Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,37
to know more about his family, about his mother in particular.
I didn’t really need another day to know I was going to help Damian Lancaster, but I was going to make him wait to find out my decision.
I just hoped I didn’t end up regretting it.
CHAPTER 12
Damian
I SETTLED INTO MY loaner beachfront home later that afternoon.
I’d flung open all of the huge glass doors to the patio, grabbed my laptop, and planted my ass in a lounge chair with a bottle of American beer.
Strangely, a lot of my stress melted away with the sound of the waves hitting the shore, and the balmy temperatures that made the place feel like a getaway instead of a location where I was hiding out from the press.
I grinned as I watched a flock of birds circling over the water. I’d decided not to tell Nicole that this home was actually owned by a Mediterranean prince who used the Newport Beach house as a vacation home to occasionally escape the confines of his royal duties. I hadn’t lied. The owner was actually a friend, but Nicole had already had more than enough surprises for one day.
The last thing I’d wanted was to push her away by mentioning all of my royal and aristocratic acquaintances. I’d seen her horrified expression when she’d discovered that I was a duke. It wasn’t that I sought out that crowd, but it was hard not to know and be friends with some of them since we’d orbited in the same circles growing up.
What I’d told her about my title was true. I had no use for it, and I didn’t encourage anyone to use it.
I heard my mobile ping with the sound of an incoming message. I grabbed it, hoping to hell it wasn’t Dylan again, whining about being trapped inside the Beverly Hills residence because he was surrounded by the media.
As requested, Dylan had met me at breakfast this morning, before our home had been attacked by a mob of reporters.
He’d been sullen, but sober.
What choice did he have when I controlled the money?
He’d been born outrageously wealthy. It wasn’t like he had any idea how to live on a budget.
One quick glance told me that it wasn’t a text from Dylan, and I smirked after reading the message that was clearly from Nicole.
Nicole: If I do this thing, I want you to know I’m doing it for your mother. Not for you.
I chuckled. Now that she knew exactly who I was, Nicole still didn’t have any problem giving me hell. She had no idea how fascinating that made her to me. Nicole treated me like any other guy who’d pissed her off, and she had no way of knowing just how…alive, how damn real I felt because of it.
Me: I was under the impression that you’d do it for ACM.
Nicole: Yeah. That too. But I want you to know this is definitely not about you.
Like I didn’t get that already? Her gorgeous baby-blue eyes had been shooting daggers at me in her office. If those blades had been real, I’d be dead by now.
Me: I’ll take you any way I can get you.
Could I find another fixer, another company who could jump into the fray to salvage the Lancaster reputation?
Definitely.
But I didn’t want another company. I wanted her. I wanted Nicole.
I was starting to feel like a damn stalker, but I hadn’t been able to control my instincts to find her today, even though I’d known she’d probably hate me.
That whole I’ll-forget-all-about-her-once-we-go-our-separate-ways bullshit wasn’t working for me.
I was going to have to find a way to get Nicole Ashworth into my bed.
Maybe once I’d had her, once I’d buried myself inside her and felt her shudder into the massive orgasm she’d never had before, my desire to find her wherever she went would go the fuck away.
Nicole: You wouldn’t have me. You’d have my job skills. Everything would have to stay strictly business.
Me: Agreed.
I wasn’t consenting to keep my distance from her forever. Just until she could trust me, and we could renegotiate those terms.
Nicole: I’m not even going to pretend like I understand that damn kiss on the plane, but that can’t happen again.
Me: Is it really so hard to admit that there’s some kind of dynamic attraction between the two of us, Nicole?
Nicole: Yes. No. Oh God, I don’t know. I really want to hate you. I feel like a complete idiot because I let you play me on that airplane.