Mr Spencer (Mr. Book 2)
Mr Spencer: Chapter 2

The car enters the grounds of my father’s estate. We ride down the driveway, past his expansive sandstone castle. We continue along to the lane that leads to my house on the property. The grounds are manicured to perfection. As usual, the security staff walk the perimeters morning, noon, and night. My two brothers and I each have houses on this property, including our own roads in, but we always use my father’s driveway if we are with him. I smile at the thought. Dad couldn’t possibly use another entrance to his house. He has to drive through the huge fancy gates to feel at home.

I love it here. My father’s staff are beautiful, and I always feel safe. Although I do worry about dad living here all alone. He’s never recovered since my mother died. She was the love of his life. He had to fight hard for the right to love her, too. She was his childhood housekeeper’s daughter. Our money is old money, passed down from generation to generation. Our social reputation is deeply ingrained into all of us. When he fell in love with the hired help’s daughter, it didn’t go down well. It seems like so much has changed since back then…. And at the same time, like nothing has changed at all. I wouldn’t be allowed to fall in love with the hired help either, and all hell would break loose if I so much as tried.

The moonlight reflects off the white pebbles on the drive, and a wave of sadness rolls over me as I look around at the grand grounds. Money doesn’t buy happiness. We would all hand over every penny we have in an instant if it meant we got to see our mother again.

I look out of the window with a frown and, as if sensing my thoughts, my father reaches over and takes my hand.

“Everything all right?” he asks quietly.

I smile at him, banishing my sad thoughts. “Of course. I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“What’s on tomorrow, dear?”

“Nothing. Gardening with Elouise.”

“You don’t have to help with the gardening, you know.”

“I know.” I kiss the back of his hand tenderly. “I like to garden, you know that, and if I get to spend the day with Elouise then all the better for me.”

He smiles and looks out of the window, somewhat bemused. It’s funny because I spend more time with the staff here than I do with anyone else. Most of them have been with my father since I was a child. Elouise is an older lady and our resident horticulturist. She’s gentle, sweet, and I adore her. She lives in the village and has worked for us for about two years, forever a dear friend.

The car rolls to a stop outside my house, and I lean over and kiss my father as Wyatt opens my car door.

“Hello.” Wyatt smiles and takes my hand to help me out of the car. He’s clearly been waiting for my arrival, as he didn’t come to the wedding.

“Hello, Wyatt.” I smile in return, placing a hand on his chest before I walk past him and into the house.

“How was your evening?”

“Wonderful, thank you. How was yours?”

“Quite dull.”

I smile as I walk. Wyatt is in his mid-thirties, and he’s my bodyguard. He usually comes with me everywhere I go. Six years ago, when my father’s company began buying casinos, our world changed overnight. Suddenly, the people he did business with weren’t always as reputable as we were. We needed protection from the unknown, and that’s when we were each given bodyguards who were to follow our every move.

My mother didn’t have one with her on the day of her death and I know my father has always questioned that if she had had one, would the car accident have happened? Would she still be here with us?

I used to hate the security but I’m used to it now, and at least Wyatt isn’t as obtrusive as my father’s security team. They’re hardcore. I couldn’t deal with them at all.

Glancing back, I see three of them in the car behind us. They go everywhere he goes and none of them will ever make eye contact with me. I know it’s because my brother has warned them with their lives if one of them come near me.

Wyatt is different, though. He’s trusted with me. We’ve also become friends. Not besties or anything as he keeps it very professional at all times, but I definitely rely on him more than I expected to.

I give my father a small wave goodbye, and then I walk up the path towards my house as the car pulls away slowly and heads back to the main house.

“Good night, Charlotte,” Wyatt calls from the end of the driveway.

“Goodnight, Wyatt. Thank you.”

After I shut the door behind me, I turn to put my bag down on the hall table, and I pick up the remote control to turn the television on. I head straight to the kitchen and flick on the kettle. I have a set routine whenever I walk into my house: television, kettle, and tea. It’s like the world isn’t right if one of those things doesn’t happen immediately. Dead silence doesn’t feel right to me. The funny thing is that I don’t even watch the TV after I’ve put it on. I simply like the distant background noise it provides.

I grab my laptop and sit at my kitchen counter.

Who are you, Mr Spencer?

I type his name into Google, immediately frowning.

Wait. Was his first name Spencer, or was his last name Spencer?

He introduced himself as Spencer but I thought that was his surname, hence why I called him Mr Spencer.

I think back to what Lara said about him, and I take out my phone to dial her number. She answers on the first ring.

“Hey, where are you?” she asks quickly.

“Oh, I came home.”

“Why?”

I bite my bottom lip to stop myself smiling. “I was accosted by the infamous Mr Spencer.”

She gasps. “Fuck off. What happened?”

I stare at my reflection in the kitchen window and replace myself smiling. “He followed me to the bathroom outside, and then he kissed me.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am. Remind me of his name…”

She laughs. “Did you forget to ask that while his tongue was down your throat?”

I chuckle quietly. “Yeah, kind of.”

“His name is Spencer.”

I type Spencer into Google, and a million Spencers come up. “Is his first name Spencer or his surname Spencer? I’m confused.”

“Give me a second, I’m trying to remember. Oh,” she coos. “It’s Spencer Jones. His first name is Spencer, surname Jones.”

I type Spencer Jones into the search engine and the screen immediately fills with images of him, my smile returns. “Okay I’ve got it.”

“Are you Googling him?”

“Of course.”

“Oh God, put the computer away. I don’t think you are going to like what you read.”

I cross over to the counter to make my tea. “Can you see him?” I ask her.

“Wait.” I can hear the music playing as she walks through the wedding reception. “Yes, he’s standing with his friend again, back on the upper level.”

I press my lips together. Now I regret not staying and getting to know him a bit better. I wish I wasn’t such a chicken, but I was just so shocked.

“Okay, Lars, I’ll let you go.”

“Charl?”

“Yes?”

“How was the kiss?”

I feel my cheeks blush. “Better than expected.” That doesn’t cover half of it, but I don’t want to sound pathetic.

“I’ll be over tomorrow for a full debrief.”

“Okay, see you then.” I hang up, sip my tea, and make my way over to sit back at the counter. I scroll through the images of him, my frown growing deeper. Every image is of him is with a different woman.

They’re all gorgeous with the majority of the photos taken at night by the paparazzi.

Models, actors, fame-hungry whores.

Oh…

I click on a story that goes with one of the images.

Spencer Jones and supermodel Amy Hallam leaving Vivid Nightclub.

Spencer Jones lived up to his Playboy reputation when he was spotted on Wednesday night with Amy Hallam.

Spencer was snapped earlier in the day on a yacht with Miranda Eastman, the Victoria’s Secret model

I click on the link to the photographs, replaceing a photo of him leaving the club with Amy Hallam, the two of them holding hands and getting into a cab. She’s an actress in a sitcom, and gorgeous, too. In the picture she’s wearing a gold, barely-there short dress. There are a few images in the set. In one, Spencer is looking down at her as they wait for the cab. In the next photo he is kissing her with his hand on her behind. He has that cheeky smile on his face, and then the next image shows them getting into a cab together.

He definitely took her home that night.

I click on the next set of images where he is on a yacht, only this time with Miranda Eastman, a high-fashion model. She’s wearing a black and gold bikini, and her long black hair is flowing down her back. She has a killer body.

There are a few shots, the first one showing him helping her onto the yacht by holding her hand. In the next image he is kissing her up against the rail, and then the one after that shows her lying on her back on a towel. He is lying next to her with his hand on her stomach, looking down at her with that same cheeky smile on his face. I frown as I look at the dates of the images.

These were taken on the same day. He was on the yacht with Miranda during the day, and then that night he went home with Amy.

I look at the expression on his face; pure mischief. It’s the same look I saw on his face tonight.

Gross.

I exhale heavily and slam my computer shut in disgust.

I sip my tea and immediately get a vision of him kissing my hand and being all gorgeous. Ugh.

Thank God, I ran when I did.

I could have ended up being another notch on his sleazy bedpost.

I get a flashback of his cheeky smile, and I smirk. Lara was right, he is an appalling rake… and I can see why he gets away with it. He’s completely gorgeous. Of course, they all line up to date him.

Oh, well, I guess that’s the end of that.

I trudge up the stairs to my bathroom. I turn the shower on, making sure the water is steaming hot, and I take off my clothes as I make the solemn vow to never think of Mr Spencer again in my life.

Never ever.

I’m sitting at the dining table staring into space. It’s Sunday night and we’ve just eaten dinner. My two brothers are on either side of me, while my father is at the head of the table. They’re all talking, but I’m miles away.

I’m dreaming of a life where I didn’t have to worry about what people thought of me, where my family’s reputation doesn’t matter, and one where my brother wouldn’t have a broken heart.

It kills me to see him so hurt.

My eldest brother Edward is to take on the estate and the family empire when my father dies, because he is the oldest son. The universe clearly prepped him for his destiny before his birth, too. He is strong—an alpha—and a leader. Being cold, ruthless, and domineering, he will definitely fulfil his duties well.

My other brother William is the opposite. He’s pure perfection—my best friend and more like me than anyone on Earth.

William is a doctor, and our mother’s death rocked him hard. I don’t think he’s recovered yet. Do any of us ever recover?

William fell desperately in love with a woman not long after our mother’s death. He worshipped the ground she walked on. She was the life and soul of the party, a high society girl, and my father knew her parents well. The wedding was an extravagant affair, on every society page, and an absolute fairy tale.

The two of them had a baby; a son named Harrison. He’s four now and he’s their world, making their lives perfect. That was until my brother came home one day from a work trip early and found his wife in bed with another man. The affair had been going on for months.

It broke his heart. Ours, too.

My father banished her from the house, and from our lives. We only see Harrison when William brings him over now, and that’s rare.

Edward, my oldest brother, hates William’s ex with such a passion that I fear he would run her over in the street if he saw her. This rocked our family to its very core. How do you deal with infidelity, especially when he is still married to that person? Still with her to this day, actually.

He stayed with her because he didn’t want to leave his son. He didn’t want to be the one who ended the marriage, and she promised him the world if he stayed, blaming her indiscretions on him for working all the time.

But the worst part, the very worst part of it all, is that he still loves her.

He loves her so much that he would give anything to make her happy.

I see it in his eyes every time I look at him. I see how deep his hurt runs. He’s dying a slow death, knowing that the woman he loves doesn’t love him with the same purity as he loves her.

She never loved him and the whole world knows it.

It’s a whole new level of torture for everyone.

It was the money that she wanted—the designer lifestyle to go with her designer cocaine. She got her way, too. Now they live in Switzerland in a huge mansion that she definitely doesn’t deserve.

I hate her.

I hate her so much that it eats away at me day and night.

My mother would be rolling in her grave if she saw what William is living through.

It’s a hell that he never deserved.

Her name is Penelope—the walking, talking devil.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by my brother’s raised voice.

“I don’t know about this!” Edward snaps.

My father exhales heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know we have to go.”

“Why can’t you just come back here?” Edward asks William. “It’s six weeks.”

“Because I can’t get time off. Not everyone works for Dad, you know.”

“Huh?” I frown. “Hang on, what are you talking about?” I ask.

“Edward and I have to go to America for work. We’ll be away for six to seven weeks while we do the tour of the casinos. We want William to come back and stay here while we’re gone,” Edward tells me.

I look between them, confused. “Why?”

“You are not staying here alone, Charlotte,” my father says.

“Wait, what?” I frown. “This is about me?” I sit back, offended. “I’m twenty-four. I can look after myself.”

“No!” Edward asserts. “You’ll have to come with us.”

“I can’t get time off, and I’m not leaving my job, Edward.”

“For God’s sake, isn’t it about time you left that job and came and worked for the family business, anyway? We have a family empire that you should be working on. You don’t need to work in philanthropy.”

“This is our mother’s dream that I work on,” I hit back. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Edward, or where to work. And besides, Wyatt and the staff will be here. I’m completely capable of looking after myself, you know?”

“Don’t tell her to leave her job. Why do you think you have the right to tell her what to do?” William snaps in my defence.

Edward turns, and I can see his anger rise to the surface. “You want to talk about leaving jobs?” He points at William. “Yes, let’s do that. When the fuck are you going to live up to your responsibility to this family and come and work in the business?”

“Edward.” My father sighs. “That’s enough.”

“I’m not,” William growls. “I never will. Casinos and making money aren’t life goals of mine.”

I close my eyes, resting my fingers on my temples. Here we go again.

“Why is that?” Edward growls back. “Because you’re hiding in fucking Switzerland with that whore.”

My eyes widen. He did not just say that.

“Because you’re too scared to bring her home in case she fucks someone else.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Wake up and smell the coffee, Will. She would have fucked ten men by now. When are you going to see her for what she really is? A dirty fucking whore.”

William flies out of his seat and pushes our brother hard in the chest. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Admit it!” Edward screams as my father flies out of his chair to separate the two men. “She’s brought nothing but shame to this family. We don’t even see you anymore. It’s about time you fuck her off and come home!” he yells.

They push each other and fall back. A glass gets smashed across the table as it tips over.

The staff come flying into the room, hearing the commotion. This isn’t the first time my brothers have become physical over Penelope. They’re always on high alert when William is home.

William pushes Edward hard in the chest and glares at him.

My heart breaks for him and his pain. “Will,” I whisper.

“That’s enough, Edward!” my father roars. “You will not speak to your brother like that. Do you hear me?”

“You make me fucking sick, sitting up here on your high horse. Keep your fucking nose out of my marriage. What I do with my wife is none of your concern.” William turns and storms out of the room.

“William, come back here,” my father calls after him, but William doesn’t stop and he doesn’t look back, taking the stairs two at a time. He’ll be back in Switzerland by morning… like always.

I turn on Edward and lose control. “Why do you do this? Every damn time he comes home you upset him. This is why we never see him!” I cry. “This is why he stays with her. You give him no support. None.”

My father drops into his chair and puts his head in his hands. My eyes fill with tears. “Go to Vegas, Edward, and better still, don’t come back. You and your judgement make me sick,” I whisper. “This isn’t about you. It’s about time you stand behind your brother when he needs you the most.”

“I’ll never stand behind him while he’s married to her.” He raises his chin defiantly. “You two can cower to Penelope all you want. I will not.” He points at my father and me. “She will get not one fucking penny of this estate, and I’ll make sure of that if it’s the last thing I do. I’ve got solicitors tightening up our wills as we speak.”

“Is that all you’re worried about?” I cry. “Money means nothing, Edward!”

God, this is a no-win situation. He makes me sick. I turn and storm out of the house, slamming the door behind me.

“Charlotte?” a

voice calls from behind me.

“Not now, Wyatt,” I snap over my shoulder as I angrily swipe my tears away.

How many times have my father’s staff heard us arguing over Penelope? God, it’s just embarrassing.

“Do you want the car?” he asks softly.

“No, I’ll walk. Thank you.” I exhale heavily and begin to walk up the road towards my house. It’s a good kilometre away but the bright moon is out, and it’s somewhat light.

I can feel Wyatt walking slowly behind me, anyway, making sure to keep his distance and give me my space.

With every step I walk farther away from the house, a little more sadness creeps in. On nights like this, when the cracks in my family are so wide, is when I miss my mother the most.

If she was here this wouldn’t be happening.

She would know just what to say to William. She would know how to quieten Edward. My father would still have his love.

If William just loved someone good and worthy of him then everything would be different.

I wrap my arms around my waist and imagine my mother’s smiling face. She gave so much love and light to all of us.

I wish you were here, Mum.

Things would be different. Things would be better.

It’s Thursday, and it’s turning dark when I leave work with my three colleagues. I work for the Philanthropic Society in Nottingham. Our job is to raise money for local charities. My mother was on the board of directors, and when she passed, I wanted to continue the project she was working on at the time. I never planned on being here long-term but somehow it worked out that way. To be honest, I think I’m here because this job makes me still feel close to Mum. Everyone who works here knew her and she is spoken of often.

The four of us lock up the building and chatter about the day as we walk out towards the street. It’s been one of those crazy days today. We were supposed to finish an hour ago. It’s 6:00 p.m. now and we’re only just leaving.

“Charlotte?” a deep voice calls. I turn, surprised.

“Mr Spencer.” I frown.

He’s leaning up against a tree by the side of the pavement, and my stomach instantly flips.

He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans, which are tight in all the right places, as well as a navy sports coat over a white T-shirt. His fair hair is longer and messy on top. His big blue eyes hold mine, and with that square jaw he looks like he should be on the cover of a magazine.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He glances at my work friends, making me aware they are listening to what I’m about to say.

“I’ll see you later, girls,” I mumble, distracted by the beautiful man before me.

“Bye,” they all call. I don’t miss the way they inspect Spencer and his gorgeousness, either. I smile when I imagine the questions I’m going to be hit with tomorrow. I have a few questions myself like What on earth is he doing here? My work friends eventually veer off to their cars, disappearing out of sight.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

His eyes hold mine. “Waiting for you.”

I bite my bottom lip as my heart begins to race in my chest. I’ve thought of nothing else but him since last Saturday. His kiss is seared into my soul, and the feel of his hard body up against mine has left an undeniable mark.

He glances at his watch. “For two hours, actually. It’s fucking cold here, you know.”

I smirk. “Why didn’t you just knock on the door?”

“Didn’t want to seem too eager.” He shrugs. “I thought that tracking you down detective style, taking a day off work, and then driving two hours just to try and see you seemed eager enough.”

I smile, my nerves fluttering. There’s something about him. I’d wondered if I imagined it the other night.

Not at all. I can confirm that he is, in fact, a very fine specimen.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asks softly.

I glance up the street, and then over to the car across the road where Wyatt is waiting for me.

“Erm…”

Spencer waits for my answer, releasing a slow, sexy smile. “Am I really that unappealing, Charlotte, that you have to think this hard?”

The way he says Charlotte is just so…

My phone rings and the name Wyatt lights up the screen. Damn it. “Sorry, just a minute.” I hold up a finger. “Hello.”

“Who are you talking to?” Wyatt asks.

I glance up at the gorgeous man in front of me. “A friend,” I answer, annoyed that even a simple conversation warrants Wyatt to call me.

I’m sick of this nonsense.

Spencer frowns as he watches me.

“Who is he? I need a name.”

“Not a word about this, please.”

“A name and my lips are sealed.”

Damn it, why is my life so damn complicated? He’s going to run a search on him to check his criminal record, I know it.

“His name is Spencer Jones and I’m going out to dinner with him. I won’t be needing you again tonight. You may go home now,” I instruct with annoyance. If I wasn’t going out with Spencer before, I sure am now just to piss you off.

Satisfaction flashes across Spencer’s face.

“You know I can’t do that,” Wyatt replies. “I’ll be outside in the car if you need me.” He hangs up.

I clench my jaw in frustration. I hate being followed all the time. I have no privacy whatsoever.

“Everything all right?” Spencer asks.

“Yes.” I fake a smile as I glance over to the car. “That was my security, I’m sorry. It’s very distracting, even for me.”

“So, you really do have security?” Spencer glances across the road to Wyatt. “Ha, fancy that. I thought they were joking.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I was told at the wedding that I wouldn’t be able to get near you because you were guarded. I actually thought they meant your brother.”

I drop my head in embarrassment. God, everyone knows about this stuff now? I had no idea. “I’m sorry, this isn’t normal, I know.”

Spencer puts his hands in his pockets, and the two of us begin to walk. “Why do you need security?”

We walk towards the restaurant strip. “My father is…” I pause because I hate saying this. “Wealthy, and he’s constantly concerned for my safety.”

“What happens if I kiss you at dinner?”

I laugh and raise my brows. “That’s very presumptuous, Mr Spencer.”

“Spence,” he corrects me. “My friends call me Spence.”

“Spence.” I smile.

“What do I call you?”

“Charlotte,” I reply without hesitation.

“Like that, is it?” He links his arm through mine. “What do your friends call you?”

“Do you want to be my friend?”

“Maybe.”

I smile at his ease with me. He’s very familiar and seems to have no insecurities at all.

“I really did think the whole security thing was a joke,” he says casually.

“I wish it was.” I glance back to Wyatt sitting in the car watching the two of us. “Does it bother you to have him watch us?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“What actually does happen if I kiss you? What will he do?”

I smile. “Probably knock you out unconscious,” I tease. Truthfully, I have no idea because Wyatt hasn’t seen me kiss anyone before.

Spencer stops and turns me to face him. “What about if I do it in private?”

Our eyes lock.

What is it about this man? He just gets straight to the point. I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He’s so brash.

“My private time is completely private.” I smile softly up at him.

The air between us crackles.

“You’re all I’ve thought about this week,” he says.

My nerves bubble in my stomach and, unsure what to say, I turn away, relinking my arm with his. We turn the corner to the main street of town.

“Where do we go?” he asks, looking around.

I gesture up the street. “There is a restaurant up the road a little.”

He takes my hand in his and picks it up to kiss the back of it.

My eyes flicker to Wyatt in the car that is following us slowly from a distance. I know he can still see us. It feels awkward being with a man while Wyatt watches.

“Don’t worry about him, worry about me,” Spencer says. His eyes hold mine with a tender glow, and he smiles softly down at me, clearly seeing that I’m uncomfortable with Wyatt watching on.

God, he’s beautiful.

“So, this is where you live? Nottingham.”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Beautiful.”

I smile as my heart begins to beat faster. Like you, I think to myself.

We arrive at the restaurant, walk in and wait at the desk.

“Table for two?” he asks a passing waiter.

“Of course, sir. Just this way.” The waiter smiles.

Spencer pulls out my chair and I take a seat.

Robert, a man that I know who works here, is on his shift. He sees me and immediately smiles. “Hi, Lottie.”

“Hi, Rob,” I say as I flick open the menu.

Spencer opens his menu, too. “Who’s he?” he asks, pretending to be uninterested.

“My ex-husband.”

Spencer’s eyes shoot up.

“Got you.”

“I didn’t realise you were a comedian,” he replies dryly. “He gets to call you Lottie and I don’t?”

“Comedy is one of my hidden talents.” I smirk as I read the menu. “And I’m Charlotte to you at this point.”

His eyes hold mine and a trace of a smile crosses his face. It’s as if he just accepted a silent challenge that I don’t know about. “I’ll add it to the list then,” he mutters.

“There’s a list?”

His eyes stay glued to the menu. “There is a big list.”

“Of what?”

“Being gorgeous and whatnot.”

I bite my lip as I watch him. Lara was right, he is simply delicious.

Robert comes over to our table. “Can I take your order?”

Spencer peruses the menu, and then looks back up at me. “How far is your house from here?”

“Not far.”

“Okay, shall we have some wine?”

I nod. This feels terribly grown up for a Thursday. “Okay.”

“What’s good on the menu?” He frowns, looking over the choices.

“The Aloft Cab Sav is nice,” I whisper nervously. He makes me feel like a timid little girl.

“Okay, we’ll have a bottle, please.” He closes his drinks menu and hands it over. “We’ll order our meal in a little while, please.”

Robert walks away, and Spencer’s eyes fall to my face.

“Why are you here, Mr Spencer?” I ask him.

He smiles softly and leans towards the table, steepling his hands under his chin. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“You’re on my mind.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I like that he wanted to see me.

Our drinks arrive and we both sit in relative silence, neither of us knowing what to say.

“How old are you, Charlotte?” he asks softly.

“I think I answered that question before. Too young for you, Mr Spencer.” I smile over at him.

“Well, I’m twenty-five,” he says seriously. “With thirteen years’ experience.”

I do the maths. He’s thirty-eight.

“And I’m twenty- four… with no experience.”

His eyes twinkle with delight. Maybe he thought I was younger than that.

We sip our drinks in an uncomfortable silence, once again.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

He frowns as he tries to articulate himself. “And you’re not secretly in love with your bodyguard?”

“Certainly not. You’ve been watching too many movies, Mr Spencer.” I laugh.

He puts his hand on his chest, faking his relief. “That’s good to hear. I can’t compete with bodyguards and shit like that.” He winks at me. “Although I do practice karate.”

We both chuckle and our eyes linger on each other’s. There is this mutual affection between us. For me, it’s that he speaks so unguarded, as though he already knows me, but maybe it’s just all his experience with women that make him this way. He’s not nervous around me like most men, and his confidence is very attractive.

I would give anything to know what’s on his mind.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“That depends.” He leans forward.

“On what?”

“I’m running a risk assessment in my mind as to whether I’m going to get beaten to a pulp if I kiss you.”

I smile bashfully.

It would be worth it.

The moment is broken by the waiter returning with our bottle of wine. He pops the cork and pours a little into both our wineglasses.

“Thank you.” I take a sip. “Hmm.” I eye the glass of burgundy liquid. “That’s nice.”

Spencer holds his glass in the air. “A toast.”

“To what?” I ask.

His eyes hold mine. “Our first date.”

I smile softly.

“May there be many more,” he whispers darkly, clinking his glass to mine before he takes a sip. “You know I wrote your name in my diary on Monday morning.”

I smile. “Why?’

“Because when I want something, I write it down.” He smirks.

I giggle. “That not at all creepy.”

He chuckles.

I take a mouthful of wine and think for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why would you drive all the way out here to see me without calling first?”

“Because I knew if I called you that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

His eyes drop to my lips, and then back up to my eyes with a hunger I haven’t felt before. The air between us becomes electric. God, the way he looks at me sets me on fire.

“Has someone hurt you in the past?” he asks.

I stare at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Physically, has someone hurt you?”

“What? No.” I frown. “Why would you say that?”

“You seemed frightened of me on Saturday night.”

I drop my head in embarrassment. I know he means when I felt his erection. It terrified me if I’m honest, and I hate that he sensed it.

“I didn’t know where my father’s guards were,” I whisper. “I don’t do that sort of thing in public.”

His eyes hold mine, and he reaches over the table to take my hand in his. “What about in private, Charlotte? What sort of thing do you do in private?”

We stare at each other for a moment. What can I say here without sounding promiscuous? “Private things,” I whisper.

“I should like to spend time with you in private sometime.”

I sit back, affronted by his gall. “Are you here simply for sex, Mr Spencer?”

He frowns. “Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but you call me that when you are pushing me away.”

“I’m merely asking you a question. There was no pushing involved.”

“I’m attracted to you, yes.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“Am I here only for sex? No. Have I wondered what it would be like to have intimate relations with you? Yes.”

Intimate relations.

My breath catches as I stare at him. He is the first man in my entire life who has had the guts to come onto me, and I replace myself fighting a smile. “Why?”

“You’re beautiful and different than most women.”

“So, you only pursue beautiful women?” I ask. “I’m curious as to what makes a man like you tick, that’s all.” I shrug, hoping that I haven’t just crossed a line.

He smiles and takes my hand over the table again. “Ask me anything you want. I have nothing to hide. I’m very honest. Perhaps too honest.”

“Then do you only date beautiful women?” I ask again. God, how did we get onto this subject?

“I only date women that are beautiful to me.” He frowns as he thinks for a moment. “Although lately my tastes have become very eclectic.”

“How so?”

“Being beautiful and nothing else doesn’t do it for me anymore.” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. I feel the effect of it all the way to my toes.

I stare at him, lost for words, but with so much to say.

“You, for example,” he continues. “The things that attracted me to you have kept me awake at night all week.”

“Such as?”

“You’re innately feminine. You have a confident air about you, but then…” He pauses. “When I touched you, you were frightened of me.”

I stare at him, heart fluttering and words lost.

“I’m guessing you are very intelligent and articulate, but you’re kept in an ivory palace by your brother so that men can’t get to you, which means you definitely don’t sleep around.”

How does he know this?

“I believe that you will probably end up marrying someone of your family’s choosing who is extremely wealthy, and you’ll live a life of luxury—one that is expected of you.”

I sit back in my chair, appalled by his assumptions… mainly because they are true.

“This is what you’ve been thinking about all week?” I sip my wine. “And here I was thinking that you were imagining how to pleasure me during those intimate relations you spoke of.” I roll my eyes in disgust. “You’re a disappointment, Spencer Jones.”

He laughs, deep and loud, and I feel it all the way through my bones. “I don’t need to imagine how to please you in bed. I know how to do that, without a doubt.”

Oh, I like this guy, he’s so different than anyone I’ve ever met before.

“Well, you’re wrong about one thing,” I say. “If I ever choose to marry, I’m marrying for love and my family will have nothing to do with it. And what about you, Spencer? Why are you single at the age of thirty-eight?”

He smiles and leans back in his chair. “Now, that is the million-dollar question. I could tell you some random bullshit about not replaceing the right girl.”

“Bullshit?”

He shrugs. “I have found the right girl. Over and over, I’ve found the right girl.”

“But?” That wasn’t the answer I was expecting at all.

“I haven’t found anyone who is worth fighting myself over.”

“Fighting yourself?” I ask. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

I sit forward in my seat, fascinated by the man in front of me. “Try.”

He smiles a slow, sexy smile, and he sips his wine, his dark eyes holding mine. “This is not the conversation I imagined us having tonight.”

“Likewise.” I smile. This conversation is refreshingly honest.

He sighs softly. “I love women, I love sex, and I love my independence.”

I choose not to respond.

“And I am not in the business of hurting people, so I don’t risk it.”

“Risk it?”

“I couldn’t be with someone, be in love, and then be unfaithful. It’s just not who I am. Hence why I’ve chosen not to be with just one woman thus far.”

“But you have friends with benefits?”

“Yes.”

“Is that what you want with me?”

A trace of a frown crosses his face. “Surprisingly… no.”

“What do you want from me then?”

He stares at me. “That’s what I’m here trying to work out.”

Our meal arrives, and we begin to eat in silence. He seems comfortable, but my mind is racing. What the hell is this date about? What does he want from me? For a long time, I eat in silence as I troll through my brain for a logical answer…

And then I get it.

This is how he does it.

This is how he gets women to sleep with him with no strings attached. He’s so honest and heartfelt, you want to slip straight into being one of his friends with benefits… because he assures you that there is no chance of getting hurt.

These women all know what they are signing up for and they don’t care.

And right at this moment, I would give my right arm for him to take me home for some of his so-called intimate relations. I get a vision of all the images of him with women from Google, and I cringe. Being one of those stupid girls is the last thing I need.

Stop it.

Don’t fall for this crap.

He’s a player …and his game is strong.

I need to change the subject. “What do you do for work, Spencer?”

“Spence,” he corrects me.

“Spence.” I smile around my mouthful of food.

“I own a steel manufacturing company and design skyscrapers.”

I frown as I chew. “How did that come about?”

“My friend, Sebastian, is an architect. He was having trouble with a design once and was talking to me about it. I looked into it further and in the designing process I found a niche in the market that wasn’t being met, so I designed a new form of steel and that led into me designing skyscrapers. I now ship to most first-world countries, and I have around four hundred staff working for me.”

I smile as I watch him become all animated. He’s proud of himself. I raise my glass to him and he clinks it with his. “Well done.” I smile. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you. It’s been hard work to get where I am. What do you do for work?” he asks.

“I studied law and commerce, and then I went to work for a cause my mother loved dearly. I’ve been there ever since.”

“You don’t use your degree?”

“No, unfortunately not.” I smile. “One day, hopefully, it will come in use. I have this wild idea that may come to fruition when the time is right.”

He smiles and pats the corners of his mouth with his serviette.

“And your family? Tell me about them,” I ask.

“I have a sister and a brother. My sister is a stay at home mother now, my brother a surgeon. My mother lives near London. I see them all the time.”

“And your father?”

“Is a piece of shit who I wouldn’t spit on,” he answers coolly. “I legally changed my name to Jones on my thirteenth birthday… my mother’s name.”

I sit back, surprised at his venom. “You don’t get on?”

“I hate him with a passion.” He sips his drink. “Next subject, please.”

“Oh.” I sip my wine, flustered by his hatred of his own father. I wonder what that’s about? I’ve never known anyone who despises their father.

“Tell me about your family,” he says, obviously desperate to change the subject.

“Well, I live on my father’s estate in my own house. ”

He smiles softly as he listens and continues to sip his wine.

“I have two brothers. Edward has a heart of gold but is so worried about my safety that it’s almost unbearable. Then I have a brother, William, who lives in Switzerland with his wife and baby.”

“William doesn’t work with your father?”

“No, Edward and he don’t get on. Edward hates William’s wife.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “And your mother?”

My heart drops, and before I am able to put on my brave face, my eyes fill with tears. “My mother was killed in a car accident five years ago.”

His face falls.

“I miss her dearly.”

He reaches over the table and takes my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you for being kind.

“Good Lord,” he mutters almost to himself as he sits back in his seat. “I came here to try and woo you, and all I have done is make you talk about morbid things and told you I am a womanising cad who can’t be trusted. My A game is most definitely slipping.”

I chuckle and pick up my wine. “A very sweet cad, though.”

Our eyes lock again, and the air swirls between us. He smiles softly. “You are more beautiful than I remembered, Charlotte. I’m glad I came.”

“So am I,” I breathe.

We eat our dinner and enjoy a dessert. I replace myself genuinely surprised at how easily we get along. He’s funny, witty, and not at all like I imagined.

“Sir, just to let you know the bar is closing soon. Would you like anything else?” the waiter asks.

Spencer and I look up in surprise. Where has the night gone? It feels like we just got here.

“No, we’ll be leaving soon,” Spencer answers.

We finish our drinks, and he pays the bill. Then he takes my hand as we walk out onto the road. I see Wyatt in the car and guilt suddenly fills me. I’ve never made him wait for me while I had a date before.

At least my father and Edward are away in London at a work function tonight and aren’t home.

“Where is your house?” Spencer asks as we walk up the road. He presses a button on his keys and the headlights to a sporty looking black Maserati light up.

“Just out of town.” I smile as we arrive at the extremely low vehicle. “This is your car?”

“Yep.” He smiles cheekily.

“I should have known that you would own a poser car.”

He flashes me one of those beautiful smiles and opens my car door. I feel myself melt.

“Yeah, because the Bentley you drive around in is so understated,” he hits back dryly.

I giggle as I slide into my seat. “That’s not my car, it’s my father’s.”

Spencer starts the car and pulls out onto the road.

“What do you drive then?” he asks with interest.

I bite my bottom lip and hesitate.

He casts a quick glance my way. “Your security guard drives you around all the time in that black Mercedes wagon, doesn’t he?”

I shrug, embarrassed. “Sort of.”

He frowns and bites his thumbnail as he thinks, his eyes stay fixed on the road. “How do you stand it?”

“What?”

“The lack of freedom and their control.”

I frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“They know where you are every minute of every day. How do you stand it? Don’t you feel suffocated and just want to break free?”

My heart sinks. He’s the first person who’s ever got it. “More than you know.” I sigh sadly.

He looks over at me and grins mischievously.

“What?” I smirk.

“Maybe you should run away with me and join the bad girl club.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I can teach you how to have fun in the dirtiest way possible.”

I chuckle as I look out the window. If only he knew how tempting that offer is. “I’m sure you could, Mr Mischief.”

He laughs and puts his hand on my thigh, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

This is the weirdest thing. He’s not getting romantic on me, he’s not trying to be perfect or pretend to be something he’s not, and it’s working. Second by second, I’m feeling more comfortable with him. All this honesty has him sliding right in under my skin.

God, he plays a good game.

“This is it, up here on the left,” I tell him.

We get to the large stone gates outside, and he glances over at me. “What’s the code?”

My eyes flicker nervously to Wyatt in the car behind us. I’m not supposed to give anyone the code to get in. “Eleven, zero, five,” I blurt out. I look at Wyatt through the passenger wing mirror and see he is getting annoyed.

Spencer pushes the code in and drives down the driveway. “This is my house here,” I say.

He parks the car and looks over at me as Wyatt’s headlights pull in closer behind us.

Spencer watches him in the rearview mirror. “This guy is pissing me off,” he mutters almost to himself, and then he opens his door. “Come on.”

I stare at him, confused. Does he think he’s coming in?

“I’m walking you to the door, Charlotte.” He rolls his eyes. “Fucking relax.”

“Oh.” I smile feeling stupid, and I get out of the car to follow him up the six stairs to the porch and my front door.

“Can I come in… for a coffee?” he asks.

I stare up at him as we stand in the darkness. “We have nothing in common, Spencer.”

“Spence,” he corrects me.

“We have nothing in common, Spence.”

He smiles down at me. “I don’t care.” He leans forward as if he’s going to kiss me, and I step back.

“See?” I snap.

“See what?” He frowns.

“This is why you can’t come in.”

“What is?”

“This ability you have to talk women onto their backs.”

He frowns and picks my hand up to kiss my fingertips. “I just want coffee, Charlotte. Why would you think I have a hidden ability?”

I watch him kiss my fingertips. “Well, it’s not really hidden. It’s out there for the world to see,” I whisper.

He rolls his eyes and drags his hands through his hair. “Stay off of Google, Charlotte.” He sighs. “Nothing good will ever come from that.”

“We’re just not suited, Spencer.” I sigh.

“Suited or not, you’re attracted to me, I can tell.”

“I am. I won’t deny that,” I admit.

He smiles softly and cups my face in his hands.

One night… just one night with him.

My heart begins to race as I imagine what it would be like to be in his bed.

He dusts his thumb over my bottom lip and watches my reaction. “I want to talk some more. I haven’t had enough time with you yet.”

“Talk about what?” I breathe, unable to concentrate when he touches my lip like that.

“Invite me in for coffee so we’re out of the sight of him.” He gestures to Wyatt in the parked car who is watching with beady eyes. Spencer drops my hands and holds his up in the air. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

I roll my lips to try and stop myself from smiling.

“And after coffee, if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine.” He raises his brows. “I’ll never write your name in my diary again.” He crosses his finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

I giggle sharply, but just as quickly I remember the facts of who he really is and fall serious again. “I don’t have what you’re after, Mr Spencer.”

His eyes hold mine and he dusts the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “Maybe I’m sick of the afters, Charlotte. Maybe I want a before.”

I feel my stomach somersault with nerves, the energy between us palpable.

“It’s late,” Wyatt snaps behind us, breaking our moment and forcing us both to jump.

Spencer frowns at Wyatt who has snuck up the porch steps. “Hello,” Spencer says, holding his hand out for Wyatt. I can tell he’s annoyed that Wyatt has interrupted us. “Spencer Jones.”

Wyatt glares at him and shakes his hand. “Wyatt. I’m Charlotte’s guard.”

“She’s home safe, Wyatt,” Spencer says flatly, glaring at Wyatt. “Why don’t you run along and give us some privacy?”

My eyes widen.

“I don’t think so,” Wyatt replies calmly. “I think it’s time you ran along.”

Spencer smirks as if amused and puts his two hands into his pockets. “Actually, I’m going in to have a coffee with my lovely date.” His eyes come back to mine and he takes my hand in his, picking it up to kiss it. “Aren’t I, Charlotte?”

“Yes,” I whisper, wide-eyed. Oh my God, what the hell is he doing?

Wyatt’s jaw clenches, and Spencer smiles and winks cheekily, clearly loving every moment of this.

“Wyatt, you… you are finished for the evening,” I stammer. “Spencer and I are just going to have coffee, that’s all.” I open my door in a fluster. “You should go home now.”

“I might see you in the morning when I leave, hey, Wyatt?” Spencer says chirpily. “Will you be on in the morning?” he asks, acting innocent.

Wyatt radiates thermonuclear anger as he glares at my cheeky date. I have no idea what the hell Spencer is playing at.

“Spencer!” I snap. “Cut it out.”

What the hell are these two idiots doing? Spencer is openly baiting him. His eyes hold Wyatt’s. “You do know that she’s twenty-four and perfectly capable of making her own decisions, right?”

I bite my lip to hide my smirk. He’s the first person who has ever challenged anyone in my life this way. It feels good to have someone in my corner for a change.

“Wyatt, honey, go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say softly as I walk through the doorway. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Spencer walks in behind me and waves with his fingertips, giving him a big cheesy grin. “Nighty night, Wyatt.”

I close the door and widen my eyes. “What the heck are you doing, Spencer?” I snap.

“Playing with him.” He smirks.

“I can see that, but why?”

“Because I won’t have him dictate to me when I see you.” He wraps his arms around my waist and smiles down at me. Then he leans down and kisses me. “Can we open the drapes so he can see me kissing you?”

I laugh against his lips. “Stop it, you’re acting like a petulant child.”

“He likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Why did you call him honey just now?”

I frown. “What? I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did. Don’t do it again.” He kisses me softly.

“Why not?”

“Because I like you.” His hands slide down to my behind and he pulls me against his erection. “I don’t want you calling your bodyguard honey.”

My heart begins to hammer in my chest, the air leaving my lungs in one long exhale.

“You… like me?” I ask nervously as I look up at him. How is a woman supposed to think with that weapon pressed up against her stomach?

Don’t flinch, don’t flinch, don’t flinch.

“Hmm.” He smiles a slow, sexy smile and pushes my hair back from my face. “I like you very much, actually.”

This is the most confusing date I have ever been on. All of the men that I’ve dated in the past have broken their necks to impress me, and yet Spencer isn’t giving a damn about what I think, and he’s purposely trying to anger my bodyguard.

He lives completely in the moment.

Strangely enough, I think he may be the most appealing man I’ve met in a very long time. If not ever.

I imagine Edward meeting Spencer, and I drop my head to hide my smile.

“What?” He presses his finger under my chin to bring my face up to his.

“My brother would hate you.”

He laughs. “Do I look like I give a fuck what your brother thinks of me?”

I smile. “No.”

He leans down, and his lips take mine, his tongue gently sweeping through my open mouth. My knees weaken.

“Put your arms around my neck, angel,” he murmurs against my lips, knowing he has to direct me.

Angel.

I tentatively put my arms around his strong shoulders, enjoying the way he looks down at me with his big blue eyes.

You could cut the sexual tension between us with a knife. I can feel his hard erection up against my stomach, and strangely enough, I want to… I want to feel it.

This feels strangely intimate and special, even though he’s just told me at dinner that it’s not.

“Are you behaving, Mr Spencer?” I whisper up at him.

“God, I don’t want to.” He leans down and kisses me again. “You make me want to misbehave.”

“What happens when you misbehave?”

“We fuck,” he whispers into my mouth. “Long, deep, and hard.”

My insides begin to melt as I imagine his naked body on top of mine. My arousal throbs between my legs as his lips take mine again. For a long time, we stand in the same spot, kissing like teenagers.

Our kiss turns frantic. He walks me to the couch and falls back, pulling me down and making me straddle his lap.

His hands are in my hair and our faces are pressed together as our kisses become more erotic.

His lips drop to my neck and he bites me hard.

“Maybe I should give you a huge hickey to really piss Wyatt off?” he breathes against my skin. “That’ll teach him to mess with me.”

“Spencer.” I gasp and pull my neck away from his teeth. “Are you insane?”

His eyes replace mine. “Maybe.” I can feel his huge erection up against my sex and he grinds me onto his body.

“Rock onto me, angel,” he whispers. He grabs my hipbones and begins to slowly rock me back and forth over his hard erection. My body responds, quivering with pleasure.

Oh God, he feels good.

My hands are in his hair, and we stare at each as a perfect moment of clarity runs between us.

We continue to kiss, my body slowly rocking over his, and without any warning my body begins to shudder. Spencer hisses in approval.

“Let’s go to bed and fuck,” he whispers hoarsely.

I pant, a myriad of emotions running through me. “What?” I whisper as my arousal fog instantly disappears.

“Let’s fuck,” he mumbles against my neck.

“You want to fuck me?” I whisper, shocked at his candour.

“God, yes.” He growls as he kisses me again. “Tell me you want to fuck me, too.” He moans against my breasts.

Suddenly, I have this out of body experience watching him in his aroused state. “Spencer?” I say.

“Spence,” he corrects me, and his teeth bite my nipple through my blouse.

“I’ve never…”

His kiss turns frantic, and he drags me across his hard cock.

“I’m a virgin,” I whimper.

He pulls back to look at me, his hair is all messed up, and his lips swollen.

“You’re a what?” He frowns.