London Calling: BWWM New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers Book 2) Read online

  “That’s what you said about coming to Paris.”

  Damn, why couldn’t he ever get his words right around her? He’d talked countless women out of their La Perla. Why couldn’t he have a simple conversation? “I guess I did. I’m willing to concede it’s a tad more complicated than I might have suggested.”

  “Just a tad?” Her laugh was incredulous.

  His grin came easy. “A smidge, really.”

  "Can I ask you something?"

  He swallowed hard, pretty sure he wasn’t going to like answering her. "Of course. I'll tell you the truth if I can." The hell he would. The last thing he needed was her any closer to him than she already was.

  "Yesterday, what was the nightmare about? When you kissed me, it was like you were trying to run from something. It seemed almost like you were afraid to touch me."

  I’m terrified you'll find out my secret. Because I know if I touch you the way I want, you'll abandon me eventually. But he couldn’t say any of those things to her so he settled on, "Because it’s better in the long run for you if I don’t touch you."

  "But you want to?"

  He swallowed, trying desperately to cool off his parched throat. "I think you already know the answer to that." He was saved from having to delve too deep into that by their arrival into the city.

  Thirteen

  After a full day in Paris, Xander led them into his flat around seven. He'd called ahead to his housekeeper to make sure it was clean and dusted and stocked with some food for the night and breakfast. He’d also had her open all the windows and shutters.

  Imani gasped the moment she stepped into the flat behind him. She'd insisted on carrying some of the bags, but she dropped them in the doorway as she half jogged, half stumbled to the window. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’ve completely forgotten about my aching feet because of this view right now."

  He grinned. The view alone was the sole reason he'd bought the place. It had cost him a fortune, but it was completely worth it. He couldn’t describe how he felt every time he walked into the flat. They were close enough to the Eiffel Tower to have the lights brightly illuminate his living area. He'd kept some of the Paris charm of the place, like the original wood floor, and he'd rehabbed the chandeliers, but everything else he'd upgraded with modern fixtures.

  Imani didn’t move from the window, so he picked up her bags and carted them with his into the living room. He might have gone a little overboard with the shopping today. He’d bought her a couple of things to help her look the part. All against her protests, of course. But the few things had quickly become many things. Not that they'd really be hitting up the town that often, but they needed to look the part of a young couple in love so they’d need to go out. Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  He shook his head to clear the thought. They'd made a slight deviation on the plan and he'd yet to course correct. He'd be able to properly manage that once they got back to London. "So it's safe to say the slack-jawed impression is because you like the view."

  She danced giddily in place. "Remind me again why we haven't been staying here since we arrived? I mean this is insane."

  He shrugged. "I used to spend more time here when I was doing fashion shoots. But once I got a more permanent gig at uni, it made sense to be in London more often. I don’t know. I feel more relaxed here. In London I’m usually playing a part. But in Paris I can just be who I am and not worry about disappointing anybody. This is one of my favorite cities in the world. "

  She chewed her lip as she nodded slowly. "What comes as a close second?"

  He chewed his lip as he thought it over. "I think New York and Tokyo are on a heated battle for second."

  "I'm surprised you didn’t say London. This is beautiful, but I have a love affair with the Queen’s city.”

  Xander laughed. "Give Paris a proper chance. I thought for sure with this view it would be your favorite."

  “God, it’s so close. But I dunno. There’s just something about London. Maybe because it represents escape for me. And today was such a breakneck pace. My feet might never recover."

  "You’ll be back. Hell, if things go well, I’ll bring you back myself. And I didn't take you to the Eiffel Tower earlier because I wanted you to see it like this first. I wanted you to see it at night first. For most Parisians it’s a bit of an eyesore, but I personally love it. I'll take you up first thing in the morning if you want, before we head back to the chateau.”

  "Yes, I want. If I’d done nothing else today, this would have been enough."

  "You’re easy to please."

  "Pretty much." She laughed. "Give me bright and shiny any day. It's part of why I started performing on stage. I loved the dance costumes when I was little. I didn’t start acting until I was almost in high school. I was all about the sequins and the glitter."

  He slid a glance to the simple band he'd given her. He would have to replace it with something better when they got back. As part of the charade, of course. "When is your show?" he asked, changing the subject, desperate to get on level ground again.

  "May, so eight weeks or so. We'll do a special performance at the Old Vic too. There will be casting agents there and representation, so it’s a good chance to get seen."

  "Sounds like a really big deal."

  She nodded, still staring out the window. "It is. I'm scared shitless."

  "I’ve seen you in character. You were bloody amazing."

  Imani ducked her head. “Thank you. I hope I don't disappoint Charles. I know some people didn't want me in the lead.”

  “Wankers, the lot of them. No one who sees you on stage will think you don’t belong there.”

  She ducked her head. "Thank you. That’s probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

  “Sweet. That’s what everyone calls me.” He cocked his head. “Let me show you around the flat. You can have this room. It’s got the best view of the Eiffel Tower.”

  "Where are you sleeping?"

  "I'm across the flat. If you need anything, just give us a shout."

  "You must be so relieved to get back in your own bed again instead of the couch?"

  He doubted it would help him sleep any better knowing she was just down the hall, but at this point, he was willing to try anything. “Something like that.” Leaving her to get settled, he took a long, hot shower, letting the grime of the Paris crowds wash off of him. After, he donned a pair of pajama bottoms. He normally slept naked, but that was a hell of a lot of temptation. And if she did come in needing anything, she probably didn’t want a bird’s eye view of his God-given assets.

  Now all he had to do was pray for a dreamless sleep. But the moment he heard crying, he knew sleep wasn’t in the cards for him.

  #

  This was the Paris she’d dreamed of. After washing her hair, she’d sat in front of the window and stared up. If she believed in fairytales, today was that perfect kind of fairytale day.

  Her phone rang in her purse and she dragged it out, recognizing the home phone line. “Ebony?”

  There was a pause. “No, it’s your father, you know, that man you don’t bother to call anymore.” His words slurred together and she knew right away he’d been drinking.

  Nevertheless guilt slithered its way down her spine. He was right. She hadn’t called. She’d been making it a point to avoid him. Because more often than not, he had been drinking and their conversations usually ended in a fight about money, abandoning the family to go to London, leaving him with the burden of raising Ebony. He seemed to forget that Ebony was his child, not hers. “Dad, how are you? Is Ebony okay?”

  “Of course she’s okay. I take care of her, don’t I?”

  No. Actually, he didn’t. She did most of the work, paid all the bills electronically, had organized for groceries to be delivered. But that didn’t matter because she loved her sister and she would do anything for her, including be the parent. “What’s going on, Dad?”

  “I want you to stop filling your sist
er’s head with that nonsense about her moving to London. There is no scenario where I let her just move.”

  “What? You don’t want her to have a future? You won’t be able to stop her if she wants to come.” But before she could bring Ebony to London, she had his mortgage bill to pay. But she wasn’t bringing that up tonight. She was too tired for that epic kind of rumble.

  “Well, I’m not going to pay for it. I already told her. And she can forget about her prom.” His words slurred again and Imani pinched the bridge of her nose. He’d never forgiven her for wanting out of that depressing house after her mother’s death. He thought she should have stayed home and gone to State University of New York. When her mother had died her sophomore year of high school, he’d completely unraveled. Started drinking more heavily.

  It had started slow, with him forgetting to pick them up from school, then the power getting shut off. He couldn’t manage the day-to-day caretaking of Ebony, so Imani had done it. He owned his own business, so his employees had taken over the lion’s share of the effort. But when he’d missed a payroll payment, she’d been the one to step in and set up automatic payments. And when she’d told him she’d be leaving for school, he’d crumbled. But she knew she couldn’t have stayed in that house any longer without killing off a piece of herself. So she’d chosen to save herself rather than stay for her sister.

  When her father was sober, things were good. She could see pieces of the man she loved. But those days were rare. The guilt she felt for leaving her sister behind overwhelmed her some days. But she was trying to fix that now. “I’m working to take that burden off of you. It doesn’t have to be hard, Daddy. It’ll make her happy.”

  “You never wanted to help me. You ran away as soon as you could.”

  Because he’d suffocated her. Because she should have been worried about school, but because he couldn’t deal, she shouldered the burden. And it was a heavy one. “I followed my dream. I’m sorry that hurt you. But it’s too much. You’re hurting Ebony.”

  “You don't know what you’re talking about. You think I’m doing this to spite you? I’m not. Business isn’t good, Imani. I have to lay people off. Those extras, I actually can’t afford them. And there you are living a highflying lifestyle instead of being here contributing. All you’re doing is filling Ebony’s head with dreams she’ll never be able to fulfill.”

  She blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she looked up at the Eiffel Tower. This was highflying. It was a dream, and she’d see it through for her sister. “What do you want from me, Dad? I’ll do it. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “You want to help? Instead of filling your sister’s mind with dreams she can’t have, focus on the things she needs now.”

  Why hadn’t Ebony mentioned her prom? Probably because she was more worried about the mortgage. “How much is it for prom, Dad? I can help.”

  “Dress, limo, tickets, you do the math.”

  The walls closed in just a little tighter and she fought to breathe. Why did this have to be so damn hard? “I’ll talk to Ebony and take care of it.”

  He was silent for so long she thought he’d either passed out or hung up. “Why did you have to leave?”

  “Daddy, I—” But he was gone. The dial tone sounded in her ear. Crying will not solve anything. Crying will not solve anything. It didn't matter what she told herself, hot tears splashed her cheeks as she stared up at the Eiffel Tower.

  #

  What the hell was he doing? He had zero experience with women and tears. When he did, usually he was the cause and he wanted to avoid kicked nuts. But as far as he could tell, he wasn’t the cause of these tears. But just like the day at RADA, the pull to take care of her was stronger than his pull to run. There was no way he could ignore the tears. Especially not in this flat. It was Paris so considerably smaller than his place in London and the walls were paper thin.

  He knocked, but it took several moments for her to tell him to come in.

  When he went in, her eyes were rimmed red and despite her attempts at wiping the tears off her cheeks, tears still clung stubbornly to her lashes. She was on her bed, her hair was damp and extremely curly. She'd tucked it into a high bun at the top of her head. She wore pajama bottoms and one of the silky camis he'd bought her.

  Oh hell. He could see the perfect outline of her nipples. Eyes on the prize, you lecherous ass. He dragged his gaze up and pinned it to her red-rimmed eyes. "What’s the matter?"

  She shook her head and swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn't mean to bug you.”

  “You’re not. Clearly you’re upset.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He had no idea what to do or say. Comforting someone was not in his wheelhouse.

  “It’s my headache.”

  “Not your headache, I want to know.”

  With a sigh, she said, “I got a call from home."

  Did he hold her? Did she want to be left alone? "I don’t understand."

  She rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “My father has a way of laying on the guilt thick. Usually, I can brush it off and ignore him. But I don’t know. Today it just hurt more.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Thank you. But you don’t have to do this. I’m okay. Not your problem.”

  He tried to lighten the mood a little and maybe make her smile. He could take tears. Especially not her tears. “I can be a good friend. Don't let the bad-boy smirk and devilish good looks fool you. Let me help.”

  She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "My dad is what you would call a functional alcoholic. Except, these days, not so functional.”

  “Why what’s changed?”

  “Ever since my mom died when I was sixteen, he’s been deteriorating."

  His first thought was he was so not equipped for this conversation. But for once it didn't stop him from wanting to help fix it. “Shit, I’m sorry. At least you’re here and you don’t have to deal with that on a day-to-day basis.”

  Her shoulders shook slightly. “That’s the crappy thing. I left my sister behind. I got a full ride to RADA and I bounced. At least that’s how it feels. The plan has always been to bring Ebony with me as soon as she was done with school, but Dad’s getting worse. I don’t want to leave her there.”

  “Is there someone else she can stay with? A friend? Family?”

  “No family except me. And I’m pretty sure her friends would take her in for her senior year, but she’s been accepted at a school here. It just costs more than our father’s willing to pay.” Imani shook her head. “I told you. It’s a long, screwed-up story.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “Money—is that why you were at the flat?”

  “Yeah. He neglected to pay the mortgage for a while there. Ebony called me freaking out. So I thought I could at least put out that fire.”

  Damn. “That’s a lot of guilt you’re carrying around. You might want to take it easy on yourself.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I do. More than you know.”

  He approached the bed cautiously. When was the last time he'd comforted someone? In particular a woman. Seduction, he knew how to do. Nurturing, not so much. He could figure this out. How hard did it have to be? He sat and reached for her, wrapping an arm around her. She slumped into him.

  "I'm sorry. I'm not usually so emotional."

  He smoothed her hair. He'd seen it done enough to fake it. "It's okay. Of course this is going to affect you." He was getting the hang of this. Easy. All he had to do was keep his eyes… He didn’t mean to let his gaze stray from her eyes, but they dipped for just a second to the pebbled peak of her nipple under her cami and blood rushed to his cock.

  Bollocks. Time to go. Releasing her, he stood up abruptly, careful to keep his growing erection under wraps. “Listen, I was going to make some cocoa. Would you like some?”

  In
the muted light, with her blinking her dark eyes up at him, he locked his jaw against the rush of need. She didn’t need his particular brand of fucked up. She was plenty screwed up on her own. He and his cock even had a silent exchange on the matter.

  Xander: Shut up and go back to sleep, you wanker.

  Cock: Bollocks, like I was asleep, given she’s around.

  Xander: You’re a cunt. We’re leaving her alone.

  Cock: Fucker. Or even better, fuck her.

  And so it went in his head, back and forth, until she reached up and took his hand. “Xander.” Her teeth grazed her bottom lip and his resolve wavered. But it was the whispered way she said, “Please stay,” that made him realize he was going to lose the battle.

  “Imani…” Fuck, why did his voice sound so husky? He cleared his throat. ”I—“

  “Please stay. Talk to me about whatever. I know, I’m probably crossing a million lines or something. But, I dunno—”

  Fuck. His cock twitched, but he refused to concede defeat. He could do something unselfish. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Scoot over.” She slid over in the bed and he lay next to her, on top of the sheets. “If you snore, I’m out of here.”

  Her bottom lip quivered, but she met his gaze levelly. “Thank you.”

  As he sat and talked to her, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something completely unselfish.

  Fourteen

  Torture. If Imani had to describe the prospect of living with the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life, she’d classify it as torture. Not like she didn’t have enough on her plate. Like her sister. Like the finances for her family. Thankfully, thanks to this weekend, she’d managed to make that first mortgage payment to put the bank off for a minute.

  But she had other problems on the horizon. Like having to work with the devil incarnate. She still had several days until the official start of rehearsals. She had to figure out how she was going to deal with Ryan. I am not a victim. And certainly not his victim.