Her Bossy Billionaire (Love in London 1)

“I can walk,” she backed away from him as he followed her. She didn’t want him helping her up the stairs again, thanks. She didn’t want him anywhere near her body for fear she’d reveal just how hot she thought he was. It was embarrassing.

“I’m sure you can, but I’m seeing you all the way,” he said calmly.

All the way? Libby clamped down the crazy thoughts, knowing damn well he hadn’t meant that as any kind of double entendre. Her hormones heard it though. All calm deserted her as he followed a half pace behind, all the way along the corridor and up the stairs to her tiny unit.

What was with the chivalry now? First he accused her of being a thief and a woman with designs on his brother. Then he followed that up with a few moments of flirting that he’d subsequently snatched away.

Why had he pulled back? His expression, his stance, his intensity had told her he’d wanted to kiss her. She didn’t think her radar was that off. But when she’d moved—that tiny involuntary move forward, okay yes, to invite—he’d changed his mind and pulled away faster than a hundred meter sprinter out of the blocks. Frankly, after the nightmare of the last few weeks she could have done with a kiss.

The man was a tease. Wasn’t being that good looking enough for him? Did the arrogant jerk have to have all women under the sun want him so obviously? His ego was clearly ravenous.

A tease wasn’t nice. Her ex-boyfriend had accused her of playing him, of being a tease. She’d never meant for him to get so serious. Hurting him had been hideous, but it had been better to do it sooner rather than later when it would have been so much worse. Marriage wasn’t for her. She was never running the risk of hurting her husband the way her mother’s death hurt her father. Or of being hurt herself. Not when she wasn’t sure her heart wouldn’t let her down the way her parents’ hearts had. Nor would she expose a child to that risk. Marriage wasn’t in her plan for a very real reason.

Now Jack was truly a tease. But she’d made the muesli and she’d never see him again in her life. Totally fine by her—and her hormones.

“Thanks so much,” she said, allowing her words to overflow with sarcasm as she unlocked her door. No way on this earth was she inviting him in.

“Goodbye Libby. Thank you.”

And now he was being all polite? She summoned her self-control and resisted the urge to turn to watch him leave. No, she’d forgotten about his Total Handsomeness already.

So he’d dropped her off and could now forget all about her, right? No problem. Except if she did end up with Tom, Jack reckoned he’d take that year-long overseas trip he’d delayed for so long. Walking back into apartment, the lingering smell hit him. Yeah, there’d be no forgetting yet. The burnt hazelnut bitterness had long gone and what remained was the subtle scent of maple. That syrup inspired many tantalizing thoughts. But the sight of his brother scattered every one of them.

Tom was in the kitchen, clearly having just showered, using a soup ladle to spoon cereal from the cooling tray into a salad bowl. Good grief.

“How was it?” Jack turned on the coffee machine, deliberately delaying mention of Libby.

“Good,” Tom muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he munched. “Game on.”

Jack smothered a grin. Tom was a champion—double sculls rowing, lightweight division. In these final few weeks of training he was ramping up not just the physical fitness, but the mental strength. He had to preserve the unshakable belief that he could do it. No distractions allowed.

Jack flexed his shoulders to ease the tension that had been coiling there the last couple of hours. The pressure on his kid brother was immense. The country had golden hopes for the rowers, for Tom and his partner in particular. And here he was in pajamas eating muesli. If the nation could see him now…

“Where’s Libby?” Tom asked through a mouthful of milky oats.

“Gone.”

“You scared her away?” Tom swallowed with difficulty given the frown he had on. “What about my muesli?”

“You’re eating it, aren’t you?” Jack leaned back against the counter, trying to exude a relaxed air. “She didn’t need to hang around.”

Tom chewed, not looking impressed. “But there’s something missing.”

Oh he had to be kidding. But Tom’s face was registering confused thought.

“Hazelnuts.” Jack told him, not believing that they’d make that much difference.

“Yeah,” Tom chewed some more. “It needs the hazelnuts. Damn.”

Jack watched Tom attack the contents of the giant bowl as if the faster he ate it the better it’d get.

“What happened to the hazelnuts? There really aren’t any?” He searched with his spoon like a leprechaun hoping to find the gold at the end of the rainbow. “We need to get her back.”

Because of some missing nuts? It wasn’t just nuts that were missing. Tom seemed to have lost a few brain cells in training camp too.

Jack watched Tom’s increasingly manic shoveling with growing concern. “This is really about muesli?”

“Of course it’s about muesli,” Tom snapped. “What else would it be about?” A frown grew as he looked at Jack’s raised brows. “You thought I was after her?” He jabbed his spoon towards Jack’s chest. “Like I’ve got time for that?”

Jack rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand, hiding his involuntary smile and straightening away from the bench as a burst of adrenalin surged through his muscles.

Tom took in the last spoonful of the hazelnut-devoid cereal and chewed. Slowly a sly look replaced his indignant frown. “Actually, she is a bit of a babe,” he muttered. “I didn’t notice so much at the time because I was just so damn happy to get more muesli.” He swallowed and his grin went impish. “But you thought she was a babe.”

“Explain the muesli.” Jack growled impatiently, ignoring Tom’s perception. It really was just the food his brother was interested in? No way.

Now Tom’s expression turned sheepish and he ladled another heap of cereal into his salad bowl and added a splash of skim milk. “You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”

“Nothing new there,” Jack said blandly. “Tell me.”

Tom sighed. “I’ve been eating it the last year or so. Every morning for breakfast. And snacks. Go through bags of the stuff.” Tom hesitated.

Oh hell, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. He could see the issue already. “You think it’s got superpowers or something?”

Tom actually nodded. “I’ve never lost a race since I started eating it.” He held up a hand. “I know, I know… but you know. It’s a talisman.”

“Tom that’s ridiculous,” Jack half laughed. “It’s muesli.”

“I know. But it works. It really does. And I’m having it for breakfast. I have to have it. And it needs the hazelnuts. And I’m not changing anything in the next few weeks.”

Never deviate from a winning routine. If it ain’t broke…and all that.

Jack silently studied his elite-athlete brother. He knew the focus and determination required. He also understood the element of ritual—heck, he’d even had a lucky pair of socks back in the day when he’d competed. Of course he didn’t want anything to throw Tom’s focus and self-belief off in these last few weeks—but muesli of all things? “Did you tell her about your fixation?”

“No. But she understood that I really wanted it and she was happy to make me some specially. And you sent her away.” Tom accused gloomily. “Is this all she left?”

“Mmmm,” Jack thought rapidly. Because before he made promises, he needed to check out Libby’s story and be doubly sure about Tom’s motivation. Because Jack wasn’t just a big brother, he’d been mother, father, and friend rolled into one for Tom—he’d do everything he could to help, and protect, his brother. And he never wanted to be tempted into disloyalty again. That moment this morning had been bad enough. “Why did she have to make it here?”

“She’s not in production at the moment. Her premises aren

’t available. That’s why it’s not in stock in the shops.”

“But you gave a complete stranger a key and the pin number for the alarm.” Surely that was because Tom was keen—on her more than her product?

“I checked her out,” Tom defended himself. “But you only need to look at her to know she’s reliable,” Tom said. “And she’s an amazing cook.”

Jack winced, he hadn’t accepted her integrity at face value.

Tom’s sheepishness turned defiant and he frowned at the tray again. “I’m going to need more than this. And it needs the hazelnuts. It’s not right. It has to be right.”

Jack heard the edge in Tom’s voice and he recognized the other signs—the pacing, the frown, the singular purpose... His brother was absolutely obsessive. It was his greatest strength. It was also a weakness. And it was clear here that the obsession wasn’t Libby, but her muesli. Thank goodness.

“I have to get more.” Tom labored the point. “I go through a lot.”

No kidding. He’d probably been keeping her in business single-handedly.

“This isn’t good enough,” Tom declared, turning away from the bench decisively. “I’m going to call her.”

“I’ll call her,” Jack interrupted, able to be every bit as determined as his kid brother. “You relax and go take a nap or something and I’ll arrange it.”

“You will?” Tom stopped his march across the kitchen. “Plus hazelnuts?”