee.

  “Tall, dark and handsome.”

  “I’m gonna sue,” he said feeling very hard done by.

  “It’s a five-day wonder,” a deep voice rumbled from the open door.

  Rafe sent Ethan Monroe a bland look.

  “Easy for you to say. Why are you not in here? You’re richer and prettier than me.”

  Ethan accepted a cup of coffee, flashed a white smile of thanks to Rafe’s PA and made himself comfortable in a well-upholstered leather chair the colour of a battleship.

  “I was out of the country when the call came through. She couldn’t get her claws into me.”

  Rafe swore loud and long. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

  “That’s what you get for not being polite.”

  “Women!” Rafe said in a tone of utter loathing, which brought his mind back to the other woman in his life that was giving him a very hard time.

  He took a breath and eyed Ethan.

  “She’s not returning my calls.”

  Ethan shrugged knowing exactly who he was referring to.

  “You and my father need to step back and give her space.”

  Rafe knocked back half the coffee and felt the heat hit his gut.

  “Look what happened the last time we gave her space. It nearly killed her.”

  “You can hardly blame Coco for that.”

  If Rafe was feeling fair he’d agree with the statement but since he wasn’t he didn’t.

  “No. But I can blame her for not listening to the rules.”

  Ethan shook his head. “I’ve been forgiven so she’s speaking to me. Busy with the new house. If you just let her be she’ll come to you. My sister never holds a grudge.”

  Rafe didn’t want to tell him she’d held a grudge against him for years. Or that at Rosie’s wedding he’d made things a hell of a lot worse between them.

  He checked his watch and his cell.

  “She’s late.” He jabbed the cursor and got through to Coco Monroe’s driver. “Where are you and why’s she not answering her messages?” The response he received had him nod befor
e he switched off the phone and slipped it into his jacket. “Ten minutes ‘til she arrives at the club and apparently she’s ignoring me.”

  Ethan sipped his coffee, eyeing him over the rim of the cup.

  “She’s not a child, Rafe. My father may never acknowledge that fact. What’s your excuse?”

  He could hardly tell Coco’s eldest brother and his best friend that he was more than aware that his baby sister was all grown up or that thoughts of what he wanted to do to her in his bed had kept him awake for over a week.

  Frustration with her and with himself made his voice hard.

  “She’s a spoilt party animal who needs to get a life.”

  Ethan merely raised a dark brow. “She’s not partied for months,” he reminded him.

  Rafe frowned as he cast his mind back to the last time she’d been out on the town.

  Christ, the fallout from that night was tattooed on his brain. It still broke him out in a cold sweat. “Sorry?” He blinked as he realised Ethan had spoken.

  “My flight leaves in a couple of hours, I’ll speak to you from the Big Apple. Enjoy tonight. Try not to strangle her. My father would never forgive you.”

  Ethan knew perfectly well that babysitting his sister wasn’t Rafe’s idea of fun.

  He sent him a dark look. “I’ll try and restrain myself.”

  As the door closed behind Coco’s brother, Rafe leaned back in his ergonomically designed chair.

  He’d had a bad feeling about her all day. Ever since he’d received a police tip-off from a source in Scotland Yard.

  Samson, her bodyguard, had taken personal time, which was so unprecedented Rafe’s bullshit bone tingled. No matter what, Samson stuck to her like fucking glue.

  If there was one thing Rafael Cavendish always listened to it was his gut. And his gut hadn’t been ringing an alarm like this since Afghanistan.