by Swan, T L
I fake a smile as I try to remember this woman. Nope, I’ve got nothing. “Yes, I remember,” I lie. “How have you been?”
She beams instantly. “Great, although I do have a problem.”
“What’s that?” I frown.
“The plumbing in my room seems to have an issue.”
“Really?” I smirk. There are hotel rooms at this resort and she’s obviously staying here.
“Really. I was wondering if you could come up and have a look at it after the wedding finishes.”
I chuckle. Wow. That’s the oldest trick in the book. “I am very good at unblocking pipes,” I tease.
“I imagine you are.” She giggles on cue and passes me a key. “Room 282.” She smirks.
I smile down at her and stuff the key into my pocket. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to see someone.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.” She grins.
Good grief.
I walk around the dancefloor with my eyes glued to the woman in the pink dress. She’s petite and curvy with the most perfect face I have ever seen. She’s now talking to two men, with one on either side of her. One is older, while the other is close to my age. I sip my beer as I watch her move.
Hmm, she’s fucking gorgeous and innately feminine.
She’s also very different than my usual taste in women. She has a gentle air about her. I roll my lips as I watch her, and Brendan, an old school friend of mine, comes to stand next to me.
“Hey, Spence.” He slaps me on the back.
“Who is that woman?” I ask, completely distracted.
He frowns. “Which one?”
“Pink dress. Charlotte.”
His eyes widen, and he chuckles. “Stay away from that one, old boy. She’s out of your league.”
I smirk as my eyes stay glued to her. “And why would you say that?”
“Every man in the county is after her and she won’t give any of them the time of day.”
I feel my skin prickle at the challenge. “Really?”
“Yes. And then you have to get past her father and brothers even if she is interested at all.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“That’s her father on the right. If I stand correct, he is the third wealthiest man in the country. He owns casinos around the world and has connections everywhere. On the left of her is her older brother Edward. Complete and utter bastard that one.”
I narrow my eyes as I watch him. “What does Edward do for a coin?”
“Guard Charlotte, from what I hear. He doesn’t let her out of his sight. It’s a full-time fucking job.”
I raise my glass to him in a silent toast.
He shakes his head. “Not her, Spencer. She really is off-limits. Way too pure for you.”
Excitement rolls over me. “The thrill of the chase is alive and well, my friend.”
He chuckles. “Or simply a death wish. You fuck around with her and her father will murder you without a second thought.”
I smile as I turn to watch Charlotte talk to the two men. “Challenge accepted, old boy.”
He laughs into his beer and shakes his head. “Next time I see you, it may be your funeral.”
My eyes dance with delight. “Give me a good wrap in the eulogy, hey? I’m sure it will be worth it.”
He chuckles, and with a shake of his head, he disappears through the crowd.
I stand on my own watching her. She is the most beautiful thing I have seen in a very long time. At once, she glances up and her eyes fall on me, holding my gaze. I smile and raise my beer to her in a silent toast. She immediately looks away and fidgets with her hands in front of her.
I smile to myself as I watch her.
Run along, boys.
I want her alone.
Charlotte
Mr Spencer smiles sexily and raises his glass in my direction. I bite my bottom lip nervously. Is he really doing that to me? He’s standing alone in the crowd, a beer in one hand, his other hand tucked away in his expensive suit pocket. I snap my eyes away as my stomach flips with excitement.
Stop it! He’s probably not even aiming it at me.
“Charlotte, I have someone I want you to meet,” my father says.
“Dad, not now. I don’t want to meet any of your boring friends.” I sigh.
He rolls his eyes, and I glance back over at Mr Spencer still staring at me. I glance back up to my father. “What is it?” I ask with a huff.
“His name is Evan. I know his family, and he happens to be a lawyer.”
I cringe. “Father, please,” I moan. “Stop. I’m not dating one of your boring friend’s sons.”
My brother Edward looks at my father and scowls. “Yes, please stop. The thought makes me murderous.”
I roll my eyes at my overbearing brother. “You, too.”
My father and Edward fall into conversation, leaving me to glance back over at Mr Spencer. As soon as our eyes connect, he crooks his finger and gestures for me to go to him.
Me?
I frown, look around, and point to my chest.
He nods with a sexy smile. I look around, instantly filled with some kind of guilt, and I subtly shake my head.
Oh my God. My stomach flips over.
He crooks his finger again, and I find myself biting my bottom lip and dropping my head to hide my smile.
“Would you like a drink, Charlotte?” my brother asks.
“Please.” I smile as I concentrate on not looking Mr Spencer’s way again.
My father falls into conversation with a man who walks past, and I glance around nervously. I’m not sure whether to go and talk to Mr Spencer or not. No, that’s a bad idea. Perhaps I’ll go and get some fresh air instead.
“I’m heading to the ladies,” I whisper to my father.
“All right, love.” He smiles as I put my hand on his shoulder. I walk through the ballroom and out onto the back terrace and down the steps. Fairy lights are strewn across the garden giving it a romantic feel. Waiters are circling the garden with trays of fancy cocktails and champagne. This wedding has been amazing, and the attention to detail has been impeccable. Every detail is perfect. I walk along the pathway down to the outdoor bathrooms. Once there, I head inside and close the door behind me.
Peace at last.
I can hear the music in the distance as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and reapply my fuchsia lipstick. My thick shoulder-length blonde hair is down and pulled back on one side behind my ear. My pink strapless dress fits perfectly and clings to my curves. I roll my lips as I stare at my reflection. Eventually, I exhale heavily and snap my lipstick back into my silver clutch.
Most eligible bachelor in London, an appalling rake.
Great. The first man I’ve been attracted to in forever and he’s a womaniser. Typical.
For once, I would like to meet an honourable man who is actually appealing.
Why does it have to be one or the other? Who made this god forsaken rule that any man who is a tad interesting must be a player? And why are all the good men as boring as hell? God must definitely be a man.
With one last look at myself, I head back out into the garden and make my way up the path towards the party.
“Charlotte,” a deep voice calls from behind me.
I turn and falter, taken aback. It’s him.
It’s Mr Spencer.
He smiles sexily and his eyes hold mine. “Hello.”
My heart rate spikes. “H-hi.” I smile nervously.
He steps towards me and takes my hand in his, and I inhale sharply. He holds my hand up in the air and nods, as if bowing. “Forgive me for following you, but I had to come and meet the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.” He kisses the back of my hand tenderly, and I raise my brows. “My name is Spencer.” He smiles against my skin.
Oh, he’s really quite…
I pull my hand away sharply. “I know who you are, Mr Spencer.”
He smirks, and his mischievous eyes hold mine. “You do?
” he asks smoothly with a raise of his brow.
I clasp my hands nervously in front of me. “Your reputation precedes you.”
His smirk breaks out into a broad smile. “Ah, you can’t believe everything you hear, now, can you?”
His voice is deep and permeating. It somehow sinks into my bones when he speaks.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask. What the hell does he want?
“I hope so.” He smiles and picks up my hand again. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”
I swallow nervously, and he smiles and drops his lips to the back of my hand to kiss me softly. His sexy eyes stay fixed on mine.
Okay, hell… he’s good. Really good.
“I…” I stop talking because I really can’t concentrate when he’s touching me.
He’s so forward.
“Charlotte?” he repeats, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I shake my head in a fluster. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He turns my hand over to gently kiss the inside of my wrist. I feel his touch deep inside my stomach.
“Why not?” He gently licks my wrist and my knees nearly buckle out from underneath me.
Oh, for the love of God!
“My father and brother…” I frown as my voice trails off. How in the hell am I supposed to string two words together when he’s doing that to me?
He steps forward and takes me into his arms. “We’ll dance here then.”
What?
He pulls me close to him, takes one of my hands in his, and he smiles down at me as he begins to sway to the music. “You’re a wonderful dancer, Lady Charlotte.” He smiles mischievously.
I smirk at his sheer audacity. “Does this routine work on every woman you meet?”
He smiles his first genuine smile and I feel the effects of it hit me deep in my stomach. “Please don’t talk about other women. I’m in the courting zone, concentrating on you and only you.” He spins me around, and we both chuckle at his ridiculousness.
He lets me go and holds one hand up, and then he spins me in his arms and pulls me back to his body with force until we come face to face.
I stare up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “I have to go,” I whisper.
“Why?” His intoxicating breath washes over my face.
“My father will be looking for me.”
“How old are you, Lady Charlotte?”
“Too young for you, Mr Spencer.”
He smiles softly. “I have no doubt.” He bends down and softly kisses my lips.
My chest constricts.
He kisses me again, soft and tenderly, hovering his lips over mine. Unable to help it, I smile, and that’s when he kisses me again but this time more urgently, his arms curling around my waist and bringing me to his body.
I’ve never been kissed like this.
His tongue sweeps through my open mouth and our tongues dance together.
For three whole minutes, I drink him in as we kiss like teenagers.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte,” he gasps as he kisses me again.
I lose control and my hands go to his hair, and then I feel something hard up against my stomach.
Is that…?
I instantly pull out of the kiss and step back, panting for breath.
He reaches for me again, but I step back farther. “Don’t touch me!” I whisper sharply, holding my hand up in defence.
“What? Why?”
I shake my head. “I’m not the kind of girl you are used to, Mr Spencer.”
As if confused he shakes his head as if at a loss. “And what kind of girl is that?”
“I’m not one of those high society sluts. Y-you should go back inside and find someone else to… entertain you,” I stammer.
“I never said you were and I don’t want anyone else!” he snaps. “If I overstepped the line, I apologise. I never… I mean…”
He’s tripping over his words as he tries to right the situation.
I step back again, creating more distance. “You stepped over the line… by a lot.” I glance up and I can see my father is out on the terrace looking for me. “I have to go.” I brush past Mr Spencer, walk up the path and up the stairs. My father smiles the second he sees me.
“Are you ready to leave, Charlotte?”
“Please,” I say quietly. My eyes fall back down to the garden where Mr Spencer stands.
My father puts his arm around me and we walk around to the front of the house to get into the back of his Bentley. His driver shuts the door and I peer out just in time to see Mr Spencer appearing from the shadows next to the house, watching me leave.
He smiles softly and blows me a kiss, and I drop my head at once, gripping my clutch on my lap.
“That was a great night, wasn’t it?” My father smiles as the car slowly pulls out.
“It was.” I force a smile. My fingertips rise to brush my lips which still tingle from Mr Spencer’s touch. I smile to myself softly.
No wonder he’s the most eligible bachelor in London.
He’s perfect.
And he’s trouble.
2
Charlotte
The car enters the grounds of my father’s estate. We ride down the driveway, past his expansive sandstone castle. We continue along to the lane that leads to my house on the property. The grounds are manicured to perfection. As usual, the security staff walk the perimeters morning, noon, and night. My two brothers and I each have houses on this property, including our own roads in, but we always use my father’s driveway if we are with him. I smile at the thought. Dad couldn’t possibly use another entrance to his house. He has to drive through the huge fancy gates to feel at home.
I love it here. My father’s staff are beautiful, and I always feel safe. Although I do worry about dad living here all alone. He’s never recovered since my mother died. She was the love of his life. He had to fight hard for the right to love her, too. She was his childhood housekeeper’s daughter. Our money is old money, passed down from generation to generation. Our social reputation is deeply ingrained into all of us. When he fell in love with the hired help’s daughter, it didn’t go down well. It seems like so much has changed since back then…. And at the same time, like nothing has changed at all. I wouldn’t be allowed to fall in love with the hired help either, and all hell would break loose if I so much as tried.
The moonlight reflects off the white pebbles on the drive, and a wave of sadness rolls over me as I look around at the grand grounds. Money doesn’t buy happiness. We would all hand over every penny we have in an instant if it meant we got to see our mother again.
I look out of the window with a frown and, as if sensing my thoughts, my father reaches over and takes my hand.
“Everything all right?” he asks quietly.
I smile at him, banishing my sad thoughts. “Of course. I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“What’s on tomorrow, dear?”
“Nothing. Gardening with Elouise.”
“You don’t have to help with the gardening, you know.”
“I know.” I kiss the back of his hand tenderly. “I like to garden, you know that, and if I get to spend the day with Elouise then all the better for me.”
He smiles and looks out of the window, somewhat bemused. It’s funny because I spend more time with the staff here than I do with anyone else. Most of them have been with my father since I was a child. Elouise is an older lady and our resident horticulturist. She’s gentle, sweet, and I adore her. She lives in the village and has worked for us for about two years, forever a dear friend.
The car rolls to a stop outside my house, and I lean over and kiss my father as Wyatt opens my car door.
“Hello.” Wyatt smiles and takes my hand to help me out of the car. He’s clearly been waiting for my arrival, as he didn’t come to the wedding.
“Hello, Wyatt.” I smile in return, placing a hand on his chest before I walk past him and into the house.
; “How was your evening?”
“Wonderful, thank you. How was yours?”
“Quite dull.”
I smile as I walk. Wyatt is in his mid-thirties, and he’s my bodyguard. He usually comes with me everywhere I go. Six years ago, when my father’s company began buying casinos, our world changed overnight. Suddenly, the people he did business with weren’t always as reputable as we were. We needed protection from the unknown, and that’s when we were each given bodyguards who were to follow our every move.
My mother didn’t have one with her on the day of her death and I know my father has always questioned that if she had had one, would the car accident have happened? Would she still be here with us?
I used to hate the security but I’m used to it now, and at least Wyatt isn’t as obtrusive as my father’s security team. They’re hardcore. I couldn’t deal with them at all.
Glancing back, I see three of them in the car behind us. They go everywhere he goes and none of them will ever make eye contact with me. I know it’s because my brother has warned them with their lives if one of them come near me.
Wyatt is different, though. He’s trusted with me. We’ve also become friends. Not besties or anything as he keeps it very professional at all times, but I definitely rely on him more than I expected to.
I give my father a small wave goodbye, and then I walk up the path towards my house as the car pulls away slowly and heads back to the main house.
“Good night, Charlotte,” Wyatt calls from the end of the driveway.
“Goodnight, Wyatt. Thank you.”
After I shut the door behind me, I turn to put my bag down on the hall table, and I pick up the remote control to turn the television on. I head straight to the kitchen and flick on the kettle. I have a set routine whenever I walk into my house: television, kettle, and tea. It’s like the world isn’t right if one of those things doesn’t happen immediately. Dead silence doesn’t feel right to me. The funny thing is that I don’t even watch the TV after I’ve put it on. I simply like the distant background noise it provides.
I grab my laptop and sit at my kitchen counter.
Who are you, Mr Spencer?
I type his name into Google, immediately frowning.