Hot Tycoons Boxset: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

by Emelia Blair

  “Come on, man. I just came in from work. I know you have some chicken curry in the fridge. I can smell it!”

  And just like that, the tense mood evaporates.

  “Don’t touch the curry,” I growl. “Grams sent it over.” Ian’s eyes widen.

  “Just a little bit? I’ve not even had lunch.” Fergus puts an arm around him.

  “Don’t let this unappreciative asshole get to you. I’ll feed you.” I immediately clap my hands over Charlotte’s ears, startling her.

  “Language, dickheads. Not in front of my wife.” As Charlotte peels my hands away, Zayn tucks his tongue into his cheek.

  “I have a feeling that Charlotte can curse much better than any of us.” I glance down at my wife, affronted.

  “No, she—” Charlotte just smiles at me, apparently in agreement with Zayn.

  “I did live on the streets for a long time.”

  I shake my head.

  “Get out all of you.”

  “It’s basic hospitality. Where did we go wrong with him?” Ian shakes his head, disappointed.

  “I don’t know, man. It keeps me up at night.” Fergus wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. Zayn rolls his eyes, but grins at the antics of our friends.

  “Come on. I have to meet a client in an hour. Wrap this up.”

  Chuckling, I close the door after them, and turn around to see Charlotte looking a little awestruck.

  “Were they always like this? They went from serious to joking in a heartbeat.”

  I tuck her under my arm and make our way to the bedroom.

  “We’ve all been through enough shit to know that too much darkness isn’t good for any of us.”

  I strip off my clothes, and it amuses me to see her blush and turn her back. However, I am equally tired today, so I don’t tease her much, just wink in the mirror facing her.

  The hot shower sooths my muscles, and I empty my mind. We have problems to handle, but they can be faced tomorrow.

  My shower is quick, because I am eager to get to Charlotte, who is waiting for me in our bed.

  Our bed.

  I like the sound of that.

  I like the idea of seeing Charlotte’s face first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I don’t mind the idea of being tied to her.

  I have never brought a woman to my apartment, and it surprises me how Charlotte just seems to seamlessly belong in here, and in my bed.

  Although these past few weeks have been full of tension, having her around almost seems to be the only normal thing.

  Patting myself dry, I pull on a pair of boxers and look hesitantly at the pajamas. Before today, I have been wearing them to bed. But a lot of things changed today.

  This could be one of them.

  I usually don’t sleep with clothes on, but I didn’t want to drive Charlotte away. It is easier for her to sleep in my bed, knowing that I am partially clothed.

  Easier to get her used to losing one article of clothing at a time.

  I walk out and I am surprised to see her curled up in the center of the bed, looking at a book that Agatha forgot from one of her visits.

  I sit down next to her and she doesn’t even look at me, just skimming through the book, “I wanted to read this one. The local library didn’t have it.”

  I watch her form as she lays on her stomach, taking over the whole bed and I wonder when she became so comfortable in my bed, and when she started stealing my shirts to wear at night.

  I glance at the bags in the corner. Some of them hold some very comfortable night dresses; comfortable and sexy. However, right now, as she lay on her stomach, the uncuffed sleeves of my button up shirt reaching past the edge of her fingers, she has never looked sexier.

  But she is talking about herself right now, offering me an insight into what she likes. And that is more important to me.

  “You like these kinds of books?” I ask.

  “Hmm,” she hums as she jumps to the middle of the book. “It’s fantasy. Easier to lose yourself in a world that you know doesn’t exist. Plus, this writer is really good.”

  “I’ll buy you the entire series.” She looks up at me, frowning.

  “You know, every time I tell you that I like something, it isn’t an invitation for you to buy it for me.”

  “But I want to,” I tell her with a cheeky grin. She closes the book with a snap.

  “But I don’t want you to.”

  I scoff, rolling her over to her side of the bed.

  “That’s just a matter of opinion.”

  “Yeah, mine!” She smacks my thigh with the book, scowling. I snatch the book away from her and put it on the nightstand.

  “Come on, give me a kiss.”

  “No.” She turns away, sulking.

  “Just one,” I wheedle.

  When she offers me stony silence, I can’t help but grin. Then, I switch to bribery.

  “I’ll give you the book back.”

  That gets her attention.

  She turns over to eye me warily, and I quickly snuck past her defenses and claim a quick kiss, making her bat at me, indignantly, as I laugh.

  “You can’t do that! Gimme the book!” She is clambering over me, trying to reach out for the book, and I push it out of reach, grinning at her. She ends up half on my chest, a scowl on her pretty face. “I hate you.”

  “Now, now, darling. Hate is just another form of love.”

  She smacks me in the chest, and I put my arms around her, kissing her on the forehead. Her form relaxes against mine.

  “You’ll give me the book tomorrow.”

  “I’ll buy you the entire series in hardcover if you want,” I promise. “But for now, we both need to sleep. It’s been a shitty day.” She yawns, and buries her face in my chest.

  “It wasn’t all that bad.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Just the last part of the day.” I smile tenderly at her, agreeing.

  “Hmm.” I could feel her drifting off. “I feel safe when I’m with you.” Her words are a sleepy mumble, something she might not have intended to say to me, but just came out.

  I kiss her forehead.

  “You’re going to be okay, Charlotte. Nobody will be able to get past me. And if they do, there are still those three fools to bypass. You’re as safe as you can get.”

  My words make her sigh, and within minutes her tired form curled up around mine and she is out like a light.

  14

  Charlotte

  I stare at the book, feeling the words jumping over my head. I look up in frustration.

  My class is in two days and I still haven’t managed to finish these two chapters. Since I had to skip last week, I am already behind.

  Where is Philip when I need him?

  Hearing the buzzer, I glance up, a little worried.

  Should I answer the door?

  Philip has gone to drop his grandmother off at the airport. He won’t be back for another hour.

  Grams dropped by this morning with her bags. I have been delighted to see her, and so has she, but she had been in a hurry because she had to hurry back to her son’s side, who had left the hospital to join his cruise.

  Now, she had to go threaten him back into the hospital so that he could recover properly.

  I was sad at seeing her leave after such a brief meeting, but Philip insisted that I stay home and that he would drop her off at the airport. I got what he was saying. Me, out in the open, with some sort of weird target painted on my back, isn’t a very smart idea.

  However, I am not expecting any visitors.

  I make my way to the door and glance at the image on the screen, and tense. It is the detective that had been with John, the other day.

  Why is he here?

  I wonder if I can ask one of the security men standing outside to accompany me.

  I open the door and stare at the two men who stand in the hall and blink at them. They look at me warily.

  “Uh, there’s a detective downstairs. I don’t want to be alone wit
h him when he comes up. Could one of you stay in the room with me when he’s here?”

  The bigger, bulkier-looking guy stiffens.

  “He can come back later. You can wait for Mr. McCoy.”

  I wince.

  “I might have already buzzed him up.”

  The man raises a brow, and then shares a look with his colleague before taking a step forward.

  “I’ll do it.”

  I nod, grateful, and just then the elevator dinged and the doors open, revealing the gray-haired detective. He has a bag in his hand and looks surprised to see my head peeking out from the door.

  “Mrs. McCoy. Uh, were you waiting for me?” He sounds confused and sheepish.

  “Not at all. I was talking to—” I glanced at the bodyguard, feeling guilty for not knowing his name.

  “Tim.” He must have seen the guilt on my face because he grins.

  “—Tim. I was talking to Tim, here. About cookies.” All three men turn to stare at me, and I keep my expression resolute.

  If you speak a lie, you had to stick to it. No matter how stupid it sounds.

  “Cookies, Mrs. McCoy?” Clarence looks so bewildered that I actually feel sorry for him.

  I run a hand through my messy hair.

  “Yeah. I wanted to make some.” That answer just raises more confused questions. However, to my relief, nobody pursues this line of questioning.

  “Is Mr. McCoy home?” Clarence asks. I shake my head.

  “He just stepped out.”

  “Oh, I thought I could ask him about the people on the tape.” The detective looks disappointed.

  “The tape?” I ask.

  He lifts the bag that is dangling from his hand.

  “Yeah. He got the man who was following you and the tapes from the restaurant that you visited, delivered to me three days ago. I couldn’t find anything of use in it, though. And the man is even worse. He lawyered up. So, we can’t question him.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  I don’t feel all that bad because I know that Philip’s people managed to extract some information from that man and that Zayn found the video more than useful.

  Clarence staggers, and I take a step forward, alarmed.

  “Are you okay, Detective?”

  He uses the wall to steady himself.

  “Sorry. I didn’t get time to eat, today. My blood sugar must be dropping.”

  My eyes widen.

  “I’ll fix you something. Please come in.”

  “What are you doing, Mrs. McCoy?” Tim frowns at me. His words are a hiss, and I give him a helpless look.

  “I can’t let him leave like that. He looks terrible. Besides,” I pat his huge forearm, “You’ll be right there.”

  Tim looks uneasy, as does the other guy, but he nods.

  “I don’t want to cause inconvenience for you, Mrs. McCoy. Maybe just something sweet to sustain me. I’ll get a hotdog on the way back to the station though,” Clarence runs his hand over his forehead, looking exhausted.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I have some ham fixings inside. I’ll make a you a sandwich. I also might have some muffins.”

  I let him inside and Tim follows us, closing the door behind him.

  I settle Clarence at the kitchen counter and quickly throw together a sandwich and heat two muffins. One I offer to Tim, who takes it hesitantly, as if it is a live snake.

  Clarence glances at the book that is on the counter. He sounds impressed.

  “Woodworth College? Are you studying there?” I nod.

  “Night classes. I have one in two days. I’m just trying to catch up to the class.”

  “My nephew goes there,” Clarence says with some pride. “It’s a tough school to get into. You must be very smart.” I feel a little awkward under the praise.

  “Well, their night classes don’t have that high eligibility criteria. Probably that’s how I manage to get in.” I place the sandwich in front of him, and watch him tear into it, ravenously.

  “He also takes the night classes. His name’s Felix. You must know him.” I shake my head.

  “I take the later one. He must be in the evening class.” Clarence blinks.

  “There’s a difference?” I smile at how adorable this man is, the sort of bumbling cop, who is a little sweet on everybody.

  “Mine starts at eight. His ends at eight.”

  “Oh,” Clarence makes a sound of understanding. “You kids sure have it hard.” I grin.

  “It’s not that bad. I like the classes. The material is tough, but the teachers are very adept at their subjects.” Clarence glances at his watch and sighs.

  “That’s all the time I have. I have to get back to the station. Can I wrap the rest of this up?” He looks at me hopefully, and I smile.

  “Yeah, I’ll pack it for you.”

  I quickly pack the remaining piece of the sandwich and another muffin for him, and hand him the paper bag. He looks grateful and then gestures at the bag as he leaves.

  “Tell your husband the tapes are in this. I hoped to meet him, but maybe some other time.”

  I walk him out, Tim trailing after us. At the door, Clarence turns around and fidgets, a little nervous.

  “I wanted to apologize for John’s behavior the other day. He’s been given a paid leave of absence when he insisted on remaining on this case and made a fuss. He’s a good cop, just a little over enthusiastic.”

  I watch him leave and then see the other bodyguard staring at Tim as he eats his muffin. Then the man looks at me.

  “I’m Jim.” I tuck my tongue into my cheek.

  “I’ll get you a muffin, Jim.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come on, Charlotte.” I am laying on the bed on my stomach, my Valuation book open in front of me, a highlighter in my hand as I make notes. I give him a look.

  “I have to study.”

  Philip has come home later than I expected. When I told him about Clarence’s visit, he had called up the detective, but that was it. He didn’t seem to be in the mood to work on the piles of documents that I knew needed his attention.

  No. He wants to watch a movie with me and rest on the couch.

  Unfortunately, I have this entire chapter to get done, and his persistence isn’t helping me concentrate, especially when he keeps making kissing sounds to annoy me.

  Also, a part of me really wants to go along with his plans, but I am trying my best to suppress it.

  “Don’t you have work to do or something?”

  Philip looks up from where he sits on the sofa, a few feet away, a soft ball in his hands that he has been tossing up in the air and catching.

  I regret buying the ball for him at the flea market. He became so attached to it that it almost makes me jealous.

  “Am I distracting you?” He grins in a way that makes me instantly wary. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “As if you could.” I know what I am doing. I am inviting trouble, but I can’t help it. A part of me waits with bated breath, wondering how he will react to my indirect insult.

  “Really?” He raises a brow. “So, you think I can’t distract you?” I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the book lying in front of me.

  “Well, I’m talking to you right now. That’s as distracting as you get. Now, leave me alone.”

  I feel the bed move a second later, accompanied by his silky voice.

  “That sounded like a challenge, Mrs. McCoy.” I frown over my shoulder.

  “It really wasn’t.” I feel his hand on my calf as he caresses my leg.

  “How about this? If I manage to distract you in under ten minutes, you’ll watch the movie with me?” I narrow my eyes, just for show really, because I already know that his skilled hands could drive me insane within seconds, let alone minutes.

  However, I am not going to give in without putting up a fight.

  “Fine,” I turn my head back to the book, “Don’t put me to sleep, though.” I hear him make an indignant sound, and hide my smirk.r />
  However, he doesn’t do much, just moves his hand up and down my exposed calf.

  I am wearing loose shorts and a huge T shirt, because getting seduced hadn’t been on the agenda for today. I have been more focused on getting some studying done.

  When he doesn’t do anything except flirt with my calf, I feel disappointed, and just return my attention to the book.

  “What are you reading?” I hear him ask, and I shrug.

  “Something about how dividends are both a curse and a blessing to companies.” His hand settles on my thigh as he leans forward to take a quick glance.

  “That sounds interesting. Why don’t you read it out loud?”

  I don’t mind, so I start reading out the text to him. For some reason, reading it aloud makes it easier for me to understand, so all my focus is there when he starts creeping his hand up my thigh.

  My voice remains steady as his hand settles on my ass. He squeezes the soft flesh, and I settle into the sheets, not knowing how he is going to proceed from there.

  As my voice drones on, I feel him tug at my shorts, until they are drawn off my hips and tossed to a corner of the room.

  Unable to help myself, I glance at him, and he raises a brow when he meets my gaze.

  “Keep reading. If you stop, I’ll assume you’ve given up.” I immediately turn back to the book.

  But my attention is on the way he keeps using his hands to mold my ass cheeks, and I wonder why he was giving them so much attention. I soon find out, when I feel him strike one cheek, not too harshly, but enough to make the skin there turn red.

  I cry out in startled pain, and his voice is sharp when he says, “Keep reading.”

  The command in his voice makes me shiver, and I slowly pick up where I had left off.

  He strikes my other cheek and my voice quivers.

  They aren’t hard strikes, just a tinge of pain that makes me shudder. Then he uses his hands to forcibly part my legs until I am completely exposed to him.

  I bite my lower lip as I feel the air brush against my pussy.

  His weight leaves the bed, and just as quickly, he returns. Hearing the clink of ice in his glass, I wonder what he is up to.