There was an itch under my skin I couldn’t scratch, and I couldn’t work out the problem. For twenty years, I’d worked my backside off, and I’d created an empire of businesses. A diverse portfolio I was committed to expanding. I’d gone from nothing to self-made billionaire, and the world was my playground.
Except I didn’t roll like that.
I moved on to the next floor, passing through kids’ clothes and toys.
I’d arrived in the city last night, late for a party with a potential business associate after air traffic control kept my jet circling. When I’d finally got there, after midnight, it was to a woman bursting from the mansion’s entrance and stalking away down the street.
Topless. In fact, almost entirely naked, aside from her gold thong.
Startling, instant attraction hit like a fist to my balls, and I’d commanded my driver to trail the beauty until I’d watched her safely board a late-night bus, thankfully clothed by that point.
It told me all I needed to know about the kind of party the men were having. I hadn’t returned.
The seedy world of paying women for company, or worse, had never interested me. Though I hadn’t stopped thinking about sex since. Or the woman who’d done a runner.
I travelled up to the fourth floor, emerging at the very back corner of womenswear.
When was the last time I’d truly been happy? Oddly, back when life was harder. When I’d started my first business on the mean streets of Boston at sixteen as a way to help my single mom support my younger siblings. I’d gone between mechanics shops, offering to do their dirtiest jobs in the time I had around school. Early mornings, late nights. I loved the toil. The buzz of making enough so our power didn’t get cut off. Or so that we could buy the asthma inhaler my little brother needed so badly.
Picking up businesses now was child’s play. There was no fun in it anymore.
My phone rang. I was waiting on a call from the same Deadwater businessman I’d bumped into last night, but Mom’s name lit the screen, as if my remembering those days had summoned her.
“Hey,” I answered. “You’re up early.”
“I wanted to catch you before your busy day started.”
She asked the usual questions of how I was doing, and I smiled with my replies. Mom had never slept well, but with the apartment I’d bought for her outright and the investments I’d put in her name, she didn’t need to worry about being fresh for work anymore.
Across the expanse of the room, my gaze touched on a lone figure. Perched on a bench seat, the woman sat ramrod straight, her smile ready as if she was trying to make a good impression, though she watched the room with curiosity.
Job interview, had to be.
She twisted in her seat, giving me a better view.
My body took a screenshot. With rich, chestnut hair in loose waves and a wicked curve to her lips, she was pretty. Fuckin’ gorgeous if I allowed myself to gawp. But it was something else that pulled me in like a magnet.
She was the naked girl from last night.
Mom’s voice continued in my ear. “Did I tell you how grateful Carrie’s daughter was about you letting her stay in your apartment?”
I forced my brain to restart. I was so rarely in London anymore, it hadn’t mattered. “As I recall, you gave her the codes to get in.”
“Semantics, Elijah. Maybe you could take a trip to visit her while you’re there. Escort her to a show, perhaps.”
“I’m not in London. I’m in the north.”
“What’s a few hours of travel between friends?”
The beautiful stranger across the room took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back when another person passed, but they carried on up the main stairs. My gaze shot to the glimpse of collarbone at her open-necked pink shirt. That hint of flesh stirred my blood as much as her nudity had last night. I let mygaze wander over the swell of her breasts that the shirt only emphasized and down to mile-long legs under a tight skirt. Shit. I needed to stop.
Mom said my name, claiming back my attention. “Is it too much to entertain a family friend who’s so far away from home?”
I pressed my lips together, finally catching on to her ploy. “Quit it.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“C’mon. Matchmaking.”