Her Bossy Billionaire (Love in London Book 1) Read online

  “Absolutely. Hazelnuts and all.” Jack said. “Leave it to me.”

  Tom looked stupidly delighted.

  Jack shook his head, chuckling as he walked to his office. It was insane but a hell of a relief. So now he had to figure out how to square it with the luscious tornado that had torn through the apartment this morning. She wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him again. She hadn’t appreciated his approach in taking her all the way to her door. But he had a younger sister, he didn’t just drop a girl and leave her to fend for herself—especially a wounded one.

  He snorted. Who was he kidding…he’d had no brotherly thoughts towards Libby. He’d wanted to see where she lived—exactly where she lived. He’d wanted a lot more than that too, except filial loyalty had restrained him. But he knew that in pulling back he’d stung her pride. He’d have to make it up to her.

  He went into his office, the maple scent following him. She hadn’t just invaded his home, but his workspace too. Had she made it in here when she’d been snooping? If she had, what had she thought of it?

  While he had business headquarters now with staff and the obligatory assistants and offshore offices, he still preferred to work from home much of the time. In the early days he’d had to, and running your own company wasn’t a 9-5 kind of job. It made sense to have everything he needed set up right at hand. He touched the trackpad and his computer screen flared to life. It took less than ten seconds to find her company online. The website was slick with crisp colors and a simple but effective logo. Impressively amusing job title too—mueslician. But the single line on the homepage saying that production had temporarily been suspended got his attention in a more serious way.

  Why?

  Was it the cost? While property was his primary focus, Jack now had a number of business interests and knew how to find information. He plugged in a search and it was less than five minutes later when he had his answer.

  Fire.

  No wonder she hadn’t liked the smell of burning food and had lectured him on the smoke alarms. The commercial kitchen she used had been gutted only a few weeks ago. So was she hunting for alternative premises now?

  There were several methods of encouraging someone to do something you wanted them to. Jack Barnes was more of a carrot than a stick man. And he’d just thought of the best carrot for one Libby Harris.

  Five

  Someone was pounding on her door and Libby—currently lying face down on her bed—wasn’t in the mood.

  “Libby? It’s Jack Barnes.”

  The mattress squeaked as she sprang to all fours. She jumped right off the bed and glanced at her watch. Three hours since she’d shut the door in his face and she’d forgotten him, right?

  Never.

  She opened the door and her heart flipped. She’d thought her imagination had embroidered his fit-factor, but he was even more handsome than her memory reckoned. She drew in a sharp breath, aiming to restore order to her arresting vital organ, but it didn’t work. Time for evasive action.

  She stepped outside to the landing and closed her door behind her. He wasn’t getting an invitation in.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, determined to be perfectly polite and never again let him know how much he got to her.

  He smiled, looking so friendly and charming compared to when he’d first seen her this morning. “Tom’s missing the hazelnuts.” His shoulders lifted in a helpless gesture. “Do you think you can help out?”

  He had to be kidding. “You’d like me to come and make more?”

  “Yes, please.” His smile widened…so gorgeous that Libby was rendered incapable of speech.

  “Are you going to make me grovel?” he asked with a soft tease after a long minute.

  “It’s an appealing idea.” Libby admitted frankly.

  “Ok I’ll grovel,” he stepped closer to her. “My brother is young and obsessive and right now the two things he’s obsessed about are rowing and your muesli. He doesn’t think he can do the former without the latter.”

  Libby blinked and took a step back. She’d known Tom was a fan given he’d hunted her down, but that he was obsessed by her muesli? “He thinks it helps his form?”

  Jack nodded. “It’s the thing that’s going to get him on top of the podium.”

  Good grief. “So I need to do this for Queen and country, is that right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Libby stared in silence, half spellbound by Jack’s vivid blue eyes. She didn’t believe him, but he was looking incredibly intense. And gorgeous.

  “I’ve got a deal for you,” he tempted quietly.

  “What?” She tried to keep her cool on, but couldn’t help her curiosity.

  “And a reward.”

  “What kind of reward?”

  “Come down to the car and find out.”

  She lifted her brows. “You’re not going to kidnap me. I’m good at ju-jitsu.”

  “I’m guessing you learned that at the circus too.”

  “That’s right,” she answered loftily, following him down the concrete stairwell.

  The far-too-flashy convertible was parked right out front again—like he owned the place. He popped the trunk and stood beside it.

  She stared at the open-topped box he’d placed in the middle of it. “How many bottles did you buy?”

  “I wasn’t sure which sort you liked so I got all of them. Three of all of them actually. All organic of course.”

  She stared at the bottles of bronze—delicious—syrup. There was a lot of money in the trunk and there was madness in his action.

  “You’ve lost your production premises.” He didn’t ask, he stated.

  She nodded.

  “Fire?”

  Had he spent the last three hours snooping on her? “You’ve been doing some homework.”

  “Yeah,” he unashamedly admitted. “Have you found somewhere new yet?” he picked up one of the bottles and held it out to her.

  “No,” she said firmly, carefully ensuring their fingers didn’t brush as she took the bottle from him.

  “Were you just going to give up?”

  “I’m still waiting on the insurance payment,” she said slowly, holding the bottle to the light. “They wouldn’t pay out until the cause of the fire had been confirmed and even though it has been they’re still dragging.”

  “And they’ve investigated it?”

  “They investigated me,” she answered harshly, glancing at him. Didn’t he know this already? Hadn’t he done his research properly?

  His eyes narrowed. “It was an electrical fault.”

  So he did know. “Yes, my dodgy landlord hadn’t done the repairs properly.” But before that had been discovered, she’d been grilled for days—by arson investigators, police and her landlord. It had been hideous.

  “So your payment should come through any day.”

  “Even so, I’m struggling to find another commercial kitchen I can use at the right times to fit in with my day job.”

  “Is that because of the fire again?”

  “Possibly.” She flipped the bottle in her hands, focusing on the label.

  “I have a place you can use.”

  Oh she wasn’t going into his house ever again. “As jaw-dropping as your kitchen is, it’s not a commercial one.”

  “I know. I have access to another—you may have noticed the bakery a couple of doors along from my building? You can use it to make your muesli at night. So long as you leave it pristine and ready for them when they arrive super early in the morning.”

  She almost dropped the bottle she was so surprised. “Of course I would.” Too excited at the thought of having a space to hide her enthusiasm behind a faux “cool”.

  “It has certification of course.”

  “So do I.”

  He took the bottle from her hands and replaced it with one of the other brands. “So you can get into production again.”

  She didn’t look at the new bottle, only at him. “Why are you do
ing this?”

  “Because Tom believes your muesli has superpowers and he wants more. With hazelnuts. And he’s almost eaten the lot you left him this morning.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “He can’t possibly have eaten it all.” She’d used a mountain of apricots, and a continent of oats.

  “Almost.”

  “So you’re doing this for Tom?”

  “Mostly. I’m doing it for you too. You can get it back into stores again. Get your company back up and running.”

  “Why do you want to do that for me?” Her heart skittered dangerously.

  “Because I want you to help Tom,” he laughed. “But there’s one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t want you to see Tom.”

  “You’re kidding.” She gaped.

  He shook his head. “Stay away from Tom and you can use the kitchen.”

  “What do you think I am? Some kind of cradle-snatcher?”

  Amusement burst from him—his laugh, the vibrancy of his eyes, the ease of his body. Much more relaxed than he’d been this morning made him even more attractive. “How old are you?”

  “It’s rude to ask a woman her age.” She studied the bottle so she’d stop staring stalker fashion at him.

  “I guess I’ve got bad manners then.” He carelessly shrugged. “How old?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “That’s hardly a cougar gap between you and Tom.”

  She knew she shouldn’t ask, knew it had no relevance to this conversation, knew it was taking things a step towards the intimate. But she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from her mouth. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “You act older.”

  His gaze sharpened. “How old do I act?”

  “Like a middle-aged, strict father. Stuck in his ways.”

  “No youthful impulsiveness?” he asked wryly.

  “None,” she declared. “And I’m not interested in Tom. He’s cute but he’s—”

  “Cute?” Jack laughed. “You’re calling my elite-athlete baby brother cute?”

  “He is cute. Kind of like a toy action figure. Very admirable too. But he’s not the man for me. No one is the man for me.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Mmm hmm.” It was right, but why did it feel like a lie all of a sudden?

  His smile flashed.

  She’d been wrong in reading his stance as relaxed. He moved so fast she didn’t even see it—she was just suddenly in his arms, her body pressed to his—the maple bottle a small hard lump between them.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped instinctively.

  “Acting impulsively.”

  “And I don’t get a say?” Her heart pounded—other parts responded way to enthusiastically. “You’re too used to being the boss.”

  “I’m too used to being boring,” he corrected.

  She half-laughed, because that was the last thing he was.

  “Let me,” he breathed.

  “Let you what?”

  “Not be the man for you.”

  She met his gaze full on and simply melted. He was too hot, too close, too overwhelming. “Jack…”

  It was a total yes and they both knew it. Triumph flared in his eyes before he bent his head—seizing the chance.

  It wasn’t a bruising, dominating invasion, but nothing simple either. He teased with firm brushes of his hot lips—until she opened up and lifted her chin higher. He had one hand on the small of her back, one hand lower, cupping her butt, slowly pressing her closer to him the deeper the kiss grew. His tongue flicked into her mouth—a tease before withdrawing. Stirred, she did the same, taking this moment of bliss for herself. Taking exactly what she’d wanted since she first saw him.

  And it was better than anything she could’ve imagined. Sexual attraction like this? This heat?

  Their tongues tangled, then took turns to explore. She kissed him every bit as fervently—lush and wet. Sensation swished through her like a tumbling waterfall. His muscular, broad body held hers, his hands still rocking her in small movements—closer, ever closer in time with the caresses of his tongue and lips and it wasn’t just the glass bottle that was digging hard into her now. She yearned not to rock but to thrust—hard. The ache opened in her womb, need knifing into her. Heat that could only be doused by him—deep inside.

  Her hands gripped the maple bottle so hard it was a wonder it didn’t shatter and slice her palms. She was so close to inviting him in. In seconds this had become insane.

  She jerked back, out of his arms. His breathing was irregular, but was nothing on her embarrassing panting.

  “Um, um…” Great. Kissed into confusion. Only one thought dominated her brain and it wasn’t one to be uttered aloud. More. “Um…”

  “You’re good with words,” he teased—so cocky.

  Pleased with himself, wasn’t he?

  “Yes.” Libby clawed back her sensibility and added some faux dignity for good measure. Anything to buy some time to start thinking again. “I’m a copywriter during the day.”

  His mouth twitched. “No wonder your website reads so well.”

  He’d looked at it when he was researching what had happened to her business? “You are the suspicious sort aren’t you?” she muttered, still breathless.

  While she was simply the bowled-over sort. With one kiss he’d scrambled her brain.

  “I prefer to think of it as curious. Just like you,” he answered calmly. “And in a way it’s a compliment.”

  “You thinking I was some kind of scheming witch wasn’t a compliment,” she fired at him, needing to regain some distance.

  “Okay.” He laughed. “It’s not that you’re a scheming witch. It’s that you’re so beguiling, any guy with the good fortune to be in your presence wouldn’t have a hope of concentrating on anything he was supposed to.”

  “Oh that’s good and grovelly,” she breathed.

  “Flattery works,” he said smoothly.

  “You think?”

  “You know, you were right about me. That kiss wasn’t impulsive. I’ve been plotting it for hours now.”

  She licked her lips, swallowing to buy a moment and settle the reaction to those words. Because her reaction was too much. She really needed to get a grip. “So this is the real reason you’re offering me the deal?”

  “It could be part of it. I’m serious about not distracting Tom though.”

  “Are you hard of hearing?” she said tartly. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not interested in Tom?”

  “I understand that, but you’re still a distraction to him. You’re a distraction to me. To any male in the vicinity.”

  Oh. Please. “No, you can’t tar every guy on the planet with your own mental weakness.”

  He stared at her for another second and then his smile formed—slow but gorgeous. “You are right. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I wasn’t as welcoming as I could have been,” he added.

  In what way was he thinking of welcoming her now?

  Her whole body curled up with want. But she couldn’t let this happen—

  not when she’d been so overwhelmed with just a kiss. And yet she couldn’t seem to resist him. “Apologies work,” she admitted with a smile. And she did want to help Tom, right?

  “So it’s a deal?” Jack moved closer.

  “I have one condition,” she said swiftly, battling her inner weakness. This attraction was just a little too strong for comfort.

  “What’s that?”

  “No more kissing.”

  His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.” She’d have laughed, but it wasn’t really funny.

  She’d thought she’d like a moment of hedonism—some sensual touch to provide a few seconds of respite, especially after the horror of the fire a few weeks ago. Some light fun...

  But when she’d been in Jack’s arms just then?
That had been more than hedonistic, that had been heaven. So it wasn’t happening again. A few more kisses like that and she’d be on the slippery slope to infatuation—and from there it might be only a skip from lust to love with a guy like him. Not just blessed with looks but with loyalty and kindness. His attitude towards his brother enriched his already extreme attractiveness. She refused to fall for him, though judging from that one kiss it would be far too easy. But love wasn’t in her future. Not after having seen it destroy her father.

  Jack looked startled. A second later the dreaded frown reappeared. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”

  “I don’t.” She rolled her eyes and hit him with the truth. “I’m single but that’s how I want to stay.”

  It had been so painful getting out of her previous relationship when it had gotten too serious—she didn’t want to go through anything like that again.

  But Jack just relaxed. “You can be single and still kiss a bit.”

  Yeah, there was that too—for all his over-protectiveness of Tom, he had player tendencies. You didn’t get to be as good at kissing as he was without serious experience. No doubt he had women lining up for miles.

  Even though she didn’t want serious, Libby wasn’t a casual fling kind of girl. She’d been three-months-max, but even that had turned out to be too long. She was best off completely without and solely focusing on her business.

  “No kisses.” Then she frowned as an unsatisfactory though occurred to her. “Is your offer conditional on my being available for kisses?”

  “Now who’s the one being uncomplimentary?” He challenged. “I’m not that much of a jerk. And I’ve never coerced or needed to pay for it.”

  No. She’d never really thought he would. Her chin lifted. “Then you’re fine with my condition.”

  “Of course. And of course you can change your mind about that condition any time.” He smiled. “So it’s a deal?”

  She raised the bronze bottle in her hands—blocking him from coming close again. “Absolutely.”

  Six

  Three nights later Jack hovered in the bakery, waiting for Her Royal Hazelnuts to show up. He’d been trying not to think about her—but the rampant erotic dreams that surged every time he closed his eyes had made that impossible. He decided he’d embellished her cute factor—she wasn’t that hot, he’d just been without too long.