Chapter 1 - Victoria

Victoria

“ Y es, Killian. I love standing on the side of the road in a foreign country to yell at my best friend on the phone. It’s my favorite.”

“You’re clearly unfamiliar with the old saying ‘don’t shoot the messenger,’” he groused with a hint of trepidation.

“Nobody else is in my line of fire at the moment,” I muttered.

“Lucky me.” I could hear his pout. “Look, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. The property isn’t going anywhere. The damn real estate agent certainly isn’t going anywhere. Stop pacing and yelling and pacing and yelling.”

I sighed, drawing a half circle in the gravel with my foot. “It’s annoying. I was told they wanted to meet and discuss all the paperwork tomorrow not today. That’s why I flew in now instead of yesterday with you guys. My mother keeps meddling and making this harder than it should be.”

“I know. That’s what we told the agent this afternoon. If it makes you feel any better, she was very understanding. And she’s fine with meeting you out there tomorrow.”

“Thank you for handling it. Sorry for all the frantic texts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

My heart swelled with undying, unconditional affection for Killian Monroe, my closest friend since childhood. The second he found out I had to fly to England to deal with a long-neglected property my family owned, he jumped at the chance to accompany me. The added bonus was that Killian and his partner, Maxim Hadley, were a package deal, so I had double the support. Plus, they never passed up an opportunity for international travel.

While it comforted me to know I had them, I was still uneasy about actually being here. This cottage I had to deal with had been sitting unused for almost twenty years. I remembered coming here for summer vacations when life was simpler and didn’t have a permanent gray cloud hanging over it.

In its prime, the cottage was charming and quintessentially British, which always made me laugh since we were the typical American family. Well, we used to be.

It belonged to my dad’s side of the family —his parents were from England. After they died, it fell to him. Under different circumstances, he’d have been happy to keep it. But that was then, and this is now.

When my parents divorced, Dad split our family fortune into three equal parts. He took his share, jumped on a plane and ended up somewhere in Greece.

Mom stayed with me because I wasn’t old enough to be on my own. Or that’s the bullshit excuse she’d told herself. She couldn’t look at me without bursting into tears or lashing out. I reminded her too much of my sister and what happened. My twin’s death changed everything.

The money meant for me didn’t officially become mine until I turned eighteen. Once that happened, Mom married the first guy who put up with her for longer than five minutes and moved out. I lived the Ivy League dream at Dartmouth, graduated, moved to Manhattan, and threw myself into working.

“You’re stuck with me,” Killian declared. “Plus, I’m well versed in all things Chase Family Hysteria.”

“Yeah, well, you guys shouldn’t have to be mixed up in my ridiculous family drama. I mean, my mother could just as easily have sent the lawyer’s letter directly to the real estate people here. The woman hasn’t spoken to me in—” I stopped myself from saying the words. All I could do was continue pacing back and forth. The path I made would become a permanent fixture on the side of this road for sure.

In an attempt to quell my jittery nerves, I stopped pacing and soaked in the English countryside. The picturesque view could seduce even the most jaded traveler with its sweeping fields shuddering to life in the burgeoning spring. Weeping willow trees bent to meet the ground in grand gestures and old stone barriers protectively hugged any grass growing too close to the road. Early evening sunshine tinted everything it touched with a golden hue. If I stood still enough —which was challenging at this particular moment in time— it felt magical. Almost otherworldly.

“It looks like Middle Earth,” I mused.

“Hate to break it to you, baby girl, but that was New Zealand. More importantly, Middle Earth doesn’t exist. But Orlando Bloom does, and I’m hoping he’s around here somewhere.”

“Pretty sure he’s in L.A. with Katy Perry.”

The low rumble of an engine slowing down and the sound of tires rolling to a stop on gravel distracted me for half a second. I glanced over and saw a black Land Rover.

“Party pooper,” Killian chuckled. “Where are you anyway? Did you get lost on all those little winding roads? Do you need us to come find you?”

“No. I didn’t get lost.” I kept an eye on the Rover. “And I don’t need both of you to rescue me.”

“We don’t mind. You’re out there all by yourself. Some psycho could kidnap you.”

I rolled my eyes and paced again. “You watch too much Dateline. Nobody’s going to kidnap me. Although, a car just did pull up.”

“Seriously?” He sounded nervous.

“Yeah.” I looked to see if anyone got out yet. Nothing. “Maybe they think this is one of those texting rest stops or whatever. Do those even exist in England?”

“Probably. Listen, get back in your car and get your ass over here.”

“I can’t. You know how I am when all this nervous energy takes over. I’ll be distracted. I need to walk it off.”

“You need to not be alone on the side of the road anymore.”

“Oh my God, Killian. Five minutes. I just need five damn minutes.” I spun around and nearly collided with someone. I blinked, trying to focus on the tall, lean figure standing in front of me.

“Is everything alright here? Do you need me to call you a tow?” An elegant baritone voice wrapped in an English accent invaded my senses.

Blue eyes and a dimple. That’s all I saw at first.

I collected myself and checked out my uninvited guest, absorbing as much detail as I could in the waning sunlight. Clad in jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket, he towered over me. His exterior screamed fine-tuned athlete, or at least someone who made it a point to stay fit. Tousled, dark brown hair rustled slightly in the chilly breeze. Expectant eyes fixed on mine, waiting for an answer.

“No. I’m fine, thank you.” I smiled and moved to a different spot to continue pacing.

“Who are you talking to?” Killian demanded. “Hello? Victoria?”

“The other person who pulled off the road. They wanted to see if I was having car trouble.”

“Creepy? Normal? I need details.”

I squeezed the phone. “Can you not play the role of overprotective best friend please? I can handle myself. ”

“Yeah, yeah. The great Victoria Chase needs no one. We’ve all seen that movie,” Killian sounded annoyed.

“Killian,” I yelled. “I love you to bits but I’m going to hang up. You know how I get. I haven’t been here since I was sixteen. I’m less than twenty-fours away from going to the last place we vacationed together as a family because my mother…” I exhaled harshly. “This is hard for me.”

I turned and crashed hard into a wall of leather. Great. This guy again.

“That’s a first.” His grin revealed a dimple just beneath his left cheek. “I’ve heard stories about people ending up in hospital from walking while using a mobile phone but I never thought I’d become a victim.”

The deep, richness of his voice accomplished two things at once: it soothed my nerves in a way I couldn’t explain while giving me an uncontrollable urge to pull all his clothes off.

“I’m so sorry” was all I could think to say once I regained my ability to speak.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he teased.

“Victoria Chase you better tell me who that is.” Killian’s voice blared.

“Hang on, hang on,” I mumbled into the phone.

There was something about this guy. I allowed myself to study the handsome stranger’s features. The arch of his eyebrows, the aristocratic nose carved right from a Greek statue, the strong, rugged angle of his jaw. The jagged scar above his left eye. And that mouth. Full and sultry with a slight pout. Not a sulky pout. A sexy, enticing pout. It was made for promises and sin, and not necessarily in that order. I could say the same about his striking sapphire eyes. So many promises fringed by long lashes. He appeared to be around my age. Maybe a few years older.

“Just a mildly hot mid-life crisis,” I blurted, staring straight at him.

An amused smile crossed his lips .

My gaze remained fixed on this man’s mouth. He folded his arms, bringing up one hand to stroke his jaw. A silver ring glinted off his thumb when he ran it over his lower lip. My knees almost gave out watching the slow, deliberate movement.

Okay. Side of the road flirting it is.

I was not subtle as I checked him out from head to toe. Was that a tattoo peeking out from the neckline of his shirt? Of course it is.

Despite the casual attire, he exuded a well-bred pedigree. I’d grown up around boys and men like this. The slight air of indifference. The inevitable bursts of charm. He either came from money, made lots of money, or some combination of the two. With that athletic build I’d be willing to bet he played professionally. Probably soccer. Maybe rugby.

But beneath his curated outer layer was something else. I sensed it from the obvious way he stroked his lip and watched my reaction. There’s something about him that’s much more rough around the edges. And it piqued my curiosity.

Killian’s concerned voice broke through the heady fog that’d wrapped around me.

“Tori, it’s getting dark. And—“

“Hold on.”

Tall, dark and mildly-hot walked back to his Land Rover and leaned against it. His inquisitive stare remained focused on me. I lowered the phone, letting Killian’s protests get caught up and swept away on a gentle breeze.

“Everything alright?” the handsome stranger asked again, motioning toward the phone. “Sounded like a pretty intense conversation.”

“How long have you been listening?”

“Not long. But you were doing such an impressive job carving a walking path that I didn’t want to interrupt. I’m assuming you’re not having car trouble. Relationship issues?” His dimple appeared.

Oh, this one thinks he’s smooth. I forced a sweet smile. “Nope. No car trouble. No relationship trouble either. Everything is fine. Thanks for stopping.”

“Everything is fine,” he mimicked. “In my experience, when a person says that they mean the complete opposite.”

“In my experience, indulging in a conversation in the middle of nowhere with a complete stranger is —on a scale of ‘bad idea to run for your life’— not the smartest thing in the world to do.”

“Can’t argue with that I suppose.” He shrugged. “For the record, I don’t like the idea of leaving someone stranded on the side of the road.”

Handsome and good manners. I blinked. Maybe it was the jet lag. Or the weight of all the crap I’d been dealing with the last few weeks. His sincerity found its way through the limited number of cracks in my well-crafted outer shell, affecting me almost as much as his calming tone.

“I’m not stranded.” I felt my shoulders relax and the urge to pace subside. “I’m in the middle of an annoying situation and thought it best to pull over so I don’t wrap the car around a tree.”

“I like this answer better than ‘everything is fine.’ And see?” He spread his arms open and smiled. “It didn’t end with any warped side of the road kidnap plot.”

A small laugh managed to squeak out of me before I could compose myself. If I’d met this guy under different circumstances, I’d one hundred percent spend a significant amount of time flirting with him. And more. But that’s not what this trip is about. Plus, I promised myself I’d ease up on the revolving door of instant physical gratification.

“Do you live around here or do you just drive up and down this road looking for potentially stranded drivers?”

He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. This smile was almost too pretty to be real. Pretty, but not perfect. It was a little crooked which made it even more attractive and seductive. And there was an arrogance behind it that intrigued me. He smiled like he knew I’d be enchanted, like he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist his charm .

“I do live around here occasionally,” he drawled in a tone reserved for expensive boarding schools. “You’re the first person I’ve ever pulled off the road for though.”

“Lucky me.”

Something shifted in the air between us when our eyes locked. My pulse quickened the longer I held his cobalt stare. In that exact moment, he saw me. Really saw me. I self-consciously touched my hair which I’d thrown into a messy bun on the plane. I wish I’d worn something other than my favorite, most comfortable travel outfit —gray yoga pants, white tank top and gray hoodie. He ran his thumb along his lip again in such a way that I felt it at my core, setting off an unexpected wave of sparks.

He checked out my ensemble one more time, let out a breath, and made eye contact. “Did you just arrive here?”

I nodded, more annoyed at the fact I couldn’t articulate an answer than at the actual question.

“Are you staying long?”

Speak out loud, Victoria. Use your damn media relations skills.

“No.”

Yay. A word.

“Well, I hope I’ve given you a decent first impression of the area.”

Oh he’s good with the flirting. Really good. I grinned. “I’m well acquainted with this area but thanks for giving me something new to appreciate.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. The dimple emerged with his wide smile. To anyone else, this would come across as warm and friendly. But I knew this type of smile. I’ve seen it many times before on other guys and recognized the fatal charm beneath it. The major difference this time was the unspoken promise it also revealed. Part of me wished this trip had room for promises and charm.

“Now that your situation has been sorted, I’ll let you finish your phone call.” He pushed himself away from the car. “Drive safe.”

Without breaking eye contact with me, he got back into his Rover and drove off. I watched with a twinge of regret that I’d never hear his voice again. But then I did hear a voice. A tinny, panicked voice coming from my hand.

“Killian, I’m so sorry,” I winced.

“What. The. Actual. Fudge.”

“Still not swearing?”

An exasperated sigh vibrated through my ear. “I already wasted my allotted ten-bucks-per-week limit at the airport yesterday.”

I laughed. “Maxim’s going to get so rich off you and your potty mouth.”

“Anyway.” I could feel his disapproving eye roll. “What happened with the rando? I heard some of what you were saying to him. Is he gone? Was he weird?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he wasn’t a psycho. He just wanted to see if I was having car trouble.”

“I see. So the fact that he was mildly hot had nothing to do with it?”

“Not completely.”

Killian’s soft laugh soothed my frayed nerves. “You are a piece of work. Does he tick all the boxes for you?”

“Knock it off.”

“Get your ass back here. Max and I want to go into town to the pub you’re always telling us about. Plus a few others.”

Back inside the car, I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and readied myself for the remaining drive. The black ribbon of road rolled out in front of me, leading me closer to the place I never thought I’d see again. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the house or my family or my sister. I had to focus. Driving on the left side of the road always kept me more aware of my surroundings. If I let myself zone out, I’d end up in one of these pretty fields, probably inches away from a tree .

One of the last times we were all here together as a family, my dad took us out to teach us how to drive on the left.

Us.

My grip tightened on the steering wheel.

There was no more us. There was only me. And as usual, I was left to my own devices to clean up someone else’s mess.