Mr. Knightsbridge (The Mister 1)

So that was the problem. She felt unprepared and out of control. Well, I could fix that. I picked up my keys and stood. “Where are you?”

“In my sitting room, why?”

“I’m coming over and we’re going to prep,” I said as I pulled open my office door and headed out the way I’d just come a few minutes ago.

“Prep?” she asked.

“I bet you were one of those girls who did nothing but study at university. And you probably mocked up some kind of design for my Mayfair building before you came to see me to offer me the deal. Am I right?”

“Erm, that’s why you go to university. To study.”

“Wrong.” I bounded down the stairs two at a time. “Most people go to university to party. But okay, you’re a studier. A planner. I can work with that. We just need to study and plan for this wedding. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

“No! You can’t just come over—I’m in my PJs.”

“That’s good. I need to learn how long it takes for you to have a shower and get ready. It will all help.”

“Help what?”

I pushed open the glass doors to the outside and pressed on my car fob. “I told you that the key to telling lies was to stick as closely to the truth as possible. We’re going to get to know each other. That way, when we get to Scotland, you won’t need to lie, and neither will I. We’ll both have plenty to say that’s the truth.” I slid into the driver’s seat of my sports car that I only used on weekends and started the engine. I’d had it over a year and every time I got behind the wheel, the car still made me grin like a beautiful woman laid out on my bed in nothing but underwear.

“That’s a terrible idea. We have two weeks. We can’t pack a serious relationship into a day.”

“So it might take two,” I said, pulling out and heading in the direction of Stella’s flat. If I could keep her talking, I’d be there before she could make any rash decisions.

“You can’t just assume that I have two days to spend studying with you. I have things to do. Places to go. People to see.”

“Right. And we can study at the same time. It will be good for me to tag along with you. I can see what you get up to. Learn your quirks—”

“I don’t have quirks.”

I grinned and imagined her little frown and pursed lips. “We all have quirks. That’s what makes us interesting.”

I took her silence as a good sign. “We’ll spend some time together and before you know it, we’ll know each other well enough to breeze through the week in Scotland.”

“There’s no way—”

“Hey, I saw how much you wanted this design job. Has that just disappeared? Isn’t it worth a little effort? If you do a good job on a Wilde Developments project in Mayfair? Well, you won’t be a recruitment consultant anymore.”

I put my foot on the accelerator. I’d almost convinced her—I could tell from the way her arguments were waning. “I’m just a few minutes away and then we can start.”

“But what about you? I’ll need to know what you do at the weekend.”

“Well, I was in the office when you called, but let’s spend today and tomorrow—and the two weeks before the wedding—like a couple. That way, it will be second nature to us when we get to Scotland. We won’t need to pretend. You’ll get your career back on track and I’ll get Henry to sell me his building. Everyone’s happy.” I didn’t tell her that I spent most weekends working, and that for me, dating didn’t involve much more than dinner and sex. But whatever. It was three weeks out of my life in exchange for ten million pounds and victory over my demons.

“I guess we can see how today goes and then reassess,” she said.

I kept quiet to avoid inadvertently talking her out of giving this a shot. “You better get here quickly before I change my mind,” she said.

“I’m five minutes away.”

Eleven

Stella

The door buzzer made me jump. That couldn’t be Beck, could it? I still had my mobile in my hand—we’d barely hung up more than a few minutes ago. I should have changed.

I glanced down at my pajamas—there was a hole in the knee, and the elastic waistband had grown baggy so they slid to my hips. There were a lot of upsides to being single. One of them was wearing your favorite stuff around the house because no one was there to criticize or make comments about how his mother was perfectly groomed at all times.