London Calling: BWWM New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers Book 2) (11 page)

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.

T
orture
. 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.

Screw what Ryan wanted. She had to talk to Charles.
He won’t believe you.
She had to do something. Because rehearsals would be going for weeks and there was no way she’d survive having to stare into his eyes every day. Even she wasn’t that strong.

When the car pulled up to the glass-and-chrome building on the South Bank, Imani peered up at London’s perpetual gray sky. If she craned her head to the left, she could see the London Eye and Westminster. Restaurants and pubs dotted the street, as did boutiques and several corner shops. Behind the sleek, modern building she could clearly see the Thames River with the barges and houseboats floating along. She knew the area well. Just down the way a little bit was the National Theater.

Xander tapped her knee, then immediately yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned. With a tight smile, he cocked his head. “C’mon, let’s go in. We can get you settled, then I’ll send someone to your flat to get anything you need.” He slid out of the car and held a hand out to her, then obviously thought better of it and just stepped aside giving her room.

As she slid out, she glanced up again. “Where are we?”

“My flat.” He said it slowly like he was talking to a child or an imbecile. “Remember? You agreed to this.”

Funny, jackass
. “This isn’t Notting Hill.”

“Oh,” he muttered and glanced down at his shoes. “I don’t live there…” His voice trailed off.

It only took a moment for reality to dawn. “Right.” Apparently that was just his fuck pad.
Fantastic
. What did she even know about this guy besides his name?

Once in the elevator, he touched her elbow gently. “Having second thoughts?”

Yes.
No
. She needed the money and living with him for a couple of weeks wouldn’t kill her. Sex wasn’t part of the bargain, so she could do this. “It’s not that. I’m just realizing I don’t know anything about you besides your name.” She frowned, “Or is that a fake placeholder one too?”

He smirked and Imani forgot to breathe for two beats. “It’s Alexander Andrew Chase.”

She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Imani Leah Brooks.”

He considered for a moment. “Leah, I like it.”

“Looks like we’re doing everything a little backwards.”

His grin flashed and her belly flipped. God, that should be outlawed. He looked so boyish and teasing when he smiled like that. Granted, she also liked the intense version of him very much. She admonished herself as heat pooled between her thighs. That was so not happening.

“Imani?”

She blinked up at him in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Did you hear me?”

Damn it, had he been talking while she ogled him? “Sorry. Just daydreaming. What did you say?”

He looked her up and down. His voice dropped low when he spoke. “Just what were you thinking about, exactly?”

“Oh my God, would you stop with the patented Xander Chase seduction voice? It’s distracting.”

He laughed. “I should have my seduction patented? Wicked. Unlike my brother, I don’t have patents. I’ve always wanted one of my own. So you want to explain just how distracting I am?”

“And swell up you’re enormous head any more? No. I do not.” She laughed.

He cocked his head and winked at her. “Which head would you be talking about?”

Imani covered her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

His laugh made her want to melt into a pile of goo, but she steeled herself against it. If she were going to make it for the next few days with him, she’d have to get used to it.

The elevator let them out on the penthouse level and her breath caught. For starters, the place was huge. So much room she could probably even lose him in there. Everything was hypermodern from the low chairs and chrome fixtures to the white, gray and black palette for all the furniture. But he’d added warmth with the pictures on the walls and the accessories.

The pillows and throw rugs contained an eclectic mix of African, Middle Eastern, and Asian influences. The photos were simply exquisite. Like the accessories, the walls were an eclectic mix of photos from all around the world. “My God, Xander. This is amazing.” There were mostly stunning landscapes, but quite a few candid portraits as well. He also peppered in some abstract work.

A light flush stained his cheeks. “Uh, glad you like it. Just bits and bobs from the places I’ve been. And my favorite photographs.”

“It’s perfect.” She could probably spend days just studying the photos on the walls.

He cleared his throat. “There are two master bedrooms down here and two smaller bedrooms upstairs. I’ll put you in one of the masters if that’s okay. There’s more than enough room. No need for us to be on top of each other.”

Her lips twitched and she couldn’t help herself. “That’s what she said.”

Xander blinked at her once, then again. Then the sound of his laugh ricocheted off the walls of the flat. “Oh my God, I am engaged to a twelve-year-old boy.”

She looked down at her body. “With tits.”

His gaze flickered to her chest, then back to her face again. “You are probably going to be the death of me.”

“Probably.” She shrugged. “So what are my chances that you’ve got a bus schedule around here somewhere? Or can you tell me which way is the nearest tube station? I’ve got to start with some logistics of getting around to rehearsals now that I’ll be staying here.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have a car service take you.”

“You’re kidding, right? I take the bus all the time. The tube too. It’s perfectly safe. If it’s going to be past midnight, I’ll call a mini cab or something.”

He frowned, then folded his arms over his chest. She’d seen that look before. He had no intention on budging. It was the look he’d given her at rehearsal that day. “You’ll take a car. It’s safer, and more convenient for you.”

“I appreciate it. I do. But honestly, I need to figure out how I’m going to do things on my own.”

“You forget you’re playing the part of my fiancée right? And it looks bad if I’ve got you hopping on the bus.”

“Oh come on. That’s just some elitist bullshit.”

He stepped into her space, crowding her. “You realize that the paparazzi can follow you onto a train and there’ll be no getting away from them? Same with a bus.”

“Oh come on, you said it yourself. There should be minimal paparazzi.”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this? Why can’t you just do what I ask?”

Imani jutted her chin out. “Because I don’t like to be told what to do. This is my independence you’re talking about. I need freedom to move about. Go out with the cast, that sort of thing.”

The frown lines on his forehead deepened. “You mean go out with Ryan?”

She would rather be flayed alive, but she wasn’t giving him any more reason to throw his weight around. “Who I go out with is none of your business.”

“It is for the next couple of weeks.”

They were nearly chest to chest now, both of their breathing choppy and uneven. His gaze dipped to her lips. And she licked them in automatic subconscious response. Xander’s pupils dilated and for a long moment he stilled on the precipice of giving her a kiss.

But then he lifted his head and took a very deliberate step backward. His gaze shifted to her eyes and he swallowed. “Please. I’m asking nicely.”

His clear, gray gaze implored her. “Fine. If it will get you off my case.” If this battle of wills was any indication, then it was going to be a long two weeks.

Imani tapped her foot impatiently outside of the rehearsal hall. She'd been trying to reach Charles for two days since she got back, but he hadn’t had any time to meet until now, an hour before she was supposed to go on and rehearse with Ryan.

"Imani, I'm so sorry I couldn't meet until now. As you can imagine, there is a lot of press surrounding the show, so I’ve been working with marketing and PR. How is my star doing?"

"Hi, Charles. Is there any way we can go in to chat for a minute?"

"Sure." He led her in and turned on the lights illuminating the stage. There was something about seeing the spotlight on the stage that always relaxed her. It was the one place she felt like home. Like she could explore every single thing she was feeling in a safe way. In real life she had generally learned to block out the less pleasant emotions by working hard and burying them deep.

Once they were seated in one of the center rows, he asked, "What’s going on with you, Imani? Normally you don’t let an upcoming show stress you out.”

"Who says I’m stressed?"

He raised a brow. "Besides being your advisor, I saw your audition tape. I hand-selected you to be in the program. I fought for you to stay. I know
you
."

She sighed. Not as well as he thought he did. "Okay, I'm sorry to have to come to you with this, but—" She paused, trying to find the best words to use. "Ryan and I, we—”

His smile was fatherly and endearing when he interrupted her. “You used to go out? Imani, I know that already. You two were very discreet at the time and I figured it was none of my business if it didn't interfere with your studies or your performance. And to be honest, he told me about it when I cast him. He didn’t want there to be any tension between you two."

Ryan had preempted her? What had the sack of lying, festering shit said? "I didn't know he'd already spoken to you."

"Yes, he explained that your relationship was...volatile, but that you had mostly worked through your issues and you'd be able to work together."

No, they would not be able to work together. She ground her teeth as she willed her body to still. Volatile? Is that what he called it? What he'd done to her? As if they were just a passionate couple who fought?

"Charles, I assure you that I'm a professional and I can do my job. And I don't know what he told you exactly, but I have real concerns about working with him."

Her mentor's brows drew down. "I don’t understand."

"I—" She held her breath; what she said today would determine her future. Would he believe her? Maybe if she'd been the first to speak to Charles then he would be more likely to. But right now it would look like sour grapes. Or worse, like she was being a diva.

Charles would determine the trajectory of her career. A career Ryan had already started to establish. But she was smart enough to know she couldn’t be alone with the asshole. Thinking fast she said, “I just mean that given our past, to keep the rumors quiet, maybe we don’t rehearse alone. My concern is for the integrity of the show." Her throat burned with the need to say the words out loud.
He raped me
.
He held me down when I said no and forced me to have sex with him and then he told me there was nothing I could do about it because I was his girlfriend and no one would believe me.

But she couldn’t spit out those words. Instead she spoke about the show and what it meant to her. She was a liar. But she was not going to be anyone's victim. Especially not Ryan’s. Charles studied her, but then nodded. "I can see where you’re going. A play like this, the media will be all over it if they thought you were in a romantic relationship in real life." He seemed to consider the idea. "I mean it wouldn’t really hurt if you were. It might even boost interest.”

“No.” Something vile and insidious wrapped around her spine. She would not do that. "Not going to happen, Charles. It's about the play.” Then she threw out the one thing she had in her pocket. "Besides, I'm with Xander Chase."

His brows popped up. "I was under the impression you’d only met that day."

“We were trying to keep things quiet.” Technically true. "It's been sort of whirlwind. So you see, there’s no chance of cozy publicity shots with Ryan. But I want to keep the integrity regardless."

"It's an odd request, but if I can accommodate Ryan’s private dressing room, I can do this for you. We'll have a PA on hand who can even live tweet rehearsals or whatever. Keep the social media interest up."

She breathed a small sigh of relief. Not what she'd been looking for. She should have anticipated that he would try to hamstring her ever telling anybody, but she knew what he'd done to her. She might have to work with him for the sake of her future, but she was walking in with her eyes wide open, knowing the devil she was working with. There would be no cozy rehearsals, just the two of them. And she was packing pepper spray for sure. It didn't matter what she had to do, she was never going to be that naive girl again the one who trusted so blindly. Nor was she going to roll over and play dead.

This was her show, her chance to shine. She was not going to be afraid. Not of that asshole. She was stronger than he was. She had to be.

“Thank you, Charles. I appreciate it."

The door to the hall opened and she could see the figure backlit in the doorway. Her stomach rolled and she swallowed hard.
Breathe, Imani. You can do anything
.
You can survive anything
. It was time to go to work.