“London . . .” he whispered gruffly in her ear, then took hold of her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze.
“You’re having problems. I think Xander is, too. He’s had five thousand lovers. You’ve had a handful.” She drew in a shaky breath and bucked up her courage. “I’ve never had one. I’m overwhelmed.”
Javier sat up straighter in the bed, shock transforming his face. “You’re a . . . virgin?”
“Yes. Long story. A lot of reasons. I’m ready to change, but at my speed.”
He nodded. “I’d be good to you. I can be damn patient.”
“You’re trying to steal me away from your own brother?”
Wincing, Javier took another bite of his sandwich, washing it down with the water. “Women are like rest stops to Xander. When he finds one, he hops in, relieves himself, then heads back down the road to find another. You deserve better.”
Interesting analogy. “I wasn’t looking for a commitment, just sex. But you’re still my boss. Mixing business and pleasure . . . not such a good idea.”
“It’s a cliché. Everyone is different. I know you met Xander first and that he’s—” Javier swallowed as if digesting a painful thought—“touched you. He’ll find a new girl tomorrow. Me? You’re the first thing I’ve given a damn about in years.”
Chapter Nine
LONDON left Javier’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her, looking pale and tense. Xander dropped her suitcase and his brother’s briefcase right where he stood and charged over to her.
“What happened?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Nothing.”
The Dom in him wanted to punish her for lying, but she hadn’t agreed to submit to him, or sleep with him, or even go on a date with him. That rankled. Still, he couldn’t let her distress slide. “I can handle the truth.”
“I’m fine.”
Brushing past him, she plucked up her suitcase, then rolled it through the kitchen and the den, then down the hallway to the other two bedrooms. Naturally, she chose the most feminine one, decorated in cream, blush, and plum with lots of mirrors and crystals, hinting at a graceful sophistication. Xander followed.
“I can help you,” he insisted. “Let me take what’s troubling you off your shoulders.”
She stopped, her shoulders losing their starch. “It’s just something I have to work out in my head. Thanks, though. The good news is, Javier is finally asleep.”
Clearly, she wasn’t going to share. Xander tried not to take her lack of trust in him personally, but since he was the only other person in the room, he failed miserably. But pushing her wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
“Are you hungry, belleza? Can I take you out for something to eat?” Maybe they could talk there. She could relax with a nice glass of wine, and they could clear the air. “There’s a lovely French place—”
“We can’t leave your brother. How about calling for pizza? I need to look at all the stuff Javier had scattered across his desk and see what’s critical or has an immediate deadline.”
Not exactly the seduction he had in mind. Xander had gone to Luc and Alyssa’s house full of plans. London needed to hear how beautiful she was. She needed to feel wanted. But everything had turned to shit the second he’d seen her clutching Javier’s hand.
From what he could tell, London had done all the right things to help his brother. After Navarro’s visit and the ensuing Cîroc, her decision to get Javier out of the office had been a godsend. If not for London, what would have happened? Would his brother have found another bottle and finally drank himself to death?
London was right; Javier shouldn’t be left alone. Once upon a time, Xander would have happily left his older brother to take care of himself—and everything else. He usually did it so well. But Javi had suffered a huge blow today. Guilt was eating him alive, and Xander knew his brother would take on even more for the life forming in Fran’s womb that had been suddenly snuffed out.
But the timing just frustrated the hell out of Xander. He’d finally found London after days of searching. He was beginning to get closer to her and slowly winning her over. Javier now stood squarely in his way. How long before his brother pulled his head out of his ass and came after her, too? His guess was not long at all. Javier felt protective of London—at the very least. After all, she was his employee, but Xander didn’t think that was the basis for his brother’s care.
The whole situation had thrown him a curveball. Xander had to think fast or he’d lose London before he even had her. Luc’s advice suddenly echoed in his head.
Share her.
“Let me help.” He nodded to the briefcase.
London looked like she wanted to say yes, but she shook her head as she picked it up, brushed past him, and headed to the kitchen. “He’d kill me.”
Xander followed. “No offense, but you’ve worked there a few hours. I’ve been around this company my whole life. I own half of it, so your NDA can’t actually apply to me. Contrary to what Javier thinks, I’m not useless.”
“I never meant to imply that you were.” She looked horrified he might think that. Still, she hesitated, clearly weighing the pros and cons in her head. Finally, she dragged the briefcase to the table and set it in the middle. “I know who makes a great pizza in this town. If you call them, I’ll spread this out, and we’ll get started.”
Xander wanted to celebrate with a fist pump. He was getting to spend time with London and dig into the family business. Being excited about the first made sense. His belleza was gorgeous, and his first taste of her had merely whetted his appetite. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her again. If she gave him half the chance, he’d spread her across the kitchen table, take off that fetching little innocent-miss dress, and make a banquet of her body faster than she could blink.
But he was also thrilled to finally get a shot to participate in the business his family had spent two generations building. He hated feeling distant and useless. Resenting Javier just wore on him. If the booze had taken his brother under, then Xander was more than happy to step in until Javier was well.
London rattled off the name of a local Italian place that delivered, and he looked it up on his phone, dialing as they discussed their favorite toppings. As he ordered, he watched her spread papers out into neat piles all over the table, occasionally gnawing her lip or making clucking sounds until she’d been through everything in the briefcase.
“The last thing I did before lunch today was talk to Doug Maynard—”