Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,10

was probably none of my business, but I wasn’t going to be satisfied until I knew why she’d dated so many wankers.

I cleared my throat. Since I’d never had to ask twice for much of anything, I wasn’t exactly sure how to be more persuasive. “You’ll like me more once you start talking. Tell me about Lancaster. What business did you have with them? But before you start, tell me your name.”

My dick twitched as she folded her arms across a pair of very ample breasts.

I wasn’t sure she’d answer. Her internal war between the need to talk and her desire to stay silent was evident in her expression.

I wanted to win. I always did.

I waited…

And waited…

“Nicole.” She sounded exasperated. “My name is Nicole.”

I released the air in my lungs. Maybe she hadn’t shared her last name, but I was relieved that she’d said something, because I was certain she still thought I was a complete tosser for reading her texts.

“Damian.” I hadn’t even thought about the wisdom of using my real name, which was a little concerning since I made it a point to never do anything impulsively.

Luckily, I didn’t see any obvious signs that my name meant anything to her.

“I’m not sure I really want to talk about the Lancaster disaster,” she said. “And talking about my failures with a man I don’t know, and who seems to love making fun of me, would be a pretty bad choice of people to discuss my disappointment with, don’t you think?”

I frowned. “I never made fun of you, Nicole. If you were under any impression that I was insincere, you’re wrong.” What kind of asshole would do something like that to her? “If I didn’t honestly want to listen, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Her voice had been reluctant, but I could tell she really did want to talk to someone, and I really wanted to be that confidant right now. Especially if the story had anything to do with Lancaster International. “Like I said, I’m a stranger. Shoot. I’m not about to judge.”

I could feel the jet lifting off, but I ignored it. I was too eager to hear what Nicole had to say, and being in an aircraft was like a second home to me.

She let out a sigh of submission, and I wanted to celebrate because I knew that sound meant she was going to talk, whether it seemed like a wise decision to her or not.

I calculated that my best course of action was to stay silent until she spoke, which she eventually did.

“My mom passed away from cancer a year ago. Her company…my company now…was her baby. She built Ashworth Crisis Management from the ground up, and she was really, really good at it. I came to London to pitch our services to Lancaster International. I had no idea that the owner is some kind of man-whore, and that I’d only find that out a couple of minutes before my presentation. Because I wasn’t prepared for some real-time scandal to happen, I completely blew it. I froze instead of changing things up to address the imminent problem they were facing.”

I didn’t speak. I waited for her to go on. I sensed that she needed to keep venting, and I was a very willing audience.

“I bombed my presentation in front of the Lancaster executives. I just…choked. I’m a planner. I’m not good at just…winging things. I was all over the place, and I never got to really tell them what we could do for them in their current situation.”

She looked so forlorn that it made my damn chest ache. I could relate to what had happened to her. I wasn’t exactly Mr. Spontaneous. I was a meticulous planner, too. “Something came up suddenly that you weren’t prepared to handle at that meeting, Nicole. It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head. “I doubt it’s ever going to come naturally to me. I went to school to become a corporate attorney, and I was a damn good one. Sure, I had to talk to executives, but it was normally a few at a time. And I knew what I was doing. Trying to step into my mother’s shoes is just so…difficult.”

God, could I relate to that. “Believe it or not, I get that, too. I stepped into my father’s shoes five years ago when he died unexpectedly from a heart attack. They were big shoes to fill, and I didn’t feel like I was ready. It’s going to take some