Chapter 1

Chapter One

Two Years Ago

"Bollocks!"

Lydia Winnick startled to a stop on the sidewalk, nearly slamming into the back of the swearing man in front of her.

Oh crap. Poor guy.

He had one foot in a puddle, and water clearly seeped into his sock and dress shoe.

"Bloody—"

A few feet away, a woman leaving the Notting Hill Bookshop gave the man a sharp, disapproving look.

The man probably hadn't meant to scandalize the exiting woman. Actually, he'd only stepped into the puddle to allow her to pass.

Which worked out for me. Liddy was just inches from the puddle, and she hadn't noticed it either.

But as the offended woman continued her scowl, the man laughed. "Shite weather we're having, am I right?" He pushed past her into the bookshop and let the door swing shut behind him.

Liddy snickered to herself, then ducked her chin as the lady's withering look transferred to her. If only she could come up with something as clever. Instead, she hurried into the bookstore, happy to get away from the irritated lady.

She shook out her rain jacket by the door, wishing she'd brought an umbrella. When she'd packed her apartment in Nashville to move to London, she'd accidentally shipped her umbrella instead of packing it in her suitcase. Four days after arriving, her mistake was glaring.

And that carry-on full of books isn't doing me much good in this weather.

On the other hand, books were nice to have in her empty apartment.

Books had always been one of her comforts, no matter where she went or what life threw at her. When she'd been in grade school, there had been few problems she couldn't solve—or avoid—by turning to a book.

This was why, when the CEO of Camden Enterprises, Aiden Camden, had told her they'd be holding her "welcome" dinner in Notting Hill, she'd left extra early to visit the bookstore she'd heard about in the movies. Whether it was a tourist trap.

The smell of books was comforting—a perfume that reminded her of home.

Heading for the nonfiction section, she heard her stomach growl as she passed the cookbooks, the glossy photos of delicious food a reminder that she hadn't eaten all day. She'd spent most of the day filling out forms online for her new job. After she'd gotten her master's degree in the spring, she'd applied for a job at Camden Enterprises without telling her sister Elle or her future brother-in-law, Quinn. Quinn's family company specialized in defense contracting, and it was a perfect fit.

And more importantly, the company was in London, where she could get a fresh start.

Her surgery five years ago was supposed to be her fresh start, then college.

But somehow, neither had been.

But maybe moving across the Atlantic will be.

As she drew closer to the section that held travel guides, she caught sight of the man she'd seen outside. He faced the bookshelf and was on his phone.

"And I don't really care what she thinks. You wouldn't be asking me to be there if it were anyone else. She wants to impress me? Then she can start by proving she deserves to be there."

Liddy stepped back. She shouldn't eavesdrop on his conversation, but he stood in the way of the books she wanted to look at.

"As a matter of fact, I had plans . . ." The man's voice dropped. "No, not Natalie. I saw her two nights ago. Vivienne." The man glanced over his shoulder, then noticed Liddy, his eyes locking with hers for a moment. Whoa, hottie. He had short, wavy dark hair and unique ice-blue eyes. A shadow of stubble was on that sexy jawline, and the finely tailored suit he wore couldn't hide his broad shoulders.

No wonder he has so many dates lined up.

He lowered his voice even further and stepped closer to the books.

She almost turned in a circle and did another lap around the bookstore.

She wrinkled her nose. Then again, he was still in her way and taking up valuable floor space in a small store while talking.

His voice went up a notch with irritation. "Well, you're never going to convince me of that. What was all that ‘I will not interfere with your team' shite? And now you want me to accept some twat without blinking an eye?"

"Excuse me," she finally murmured.

He scowled and stepped back to let her pass, not glancing her way.

Too bad. Hottie was quickly losing points. Maybe he's just rude, after all.

Her gaze focused on the travel guides lining the bookshelf in front of her.

"Yes," she murmured, spotting the book she'd come for. Elle had recommended it as a quirky, off-the-beaten-path guide to London.

"It's just the sort of thing you'd love," she'd said on the phone. "It has lots of fun little tidbits that you'd never know. Right up your alley."

She reached for the book, and her hand bumped into the outstretched hand of the man on the phone.

Their fingers collided, and for the briefest moment, his fingers enclosed hers rather than grabbing the book. Startled, they both dropped back nearly at the same time.

Her eyes locked with his again and widened.

A blush heated her cheeks as though he'd caught her trying to steal something, and her hand darted back to her side.

God, he really is gorgeous.

"Let me call you back." He hung up and shoved the phone away, grinning at her. "Normally, I don't hold hands until the second date, but in your case, I'll consider it."

And there's that charm that has the dates lining up. She rolled her eyes, hoping he'd notice.

"You know, I would, but I really don't want to upset Natalie. Or Vivienne."

A hint of startled amusement lit his eyes and then he released a chuckle. "It isn't polite to eavesdrop, you know. At least not in British society."

She shrugged playfully. "Then the rules don't apply to me. I'm American."

"Everyone here is American. Or a fan of Julia Roberts."

"I'm more of a Hugh Grant kind of girl." She gave him a grin of her own, tilting her head. "But what about you? You're English, and you're here."

"Who says I'm from here?" He gestured toward the worker behind the register. "And I'd venture a guess he's English, too."

His answer was intriguing.

"What does that mean? You sound English."

"Maybe. I've moved a lot. Been in London since I was eighteen. But I spent long stretches of my childhood elsewhere, too."

Equally evasive.

I need to stop being intrigued by the hottie and just get my book. He has enough women to keep him busy.

She quirked a brow. "Interesting." She grabbed the book she'd come for.

He held out a hand. "Actually, I was going to get that book."

Seriously?

"Then get another copy."

"That's the only one." He pointed at the space on the shelf. "And I was here first."

She bit her lip.

I can just let him have it. Order one later.

She set the book back slowly, then crossed her arms, settling her weight on her back foot. "Now you're calling dibs?" She lifted her chin in a defiant dare.

"Yeah, I think I am." He smiled. With full lips and straight teeth like that, he could be a model. He also had the slightest cleft in his chin. Ugh. He probably is a model.

But random men—even hot ones—didn't normally get her attention like this.

Random strangers aren't normally so effortless to talk to either.

"What are you getting the book for?" she asked.

He searched her gaze as though he didn't quite believe what she was saying each time she opened her mouth. "As a matter of fact, as a gift."

"For Vivienne?" She'd already admitted to eavesdropping. She may as well have some fun with it.

"No." He sighed. "For some glorified intern I'm being forced to work with. It's my attempt to pretend to be nice when, really, I'm an arsehole and will do my best to see her fired in the first month."

"Ah . . . the twat ." She tried not to laugh at how forthcoming he'd been. "I appreciate your honesty." She tugged the book closer toward her. "I'm going to have to go with no. Because my sister recommended this book, I just moved here, and I need to find my way around town. Also, why waste your money on someone you hate and who might not even appreciate it when I will?"

This time he guffawed. "Well, my sister also recommended this book." He scanned her face, contemplating the situation. Then with a choked laugh, he ran his fingers through his hair and said, "And despite my protests, I've been asked to be nice. Books are the only thing I can think of as a neutral gift that won't cause her to get any ideas about my motivation."

Her lips pursed. "Hmm." No doubt, women questioned his motivation for lots of things.

I really should just take the book and go.

But I'm also having fun.

She sighed and let go of the book, then reached into her purse. "All right, we'll flip for it."

"Beg your pardon?"

Pausing in her search for a coin, she smirked. "You know. Flip a coin." She pulled out a quarter. "Heads or tails?"

He crossed his arms. "But I was here first."

She shrugged. "I didn't see you holding it. Until someone buys it, it belongs to the store. Heads or tails?"

What am I even doing right now?

Am I flirting?

Yeah, I think I'm flirting . . . with the guy who has at least two girlfriends.

Yet something about him made her want to keep talking to him.

Grudgingly, he nodded. "Fine. Heads."

She flipped the coin, but it tumbled to the floor between them, then rolled to a stop. They both ducked down to look.

Oh great.

He'd won.

Not that I'm going to give up that easily.

"Heads, I win!" She fist-pumped in victory.

The guy snatched the coin. "In what universe does calling the correct side mean you lose?"

"The one where you're stealing my book." She laughed. "We didn't define what heads means. It could mean you lose."

"I say best two out of three," he grunted back. "You completely lost, and this is me being merciful."

She held out her hand for her coin. "Fine, best two out of three. But my rules. And I already won the first round."

He placed the quarter in her hand, his fingertips brushing hers for the second time. Their eyes locked, and goose bumps rose on her arms. What the hell is going on here? Besides the complete absurdity of the two of them squatting on the bookshop floor for this.

An unsmiling man approached, and they both looked up. Just when Liddy was sure he was about to scold them for being on the store floor, he instead reached past them, sniffing in disdain, and lifted the book in question from the shelf.

The hot guy exchanged a look with Liddy.

They both scrambled from the floor as the man started away, the guidebook in his hands.

The guy caught up with him in a few steps. "Excuse me." He touched the man's elbow, and the older man stiffened.

"Sorry." Hot guy raked his fingers through his hair. "Sorry—I—uh, I was going to buy that book."

"And so was I," Liddy added as she reached them.

Not an ounce of sympathy appeared on the man's face. "Well, have a chat with the owner. Perhaps there's another copy." The man started forward again.

Liddy groaned. Why is this the most popular book here? "But we were there first?—"

"Not now, love." The hot guy put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. She gave him a baffled look, and he dropped his hand, winking.

"Sir, if I could just have a moment of your time." The hot guy stepped in front of the man once again. "It's my girlfriend's first time in London. And I promised her I'd buy her this book and that we'd follow it from the first page to the last. I have a whole thing planned for it, but it's all based on this book. Which I need."

Why was he trying to get this book so much?

Maybe he deserves it.

Or he's just really competitive.

Either way, he amused her.

Then the hot guy blurted out, "I'll give you twenty quid if you let me have that copy."

The man gave him a baffled look. Then his lips drew to a line. "Fifty."

"Done." The hot guy reached into his pocket.

Sixty dollars?

To win a guidebook? Hot guy is insane.

After he'd retrieved the book, the hot guy gave her a victorious smile as he paid for it at the register.

But she smiled and held out her hands, palms up, and shrugged. "All right. You win. The book is yours. Nice job."

She looked down at her watch. Damn. She had that welcome dinner in— shit—twenty minutes.

She was never late. And if she wasn't early, she considered herself late. "I have to go. Nice to meet you."

"I have a boring business meeting first, but you wouldn't want to get drinks later, would you?" the hot guy said in a rush.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I can't. I have plans tonight. Soon actually." She walked backward toward the door. "And anyway, you already have plans with Vivienne."

He followed her. "They're not important."

"Well, mine are."

"Boyfriend?" He took another step toward her.

She shook her head and stopped.

She wasn't the girl who purposely went for the jerks in life, but it was nice to be desired by the hot guy. Even going for drinks would be fun. New city...maybe a new friend.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pen. Flipping to the end of the book, he wrote his phone number on the last page. Then he closed the book and held it out to her. "I'm only giving you this book under the condition that we take a rain check on the drinks. My number's in here."

He's asking me out.

Even though she was flattered, she was determined not to make it easy for him. After all, he didn't seem like the sort of guy who was told no often.

She hesitated, then nodded and took the book, sharing a warm smile with him. "What if I have a rule against writing in books?"

"Do you?"

"Yes." She held his gaze. "But I'll make an exception."

"You sure I can't convince you to cancel your plans? Go out with me instead," he said, his voice a rough scratch, his piercing gaze almost commanding it.

And if I didn't have that welcome dinner, I completely would.

For which she really needed to get going.

As smoothly as she could, she slipped the book into her purse and said, "I should go."

Liddy left the bookshop, willing herself not to go back as she hurried toward the restaurant. Two blocks later, she realized she'd never asked the hot guy his name.

Idiot.

She paused, then pulled the book out of her bag. On the last page, she found the black ink and bold scrawl with his phone number and his name, Cal.

She closed the book, holding it to her chest for a moment before she gave an excited squeal.

Maybe London would be a fresh start after all. And it was such a good first meeting. He definitely had a bad-boy side, no doubt, but he'd also made her go weak in the knees. And that wasn't nothing either.

The restaurant where she was supposed to meet Aiden and her new coworkers from Camden Enterprises loomed close by. Aiden had told her he'd rented the event space upstairs, but he waited for her near the doorway.

Aiden gave her a giant smile as she approached. "Has anyone ever told you that you have an uncanny resemblance to an American country singer?" Aiden teased.

She laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like some Goody Two-shoes English viscount who is well-known for his international nonprofit endeavors?"

"Oh, touché." Aiden winked. As the younger siblings of overachieving and successful older siblings, Aiden and Liddy had bonded over their shared woe at having been born second. No matter what they achieved, Elle and Quinn would both outshine them. Although they both tried to avoid stroking their egos, Liddy knew how lucky she was to have such an amazing sister.

"Ready to meet the team?" Aiden asked, adjusting his collar as he walked inside. "They're all really lovely and keen on meeting you. Mason's girlfriend, Rebecca, is in your department. She's a good one to get to know and show you the ropes. And I hear one of the other women, Miranda, is looking for a new flatmate if you still need someone to share the costs of your flat."

"Oh, wow. That would be great, Aiden. Thank you for that."

"No problem. Let's go."

The news that Mason Camden had a girlfriend who would be working with her was welcome. All the Camden brothers were equally nice to Liddy, and if Aiden liked Mason's girlfriend, it was a good sign. And that there might be a flatmate, too. Today seems to be my lucky day.

They went through a busy bar area and then headed up a stairwell. A flutter of nerves rumbled in Liddy's stomach, reminding her once again that she probably should have eaten. The scent of food hung heavily in the air, but she couldn't identify it—though Granny had once told her that a fried onion could be just as alluring in smell as a five-star dinner, and she wasn't wrong about that.

The event space was crowded, and Liddy picked out the familiar faces of Quinn's brothers, Mason and Logan, near the front. They all looked alike, really. Quinn's parents were also there, but that's where the familiar people ended.

As Aiden introduced Liddy to the strangers in the room, her head spun. She could hardly keep up with the names, let alone the polite inquiries and who she'd already told about how her flight went or when she'd moved over from the States.

Anxiety bloomed in her.

Moving to a new country is more terrifying than I thought.

She didn't know anyone outside of the Camdens.

Feeling slightly ill, she excused herself from an introduction, made a beeline for the bar, and then set her hands on it. "I'll have a glass of white wine," she told the bartender.

Beside her, a man shifted and turned to give her a smile. "You're the guest of honor, aren't you?"

She nodded, and he turned, holding out a hand. "Luca Harris. We'll be coworkers. Different departments, though."

"I'm Liddy Winnick." She shook his hand.

He had a kind smile, his sandy-blond bangs sweeping low over his eyes. He pushed it back to reveal soft blue eyes. "You're a brave one, working for Scott. Don't tell Aiden I said so, but Scott's the toughest sod at Camden Enterprises."

"Oh, that's a relief," Liddy said with a sarcastic laugh. She shook her head. "And here I was feeling overwhelmed with just meeting people."

Luca smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing a good job at helping you relax when clearly you just need a drink. Let's try again." He held out a hand. "Luca Harris. Always with my foot in my mouth and perpetually in the wrong place at the wrong time. I also tend to make an arse out of myself."

Somehow, his self-deprecating humor did make her feel better.

Maybe because I can relate to it.

"Nice to meet you," she said with a more genuine smile this time. "I . . . have social anxiety and always feel like an outsider."

"Perfect." Luca winked and took a swig from his beer. "Just what we need at Camden Enterprises. You'll fit in perfectly with us nutters."

She laughed, feeling immediately more at ease.

"Liddy, there you are," Aiden said from behind her. "I wanted to introduce you to the head of your department." Yikes. Her boss.

She turned toward him, and her smile froze at the sight of the man beside Aiden.

The hot guy from the bookshop.

Her heart gave a heavy lurch.

What are the chances?

And then she thought about his words, causing a seed of dread to form in the pit of her stomach.

". . . she can start by proving she deserves to be there . . ."

". . . And now you want me to accept some twat . . ."

". . . for some glorified intern I'm being forced to work with. I'm an arsehole and will do my best to see her fired in the first month."

She blinked, swallowing hard as she searched the guy's handsome face. Red had crept into his neck, but his eyes were like flint now, not an ounce of the friendliness from before.

I'm the twat.

I'm the one he doesn't want working for him.

Aiden looked from Liddy to her boss. "Liddy, this is Callum Scott."

Callum offered her a cool smile, a warning in his eyes. "Welcome to Camden Enterprises, Miss Winnick." He held out his hand toward her.

That piercing, confident gaze that had ordered her before to cancel her plans and go to dinner with him seemed to command something else right now: Don't say a word.

Acid burned in her throat.

If he'd been anyone else...

Despite her anger, she could handle this gracefully.

She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Scott," she said in a monotone voice.

He gave a nod as though to say, Good job. Then he turned and went farther down the bar without another word.

Aiden gave her a sheepish look. "Callum's been one of Quinn's best mates since grammar school. But he's not the most social. Don't worry, he'll come around. Hi, Luca."

As Luca and Aiden struck up a conversation, Liddy's head throbbed. Bitter disappointment seeped into her lungs, and she snuck a glance at Callum.

She wished she was the sort of woman who could just march up to him and tell him to fuck off. But he was her new boss. And she was the outsider.

Gritting her teeth, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

A twat?

A glorified intern?

Because . . . why? He didn't even know her.

Asshole.

She dashed the tears away. This is just a minor blip on the radar of moving to a new country, Lid. Do not let his assholery get you down.

She would prove him wrong. This was her new start, and she would not let Mr. Scott destroy this chance.

Even if he pushed her hard at work and tried to make her quit, Callum Scott would never, ever make her want to cry again.

That's for damn sure.