by Judy Angelo
So Much
TROUBLE
WHEN SHE WALKED IN
JUDY ANGELO
The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series
Volume 11
Copyright © 2013 Judy Angelo
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise (mechanical, photocopying, recording or stored in a retrieval system) without the prior written consent of the Publisher. Such action is an infringement of the copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Author contact:
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BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES
Judy Angelo
Volume 1 - Tamed by the Billionaire
Volume 2 - Maid in the USA
Volume 3 - Billionaire's Island Bride
Volume 4 - Dangerous Deception
Volume 5 - To Tame a Tycoon
Volume 6 - Sweet Seduction
Volume 7 - Daddy by December
Volume 8 - To Catch a Man (in 30 Days or Less)
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Mega-Coll. - Vols. 1 - 8
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Coll. I - Vols. 1 - 4
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES, Coll. II - Vols. 5 - 8
Two free stories in the Mega-Collection
One free story in each, Collection I and II
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NOW AVAILABLE - NEW!!
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES
Volume 9 – Bedding Her Billionaire Boss
Volume 10 - Her Indecent Proposal
Volume 11 - So Much Trouble
When She Walked In
Bad Boy Billionaires Coll. III - Vols. 9 - 11
(NB: Not included in the Mega-Collection, Vols. 1 - 8)
The NAUGHTY AND NICE Series
Volume 1 - Naughty by Nature
COMING MAY 25
Volume 12 - Married by Midnight
So Much
TROUBLE
WHEN SHE WALKED IN
TROUBLE TO THE 'NTH DEGREE.
When Maximillian Davidoff meets Silken McCullen little does he know how much trouble will follow in her wake. The woman practically gets him thrown out of an establishment he could have purchased without a thought. And then, as if that weren't bad enough, she bulldozes her way into his life and proceeds to act like she's in charge. He soon finds out that there's a whole lot of woman packed into that petite bundle.
Silken McCullen has always had a feisty streak but no matter how she tries to curb her fiery nature it's forever getting her in trouble. When she first meets Maximillian Davidoff it is under less than ideal circumstances...particularly because her temper clouds her judgment and she ends up cursing him out. It is only after she has given him a good piece of her mind that she finds out that he is innocent of her charges. Now it falls on her to track him down and apologize. But apologies come hard for Silken and, before you know it, she's in a new kind of trouble with Max...but this time it's oh, so sweet.
With Silken McCullen, trouble is always just around the corner.
CHAPTER ONE
Damn, she looks good. Max took a sip of mineral water as he stared across the room at the dark-haired beauty as she practically bounced her way to the bar. Petite and slender, she wore a white polo shirt and tennis skirt that exposed legs that were tanned and toned. She looked so full of energy that he couldn’t help but smile. She’d obviously just finished a round of tennis and had been energized by it. He, on the other hand, was brand new to the sports facility in Cupertino and had just finished a work-out in the gym. He’d been lax these past few months and his return to weightlifting had left him drained.
The girl leaned against the counter and gave the bartender a wave and a smile. “Hi, Peter. The usual, please.”
The man, big and burly with a bushy mustache that gave him the air of a rough woodsman, gave her a welcoming smile and a nod. “One bottle of ice-cold spring water, coming right up.”
The girl hopped up onto the barstool and stuck out her hand to grab the bottle of water the bartender sent sailing along the smooth wooden surface.
“On your tab?” he asked, giving her a solicitous look.
“As usual, my man,” she said with a laugh then popped the cap off the bottle and raised it to her lips.
Just then, the door to the back of the bar swung open and a gangly kid with a shock of red hair and glasses walked in. “Yow, Peter. The boss needs you in the office for a sec. I’ll hold the fort till you get back.”
Peter shrugged. “Not much going on out here anyway, not at this time of day.” Then he tilted his chin toward the girl. “Suave’s my only customer. Make sure you take care of her.”
“Sure thing,” the kid gushed as he hurried to position himself behind the bar. He had a twinkle in his eyes and a wide grin that told Max he was more than stricken by the beauty perched on the stool. But he looked seventeen, eighteen max, while she looked like she was in her early twenties, probably twenty-three or twenty-four. Max couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the boy approach her. Good luck with that, kid. She probably won’t even give you the time of day.
To his surprise, the girl – Suave, the bartender had called her – actually engaged in animated conversation with him, not seeming the least bit perturbed that he was checking her out in his bumbling kind of way. From what he could hear of the conversation she had no problem with flattering his teenage ego. He was sure most women who looked like she did would have shooed him away at his first stuttering utterance and at the first sight of his freckle-faced grin. But not this one. She was the epitome of patience, he had to give her that much.
And then another lone customer walked in, a man Max remembered seeing in the weight room, and he plopped himself down on the stool right beside Suave. “Hey, kid, get me a beer.” He jerked his head at the boy, dismissing him, and turned his attention to the girl who kept her head straight and her eyes averted, obviously disconcerted by the nearness of the man who had just arrived.
“So what’s your name, honey?” he asked as he leaned toward her, so close that she jerked back. “Hey, I’m not gonna bite.” The man gave an exaggerated version of a wounded look. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Then he gave her a sugary smile. “I’m Dirk, by the way. I’m new here. Want to show me around?”
Suave’s brows knitted in a frown and she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, then she began to slide off her stool.
“Where’re you going?” The man’s hand shot out and encircled her upper arm.
She gasped. “Let go of me.” She tried to pull away but his grasp must have been too strong because instead of moving farther away she ended up just inches from her tormentor.
With a grunt Max shoved back his chair and got up. Although it was technically none of his business, damned if he was going to sit there and let that jerk harass a defenseless girl.
But before he could move she took matters into her own hands, pulled back her sneakered foot and gave him a swift kick.
“Oww!” The man released her and grabbed his shin with both hands. “What did you do that for?” he shouted but by that time she was off the stool and flying across the room and out the door.
Max expelled his breath but he didn’t sit back down. He stood there, staring at the frowning man until he looked around and caught Max’s narrowed gaze on him. That must have made him real uncomfortable because he gave a grunt, got up o
ff his stool and walked away, not even waiting for the beer the kid was bringing over to him.
Max tightened his lips and shook his head. No matter where you went you couldn’t get away from the bozos. They were like bugs in the woodwork. You thought you had an insect-free environment until one day one of them reared his ugly head.
The kid, looking like he was still scared shitless by the burly bully, drew the mug of beer toward him, dumped it in the sink then stared at the exit through which Suave had disappeared. On his face was a forlorn, little-dog-lost look.
Feeling sorry for the kid, Max strode over and ordered a sports drink then struck up a conversation with him. It was almost funny the way the tension slid from the boy’s face and soon he was busy blabbing about his surfing triumphs.
“Dude, it’s like the best surfing ever.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “You’ve been to Waddell Creek?"
Max shook his head. “Nope. I’m pretty new to California. Just moved here from New York a month ago.”
“You’ve gotta check it out, bro'. It’s like way cool.” He drew in a breath, looking like he was getting ready to give a pretty detailed spiel about the merits of Waddell Creek, when the big bartender walked back in.
“You’re good to go, Red. The locker rooms ain’t gonna clean themselves.”
A flash of disappointment crossed his face. “Aaw. I was just going to tell this dude about the time I killed a crazy wave over at Waddell Creek.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Peter waved a beefy hand at him. “Now stop harassing the customer and get going.”
The kid heaved a sigh then dropped the dishcloth in the sink and headed out the back. He hadn’t so much as given Max a nod as a sign of courtesy at his departure. Yeah, well. Kids.
The bartender pretty much ignored Max, busying himself with tidying up behind the counter, so he turned his back to the bar and raised the last of the Gatorade to his lips. He was quaffing it down when a pretty picture caught his eye.
It was the woman, Suave, who had left just minutes earlier. She’d just burst in through the door and this time she looked hopping mad.
“You.” Her dark eyes flashed with a blazing fire that hadn’t been there the first time he'd seen her. “You’re the jerk who goes around harassing helpless women, are you? Well, Mr. Big, Bold and Bad, let’s see how you handle me for a change.”
Max froze, his hand in the air, the bottle still to his lips. Then he frowned and slowly lowered his drink to the counter. The woman was staring straight at him and she was livid.
He stared at her. Had she mistaken him for her tormentor? They were both dark-haired, heavily muscled and wearing white T-shirts, but they looked nothing alike. How could she mistake him for the jerk?
“Yeah, so what’ve you got to say now, buster? Cat got your tongue?” Looking like she had not even one ounce of fear, the woman walked right up to him and jammed her fists on her hips.
Now this was taking things way too far. What kind of game was this woman playing, pretending like he’d done her wrong? She was either seriously nearsighted or freakin’ crazy. “Listen, lady,” he began. He got no further.
“No, you listen. When you feel like it makes you a man to grab a woman and manhandle her then you’ve crossed the line, buddy.” She thrust her face forward, close enough for him to see the flecks of gold in her eyes. “Do you know I could have you charged for assault?”
“Hey, hold on there now.” Peter, his face turning a dark shade of red, planted his brawny hands on the counter and scowled at Max. “Was this guy harassing you?”
“He was harassing Suave. He literally grabbed her, the brute. I saw the marks on her arm.”
Harassing Suave. Grabbed her? Why was the woman referring to herself in the third person? This was getting weirder by the minute. But, weird or not, it was time to put a stop to this drama. “Lady, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. There was a guy here before, he was the one who was messing with you-”
The bartender slammed his palm down on the counter, the sound splitting the air like the crack of a whip. “You come in here and mess with one of my customers? My regular?” His nostrils flared as he sucked in his breath, the blood rising in his face. “Listen, guy, I don’t know who you are or where you come from but this is a respectable establishment and we don’t stand for that crap. Now you either leave right now or I throw you out. Take your pick.” The big man balled his massive hands into fists like sledge hammers and began to lift the hinged counter so he could exit the bar.
As big as Max was – six feet tall and well-muscled – the man was way bigger, at least six foot three and about three hundred pounds. The burly bartender would have his ass for breakfast in any fistfight but Max was not going to turn tail and run off like some girl. He was not backing down.
Sliding off the stool, he stood up to face the giant. He might have little more than a snowball’s chance in hell of winning but he wasn’t going down without a heck of a fight.
The big man was in front of him now. He lifted his hands and cracked his knuckles. “You’d better apologize to the lady,” he said, not even bothering to mask the threat of bodily harm.
“What the hell for? I didn’t do a damn thing to her. She’s mixing me up with someone else.” Max swung his eyes back to the woman and now her arms were folded across her chest and her mouth was buttoned tight and mutinous. It looked like she was determined to see him go down…even though she was one hundred percent wrong.
The first time he’d seen her he’d thought she was a sweet girl but now he realized she was nothing but trouble…with a good dose of crazy thrown in.
The bartender shifted like he was ready to make a move. Max swung round to face him, ready to slam him in the gut.
“Wait.” The woman inserted herself between them, forcing them to back off. “You can let him off easy this time, Peter. I don’t think he’ll be messing with women around here anymore.”
“Now, you listen-”
“No, you listen,” Peter, growled, his tone menacing. “The lady said to leave and I suggest you do that. I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face of yours.”
Max scowled and his hands tightened into rock-like fists. He didn’t take kindly to being threatened. And then he glanced from the man to the woman glaring at him and he saw that they were resolute. There was no convincing either of them that he wasn’t the guilty party.
Fuck it. He wasn’t going to stand here arguing with these two, trying to plead his case. If they didn’t want to believe him, that was their problem.
His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile as he looked them over. Lucky for them he was a private person who kept his identity under wraps. But he could still mess them up. One phone call and the entire sports complex would be his, lock, stock and barrel. Then he would have the bartender’s ass. And the girl? Well, she’d just have to play tennis somewhere else.
But he wouldn’t go there.
Without a word Max gave them one last look, turned and sauntered out the door.
***
“You did what?” Suave’s eyes grew wide as she stared at her sister.
“I went in there and told him off.” Silken shrugged then plopped down on the locker room bench and began to untie her sneakers.
“But I didn’t ask you to do that.” Suave’s voice rose sharply, as it always did when she got upset with Silken. Which was pretty often. “I told you what happened in there and I said I handled it. Didn’t I?” When Silken ignored her she marched over to stand directly in front of her. “Didn’t I?”
Both sneakers now off, Silken looked up. “Yeah, but we both know how you are. You probably gave the guy a pat and said,” she pursed her lips in her best impression of a school marm, “'now be a good boy and don’t do that again'.”
Suave glared at her, her face indignant. “I did not. I was very firm. And I don’t need you fighting my battles for me. You have to stop doing that.”
“I'm your big sis. What do you expect?”
“Will you stop saying that? You’re just one minute older than I am so that doesn’t count and you know it.” Suave’s eyes flashed and she looked just about ready to stomp her foot, which was about as mad as she ever got.
Silken wanted to laugh but she held it in. She loved teasing her little sis about who was older and she never failed to get a rise out of her sibling. She had to stop doing this.
Yeah, maybe when they were sixty.
“I can just imagine how you embarrassed the poor man in front of everybody.”
Silken sucked in her breath. “Oh, no, you didn’t. You did not just start feeling sorry for the man who was sexually harassing you at the bar.”
“Well, no…” The pink flush of guilt rose in Suave’s cheeks. “It’s just that sometimes you can be so harsh.”
“Harsh? Didn’t the guy deserve it?” Silken hopped up off the bench and reached out to rest her hand on Suave’s arm. “You see? This is why you need me, sis. People will walk all over you if I’m not around. You’re just too nice.”
Suave shook her off. “I don’t need you fighting for me all the time. I’m sick of it.” And then she proceeded to pout and refused to say another word.
Silken stared at her then shook her head. Typical Suave. Spoiled brat.
But as they changed into street clothes Silken had to admit that if Suave was spoiled, it was her fault.
They were the offspring of a teenage mother who had asked that the State take custody and give them up for adoption. But, for some reason, it never happened. They’d grown up in the foster care system, moving from home to home, until they gained their freedom at the age of eighteen. And all those years it had been Silken who’d taken charge, beating down any bully who so much as sniffed at her little sister.