Chapter 3
DON’T CRY, SWEET GIRL
Declan
“Bloody hell.” I raked my fingers through my hair and peeked at Sally, who, justifiably so, was shooting daggers at me.
“What the fuck, Declan? You invited her?”
“Sally.”
“Callie.”
“Right. Callie.” I waved my hand in dismissal. “Not that it matters, but I obviously didn’t invite her.”
Callie shook her head at me, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Her tits did a little bounce. A few months back, I would’ve pounced on that. Maybe even let the girl in the back seat join in. Lately, though, I just wasn’t feeling it anymore.
“She obviously knows you. She called you Declan.” She furrowed her brows.
I recognized the look in her eyes. Shit.
This was why I never slept with the same woman twice.
Callie was jealous of a total stranger. I got that a drunk girl in the back seat of my car wasn’t a good look for me, but I didn’t owe Callie anything.
I only agreed to leave the club with her because I didn’t want to go home to an empty condo.
I leaned back and cut a glance over to the mop of hair sprawled on the white leather of my Bentley Coupe and my first thought was: Fuck me, I hope she doesn’t throw up on the brand-new carpet.
I slow blinked. What had my life become? The bar scene was getting old. I was getting old. At thirty-two, I should have more to show for myself.
“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Callie shoved my shoulder. “Either she goes, or I go.”
Suddenly, I felt drained and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. “You should go, love.”
The passed-out girl was the lesser of two evils at this point. Or at the very least, easier to deal with than a jealous non-girlfriend. Note to self: Never leave the bar with the same woman twice.
“My friend was right. You’re the biggest jerk.” She yanked her purse off the dashboard and climbed out of the car.
I released a slow breath and shifted my attention to the girl passed out on the seat.
With the same caution one would approach a wounded animal, I slowly reached for her hair and carefully brushed it off her face.
Jesus, she was so beautiful and so young.
Was she even old enough to drink? Great.
This was definitely not a good look for me.
I glanced around through the windows. The last thing I needed was the tabloids snapping photos of me leaving a sex club with a drunk girl that might or might not be old enough to drink.
“Hey, love. Wake up.” I swiped the pad of my thumb over her soft, pink cheek. “You really are pretty.”
What had she called me? Hot and lickable. I chuckled. In the next breath, drunk girl sat up, eyes wide like saucers. She stared at me as if she couldn’t figure out if I was real or not. She even reached out with her hand and patted the side of my face.
“Do you have a name, love?” I peeled her hand off me.
“Isla.” She mumbled.
“Good. Well, Isla, you need to go home. Plenty of cabs around here. I’ll go get the bouncer.”
Her eyes watered, and her bottom lip turned down into a sexy pout. “I don’t want to go home. He’ll be there. But now he’s gone forever.”
That made absolutely no sense. Or maybe I didn’t hear her correctly.
Either way, what she’d said didn’t matter.
I had to take her somewhere. Technically, she wasn’t my problem, but contrary to Callie’s belief, I wasn’t the biggest jerk.
I was a jerk, just not the biggest. And certainly not the kind who would leave a girl in trouble to fend for herself.
Manhattan wasn’t the safest place at one in the morning.
“No, don’t cry.” I patted her head, but it was no use.
Fat tears streamed down her cheeks while she mumbled a bunch of things I didn’t quite catch.
There was some Steve bloke who had done something to her.
Did he hit her? Acid pooled at the pit of my stomach at the thought of a man hitting a woman. “Don’t cry, sweet girl.”
I couldn’t stand the tears. Tears were my kryptonite.
Fuck me. I was going to regret this in the morning.
I shifted my body so I could reach the seat belt and buckled her in.
I hit the ignition button and pulled away from the curb, heading home.
As far as plans went, I had none. But I figured once Isla was sober, she would be able to give me an address.
Maybe she could crash on a friend’s couch for a few days until she figured out her Steve problem.
And this was why since college my friends had nicknamed me “the fixer.” In all these years, I had yet to walk away from a problem.
I gripped the steering wheel, mentally scripting what I would say to the doorman when I got home.
He was used to seeing me come home with a date or two, but Isla was too drunk and too young. Her presence needed an explanation.
A loud double honk brought me back to reality.
I did a quick check to make sure I wasn’t driving on the wrong side of the street.
I’d spent enough time in the States that driving felt natural now, but every now and then, I did have to check myself.
When I glanced toward the back seat, I swerved out of my lane and scraped the curb before I got back on the road.
The sight of Isla’s ass leaning over the backseat window threw me off. Was she gagging?
“Fuck me, Isla. Get inside.” I steadied the car, trying to keep my eyes on Isla and the road ahead. I had one car riding my ass, and the other honking at me, so I couldn’t pull over.
I stretched out my arm and grabbed nothing but air.
On the next try, her flowy skirt brushed my fingers, but Isla managed to get away from me as she tipped farther down.
She was about to fall out of my car. I tried my hardest not to notice her shapely legs and the sexy curve of her ass.
Was that a beauty mark right on the side of her butt cheek?
For the second time, the asshole honking at us brought me to my senses. I let go of the wheel for a second and reached for Isla’s skirt. This time I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her dress and yanked her back.
“Good God, woman. Do you want to die tonight? Stay in your seat.” The stern tone in my voice did the trick. She sat up, fixed her dress, and even stopped crying. Good. Now we were getting somewhere. I cut a quick glance toward her. “Tell me where to take you.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes.
“No, no, no. Don’t go back to sleep.”
It was no use. She was gone—eyes open or closed—she was gone. I drove the rest of the way to my building and pulled into the parking garage. Maybe I could tell Frank, the doorman, that she was my niece. No that would be creepy. Who did that?
I pulled into my reserved spot, climbed out of the Bentley, and strode around to open the door for Isla.
I took the time to really look at her now.
She wore a simple cocktail dress that hugged her tits just right.
Her long legs had cuts and scrapes from when she was hanging out the window.
My insides twisted at the idea that she would get this wasted because some asshole didn’t treat her right.
“Where are your shoes?” I patted her cheek. “Did you take them off? How the hell am I supposed to explain you to Frank when you’re not even wearing shoes?”
I bent over to look under the seat. Then she decided to wake up and rub those long legs across my face. “It’s been too long,” she mumbled.
“I’m sorry, what?” I lifted my head to look at her. And God help me if I didn’t recognize that look in her eyes. I could barely handle crying Isla. I was quite sure I wouldn’t be able to handle sultry Isla.
She pulled down one strap with clumsy hands and flashed a mouthwatering nipple and yep, another beauty mark.
This one sat right on the curve of her ample breast. Instant images of the matching beauty mark she had on her ass reeled through my head like a movie.
My cock stirred in my trousers. But more than that, an intense desire unfurled below my navel, something I hadn’t felt before.
I stared at her hanging tit then realized her other one was about to make an appearance as well. Shit.
“Please, don’t take off your clothes.” I wrapped my hand around her wrists, maybe tighter than I needed to, and fixed the top of her dress. “How about a nice tall glass of water?” And an ice-cold shower for me.
“You’re a tall glass of water.” She freed her hands and cupped my face.
When she leaned in to kiss me, I almost stayed there and let her.
But I couldn’t do that to her. She seemed like a nice girl.
No doubt she would hate herself for all this in the morning.
I searched the car for her shoes and finally found them on the front seat.
She must’ve thrown them there at some point.
With my cock still pushing hard on my zipper, I helped her with her pumps, then out of the car.
“Can you walk? We’re just going through there.
” I pointed toward the lobby. Luckily, Frank wasn’t at the front desk, which was a good thing because Isla fell into my arms as soon as we entered the building.
I adjusted her weight against my body and carried her the rest of the way to the lift.
“Just going up a few floors and then we’ll get you some water and a bed. ” I said that mostly to myself.
She nuzzled her face in the nook of my neck and shoulder, and I couldn’t help but take in a big gulp of her fruity scent.
Jesus, she smelled good. I spent twenty-five floors and a walk down a long corridor trying to figure what her perfume was.
“What is that scent?” I asked her even though she was too far gone to hear me.
When we arrived at my door, Isla stirred in my arms, so I set her down.
She was sort of awake again. What the hell did she have to drink back at the Crucible that she was in and out of consciousness like this?
I pushed the door open, and she strolled inside, straight toward the large windows facing the city.
At this time, the city was beginning to wind down and only a few lights twinkled in the distance.
I rushed to the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
“I bet you’re tired.” A trick I’d seen my sister use with her toddler whenever she wanted him to lay down for a nap. It worked with him every time, and now it seemed to have worked with Isla as well.
She nodded with sleepy eyes and let me usher her to the sofa.
I grabbed the chenille throw blanket laying on the cushion and pulled it over her shoulder.
With a sigh, she mumbled a thank you and cuddled herself into a ball, wrapping the cover tightly around her.
She seemed so small and alone. This hit way too close to home.
Whatever problems she had going on with her boyfriend or at home, I couldn’t get involved.
Tomorrow, I would put her in a cab and forget this whole night ever happened.
The next morning, I lay in bed for a good half hour before I plucked up the courage to get up and deal with the drunk girl in my living room. I supposed by now she would be more hungover than drunk. I finished washing up in the bathroom then headed out.
To my surprise, she had already taken off.
For a split second, I wondered if maybe I was the one who had gotten crazy drunk last night and dreamed the whole thing.
The chenille throw was back in its place, the glass of water I’d given her was also put away.
I rubbed the back of my neck and looked around the apartment.
I was quite sure there had been a girl in here last night.
Bloody hell, this was why I stayed away from relationships. Women were just too fucking complicated, and I didn’t have time for that kind of bullshit. I had work to do. Which reminded me, I was already late for my first day at Nicolas’s company.
I strode to my bedroom and got dressed quickly in a tailored dark suit that intimidated most people.
I liked starting new projects that way. I wasn’t here to make friends.
I was in the States to fix Nicolas’s security breach, not pine over a girl with a sexy beauty mark on her ass cheek and another one to match on her perfect cleavage.
Shaking my head, I adjusted my watch and forced every last detail of the night before out of my mind. I headed downstairs and made my way to the front desk. Frank’s head snapped up as if he could sense me coming. “Good morning, Mr. Noble. Your service car is ready.”
“Thank you, and good morning to you, too.” I made to leave but then turned around. “You weren’t here last night.”
“No, my daughter was in town. I took her out for a nice dinner.” He stood taller, and his grin widened.
“How is Emma?”
“Great. Great. She’s aced all her classes. She’s loving California. It’s too bad she couldn’t stay longer.” Frank shrugged.
The thought of young Emma immediately made me think of Isla again. “You must be so proud.” I hesitated for a moment, but the words left my lips before I could really process the question or my reason for asking. “Let me ask you, did you see a woman leave the building early this morning?”
“I got here at seven. No one has come through except you just now.” He picked up the receiver. “If you’d like I can check in with the previous doorman.”
“No. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I gestured toward my waiting car. “I’m late for work.”
“Oh, allow me.” He rushed to open the lobby door and then escorted me to the black SUV.
“Thank you, Frank.” I sat back and smiled. Maybe Isla had been just a dream.
The driver made record time to the building where Windsor Financial Holdings had their offices.
I rode the elevator to the twentieth floor and then headed straight to Nicolas’s corner office.
I had met him a few years back at the Soho House when he was still single.
We hung out many nights and got to know each other well.
These days he was married and even had a baby.
The poor bastard. To each his own, I supposed.
“Declan.” Nicolas came out of his office to greet me with a tight hug. “Welcome back.”
“It’s good to be back.” I glanced around the place, taking in the modern furnishings and new carpet.
“Let me walk you to your office. Casey was here all week making sure everything was as you had requested. Man, she can be a real ball-buster.” He chuckled.
“That’s why she makes the big bucks.”
Casey was my chief of staff. I trusted her implicitly. If she said my office and team were all set for me to get started, I knew it would be.
“Here we are.” He gestured toward the woman sitting outside my office.
“Oh, bloody hell.”