“I won’t,” Kinsley laughed, thinking of the wonderful honeymoon that she and Jarred were going to embark on after the reception. She couldn’t wait. It had been a present from her soon to be father-in-law, a chance to tour Europe at their leisure. While the father and son relationship was still a work in progress, Kinsley felt that they had made huge strides in mending their decades’ long feud. With the Formula One season bound to start in another month, she was going to enjoy this time with her husband. Jarred had really taken to the racing team, working on becoming an integral part of the team itself and expanding his role to a more hands-on approach. They had already joked about how she wasn’t going to see him much once they kicked off and he’d assured her that he couldn’t sleep without her. The argument had been quickly solved.
A knock on the door caused Kinsley to shake out of her thoughts, giving Rachel a brave smile. “Are you ready?” Rachel asked.
Kinsley nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “I’ve been ready.” She was about to marry the love of her life, the man that she was destined for. She couldn’t get there fast enough.
Mr. Big
You’ve heard the rumors.
Yes, they’re all true. The women…the bank account…the really big…
Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just saying, there’s a reason some call me Mr. Big.
But none of it will matter to her. I’ve known her since we were kids. And she’s just as off limits now as she was then.
She’s my best friend’s little sister and when he asked me to give her the grand tour, he did not mean of my bedroom.
So Mr. Big has to stay under wraps… One problem, she’s the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. But with the secret I’m keeping, she’ll never love me back.
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BACK COVER - MR. COCKY
I’m a cocky bastard.
I admit it. It’s because I’ve got a big d*ck and I know how to use it. And man have I used it. When my life fell apart, I used it even more to forget.
But I don’t do that anymore. Because my life is back on track. I have a plan. And nothing is going to stand in my way of getting what I’ve worked so hard for. Nothing except for…her.
23
Nick Harvey stuffed his books into his backpack and headed for the door, dragging his feet on the polished vinyl as exhaustion settled in his bones. He’d pulled an all-nighter to finish his essay on Operations Management. This master’s course was going to kill him. Actually, no. Working double shifts and doing the master’s was going to kill him. But it was all he had right now. Going back to where he came from wasn’t an option. He’d rather cut off his balls. Liar. Okay, nothing was that drastic.
“Are you coming for a beer?” one of his classmates shouted after him.
“Can’t,” he replied. “I’ve got work.” God it would be nice not to worry about adult things and go for a drink with his mates. But you don’t do that anymore. No, he didn’t. Because there were more important things now.
A few of the girls from the group giggled and gave him flirtatious smiles as he turned to give them a quick wave. Yeah, that’s right ladies, take in the view. Because broke bartender was oh so sexy.
He was used to the open looks from women. It wasn’t something he usually thought about. They only saw the outer packaging anyway. They didn’t know him. Nor did they want to. They wanted his cocky smile and his big dick for a night. And usually he was more than willing to entertain them. But tonight, he had work to do. Besides with his internship starting in a couple days, he’d have even less time for a relationship. Working at one of Charles Day’s companies was a breakthrough moment for him. He wasn’t going to blow it.
Charles Day, one of London’s best-known entrepreneurs, had passed away a couple of years ago, but the legacy was still going strong, thanks to his offspring taking the reins. Nick was finally getting his foot in the door at the upmarket cosmetics firm Shades of Chic. He’d be able to cool off on work at the bar if he got his head down and made the right connections during his internship. It was all mapped out.
Tonight, work was at a bar in the Bellhowe Hotel, just a few streets away from Uni at Kings Cross. He was getting used to this routine—sleep, eat, study, serve, sleep, wake up, work. Rinse, repeat. It was all he had known for the past six months as he tried to finally finish. It had been too long a road. But six more months and he’d be free and back on track. He could do this. All he had to do was stay focused.
Once at work he hung up his coat and bag in the narrow staff room, and stripped off his Queens of the Stone Age T-shirt to change into a black short-sleeved polo. Before he could tug his shirt on, Chelsea burst in. Her gaze cemented on his abs and she let out an involuntary gasp. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she placed her bag on a peg. Nick could see her side profile lift as she smiled.
He laughed. “Look all you want. It’s only skin.”
“Only bloody perfect skin,” she muttered under her breath.
Nick smirked, but said nothing. This was easily the fifth time she’d “happened” to join him in the staff room while he was changing. She was cute, and in other circumstances he might have been tempted to shag her, but he’d had too many distractions along the way. A quick shag was one thing. But Chelsea would try to stick and he wasn’t having that. Nothing was standing in is way now. Besides, he knew he needed to keep work and sex separate. Don’t shit where you eat, Nick. He’d already learned the lesson the hard way.
The bar was pretty quiet. At this time of the early evening there were usually only ever a handful of drinkers. By seven o’clock it would be teeming with business types pouring out of their office blocks and into the pub to unwind.
As he wiped dust off some whisky bottles on the shelves, his ears picked up some heated conversation at a table in the dark corner. “That bitch should not be in charge,” hissed one guy, taking a huge gulp of amber liquid.
“Slow down with the drink, Si,” muttered his companion, who seemed like a babysitter. “It’s only afternoon. We’ve got work to do.”
“You’re right. We’ve got work to do, Dave,” Si replied. “We need to find a way to get her out, to take back what should be mine. He should never have left it to my fucking sister, bloody half-sister—never forget the half.” His face contorted in rage, he added, “Suck-Ass Selena,” then swirled the liquid in his glass. “Always so fucking perfect. Do you see how she struts around? Like she owns the place?”
Dave sighed. “It’s been three years. She’s done all right, Simon. And she did go to Uni and put in all that work while you were away,” he said, his voice quiet.
“Are you defending that bitch?” Simon barked. “After all I’ve done for you—giving you this job as my assistant and all that. And all the drinks I’ve paid for.”
“I’m not defending her,” Dave back-tracked. “Just saying, she’s a natural business woman.”