My Wicked Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 6) Page 3

  He nods. “I’ll never get married again.” His voice holds a tang of bitterness. I’m not surprised. I can imagine feeling the same way if I’d had a messy divorce.

  I don’t want to bring him down and decide to change the subject. “Did you ever call her Sam?” I ask curiously. It seems a bit long-winded to say Samantha every time.

  He laughs. “Noooooo. Never. When we first met, she told me, ‘My name’s Samantha, not Sam, and definitely not Sammy.’”

  “I’m sure she’s perfectly lovely,” I tell him, “but she sounds a bit…”

  “High maintenance?” he suggests.

  “…of a tight-ass, I was going to say. You know, with all due respect.”

  “Yeah,” he says with a sigh, “she is. You’re absolutely right.”

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d kill for a figure like hers. It must be nice not to have to wear a bra that’s like two buckets tied together.”

  He gives a short laugh. “Clio…”

  “What? You must have noticed that I’m not lacking in the boob department.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

  I look at him and raise my eyebrows. He glances at me. “What?”

  “You’ve noticed?”

  “I’m a straight man, Clio. And you’re gorgeous. Of course I’ve noticed.”

  The compliment surprises me and sends a tingle all the way from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

  “I do. But not only did Leon give me the lecture when I started at the Ark about not having relationships in the workplace, you’re also his baby sister. I’ve mentally put a big red circle over your head and drawn a line through it from day one.”

  “Aw,” I reply, “my brother sure knows how to suck the fun out of everything.”

  He chuckles. “He’s probably right about the workplace thing.”

  “Despite the fact that he’s living with his PA?”

  “Well, yeah, I know it could seem a tad hypocritical…”

  “You think?” I say sarcastically.

  “Well, luckily for him it worked out. It wouldn’t have been so great if it hadn’t.”

  “Like with Hal and Rosie,” I say. I wasn’t in the surgery the day Hal’s ex blew a fuse, but I’ve heard the horror stories.

  “Yeah. I heard she made quite a scene.”

  “Leon must have popped a vein when that happened.”

  “Understandably so.”

  “Where did you meet Samantha?”

  “At university,” he replies. “I was taking computer science and she was studying law, but we had mutual friends.”

  “I can see why you fell for her,” I say honestly. “Was it love at first sight for her, too?”

  He gives a long sigh. “I would’ve said I don’t think she’s capable of love, but she told me today she’s seeing someone else. So I guess it’s just that she wasn’t capable of loving me.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did.”

  “It’s okay. You’ve had a pretty tough day.”

  “Even so, it’s over, and I refuse to descend into self-pity.” He grips the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “I’m better off without her.”

  “Absolutely,” I tell him cheerfully. “And I tell you what—this weekend we’re going to get drunk as skunks and eat all Leon’s magnificent food, and dance the night away tomorrow. Screw everyone else.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, screw everyone else.”

  “I am sorry, though,” I tell him. “For what you’ve been through. Breakups are hard at the best of times, but an eight-year marriage coming to an end? That must be tough.”

  “It is, a bit.”

  “They say divorce is the next most stressful thing to having a relative die, don’t they? I suppose it is a death, in a way. Of a relationship, and of all the hopes and dreams you have when you first get together.”

  He doesn’t say anything, and I realize I’ve probably gone too far.

  “Sorry,” I say again. “My mouth runs away with me. I need to learn to shut up when I’ve made my point.”

  “It’s okay.” He reaches out and holds my hand briefly. “Actually, it’s nice to have you with me. I had visions of having to drive all the way to Dunedin on my own; that would have been pretty lonely.”

  “Instead, we can sing badly to old rock songs and cry at all the love songs,” I tell him, warmed by his touch. “It should be fun.”

  To my relief, he smiles. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he does that. He thinks I’m gorgeous.

  And that’s when I firm my resolve to go through with my plan. I’m going to have sex with Ryan King this weekend. Whether he thinks it’s a good idea or not.

  Chapter Four

  Ryan

  Clio offers her phone for some music, Bluetooths it to the BMW, and puts on a playlist, and soon the two of us are singing away to an eclectic range of songs. It could be worse. It’s a beautiful afternoon, the sun’s beaming down, and summer’s just around the corner. The car is a joy to drive, purring along. And Clio is a delight.

  One reason I bought the convertible for myself is because Samantha hated soft-tops because they messed up her hair, but Clio doesn’t seem to care that her blonde mop is being whipped around by the wind. She’s wearing big sunglasses that make her look like a fifties film star. She’s not as stunningly beautiful as Samantha, but unlike my ex, she’s completely natural. I don’t mean her hair, which Clio obviously dyes, or her makeup, because she likes her black eyeliner. I mean there’s not an ounce of pretentiousness or affectation about her. What you see is very much what you get. She would be the first to admit she has trouble vetting what comes out of her mouth, but after years of living with someone who thought through everything before she said it, and who wouldn’t say anything that wouldn’t win her points or further her case, it’s incredibly refreshing.

  I don’t know Clio that well, because we haven’t seen much of each other over the past fifteen years or so, just the occasional meetup at family barbecues or christenings. I remember her as a kid. She’s the youngest of the Kings, and everyone has always treated her like a baby sister and indulged her. Because of that she tended to act a little spoiled, and I remember her having tantrums. Once she threw Jules’s birthday cake—whole, the candles still alight—into the pool because it had the cartoon princess on it that she wanted for her own birthday. She was soundly bollocked for that and taken home; I can still remember her wails from the car as Matt and Georgia King screeched out of the drive.

  But now she’s at the Ark after her veterinary course, and I have nothing but admiration for her for lasting the five years it takes to get qualified. Stefan told me she works really hard, and I’m sure she’s going to do a great job there.

  She’s currently looking out of the window while she sings, so I glance across at her. She’s wearing tight denim cut-downs and a dark-red T-shirt. It’s a little tight, stretching over her generous bust. My lips curve up a little at the memory of her comment, It must be nice not to have to wear a bra that’s like two buckets tied together. She seemed surprised I’d noticed that she’s not small in the boob department. As if. I happen to like boobs, and Clio has a fine pair. Samantha has a figure like a Barbie doll, neat and tight. It’s nice to be with a woman who has a few curves for once. I’ve fantasized about them more than once late at night when I’m on my own.

  Her phone rings, and she struggles to get it out of her back pocket, checks the screen, then groans. “It’s Stefan. He must have landed in Auckland.” She puts it to her ear and answers with, “Yes, yes, I know, be as smug as you want.” She rolls her eyes at me, so he’s obviously scolding her. “I didn’t realize it was as late as it was,” she says. “My watch stopped. Yeah. Yes. Yes, I know, Stefan!”

  She drops her gaze and scratches at a mark on her jeans for a while as he obviously gives her an earful. “I know,”
she says when she can get a word in edgewise. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I wasn’t trying to show off to you or be argumentative. I honestly thought I had more time. Yes, I know. God!” She’s getting frustrated now. “Stop going on. I know I did wrong and I’m sorry. I’m on my way down now. I’m with Ryan; he missed the plane as well, didn’t he? Why aren’t you giving him a hard time, too? He’s driving us to Auckland, and we’re going to catch a flight to Queenstown. Jesus, Stefan, I fucking know where Dunedin is. We’re going to stay overnight and drive down in the morning, okay? Keep your knickers on. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

  She hangs up.

  “Fucking hell,” she says, exasperated. “He talks to me like I’m twelve sometimes.” She glances across at me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Do you?”

  “You’re thinking that if I didn’t want him to talk to me like I was twelve, I shouldn’t act like it.”

  “Actually, I was thinking he’s being a little unfair to you. I missed the plane as well, didn’t I? Shit happens.”

  “It does,” she agrees. “It is true that it seems to happen more to me than other people, though.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “No, it is. Stefan would say it’s my own fault; that I court disaster. And he’s probably right.” She huffs a sigh. “I’m so frickin’ inept.”

  “I don’t think anyone who’s studied for five years to become a veterinarian can call themselves inept,” I point out. “I know for a fact it’s extremely hard to get into vet college. Hal was always complaining about it.”

  “Like he had to worry,” she says. “In your first year, they rank you for selection for a hundred places, in descending order. Hal was top. I’m sure that’s why Stefan has a bug up his ass—because he was only fourth.”

  “Where were you?” I ask.

  “Fiftieth in my year,” she admits. “Right in the middle. Neither brilliant nor a dunce. Story of my life.”

  “Aw. I’m sure you don’t believe that. You made the final cut! That’s amazing. Are you fishing for compliments?”

  “Might be.”

  “Well then, Clio King, you are beautiful in both mind and body. Does that help?”

  “A bit.” She smiles, and I smile back.

  I slow to navigate the final set of traffic lights in Whangarei, the city that’s about an hour from the Ark. We still have a couple of hours until we get to Auckland Airport, but I surprise myself by not minding the long journey. Clio’s fun, and her jaunty, rebellious attitude is a relief after Samantha’s tight-lipped, controlled conversation.

  “So why don’t you have a regular boyfriend?” I ask her curiously. “I would’ve thought guys would be falling over themselves to go out with you.”

  “Oh they do,” she says cheerfully. “I don’t have any trouble getting a date if I want one. I’ve purposefully avoided getting into anything long-term since breaking up with Theo. He was fun, but it all got a bit heavy toward the end, and I don’t do heavy.”

  “Heavy in what way?”

  “He asked me to marry him.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Seriously?”

  “Mm. I said no, and he didn’t like the answer, so we broke up.”

  “Why did you say no?”

  “I’m not ready for forever,” she says, a little impatiently. “I want to concentrate on my career. Theo used to get impatient when I was busy, and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life. If I’m ever going to settle down with someone, he’s going to need to let me live my life the way I want to.”

  “That’s fair enough.”

  She glances at me. “Are you thinking I sound immature and unrealistic?”

  “Not at all,” I say, although I am, a little.

  “You can admit it,” she says. “I won’t be offended. I’ve heard worse.”

  My lips curve up. “Everyone enters into a relationship thinking they’re going to be firm about their principles, but when you love your partner, you start changing yourself to please them.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah. Compromise is part of a successful marriage. They don’t like a certain TV program so at first you watch it when you’re on your own, and then eventually it’s too much hassle so you stop watching it altogether. They comment that they like a certain item of clothing, so you start wearing it more often to please them. It’s natural. It’s like dropping two colors of paint into water; eventually you’re going to blend, and it becomes more difficult to keep them apart.”

  “Did she compromise as much as you?” Clio wants to know.

  I don’t answer for a moment. “Samantha didn’t compromise on anything,” I admit eventually. “I didn’t realize that until it was too late. It was like bringing up a toddler who throws tantrums when they don’t get something, so it’s easier to let them have it rather than argue with them in the shop. Only when it’s too late do you realize they’re used to getting their own way. I got tired of always giving in, and that’s when we started having problems—when I began refusing to do what she wanted all the time.”

  “She sounds a nightmare,” Clio says.

  “We married too young,” I admit. “But anyway, it’s done now.” I feel a wash of sadness, not at losing Samantha, but at losing that part of my life. They were wasted years in many ways, years I could have spent with a partner who was willing to return my affection.

  “I think you’re right to wait,” I tell Clio. “Stay single as long as you can. Enjoy yourself. There’ll be plenty of time for settling down and having a family when you’re in your thirties.”

  “That’s my plan,” she says. “Sow my wild oats for a while.”

  “I think it’s the guy who’s supposed to sow his oats.”

  “Why should guys have all the fun?”

  We both laugh. She’s right, of course. She’s young and pretty, confident and funny. Why should she limit herself to one boyfriend?

  “I’m just glad I live in this day and age,” she says. “With the Internet and Tinder and all that. When there are all flavors of ice cream in the shop, it seems a shame to pick vanilla every time.”

  “You don’t like vanilla?”

  She grins mischievously. “Let’s just say a bit of Rocky Road goes down a treat when you’re in the mood.”

  I chuckle. “As long as you always take precautions.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I use condoms.”

  “I didn’t mean that, but thanks for the image. I meant meeting guys off the Internet. That you only meet them in a busy place. At first, anyway.”

  She gives me an amused, exasperated look. “You’re as bad as Leon. I’m twenty-five, Ryan, not sixteen. You’re hardly old enough to be my father.”

  “I know—”

  “I’m a grown woman. I know I appear scatty sometimes, but I know better than to go off with a stranger.”

  “So you don’t have one-night stands?” I tease, glancing at her. She meets my eyes, and her lips curve up.

  “Sometimes if a friend introduces me to someone, I might think about it. Not with strangers. I’m not stupid. And anyway, from what I’ve heard, I don’t think you can pass any judgment. A little bird told me you were quite the lad before you got married.”

  I sigh, returning my gaze to the road. “Those were the days.”

  “Aw. Lamenting your lost youth?”

  “A bit.”

  “You must have dated since you and Samantha broke up?”

  “Nope,” I admit. “Been single for two years.”

  “Jesus. You need to get back out there. You’re quite a catch! I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there who’d be interested in getting to know you better.”

  I shrug. “It gets harder as you get older. I haven’t been on a first date in over ten years.”

  “It’s like riding a bike. Only the handles are slightly bigger.” She pats her hips and laughs.

  I grin. “I guess. But I don’t think I’m ready for another rela
tionship.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship? You need to play the field for a while.”

  “I do,” I admit. “I really do.”

  “Want me to fix you up with someone?”

  That makes me laugh. “I think I can manage. But thank you for that kind thought.”

  “Well, if you’re ever short of company, you know where I am.”

  I look across at her. She gives me an impish smile.

  “Clio,” I scold, looking back at the road.

  “What?”

  “I’m older than you!”

  “Eight years. Hardly old enough to be my father. Anyway, I like older men.”

  “I’m your cousin.”

  “By adoption, and it’s not illegal to date your cousin in New Zealand.”

  “Oh, you’ve done your research?”

  “I was talking about you to Nix and the others,” she admits without a hint of embarrassment.

  “Were you, now?”

  “I’m just saying. It would be perfectly legal.”

  “Maybe. But I haven’t forgotten that Leon’s your brother. I’d like to keep my balls intact, thank you very much.”

  “Oh screw Leon,” she says crossly. “I’m fed up with him sticking his oar in.”

  “We do work together,” I tell her, thoroughly enjoying myself. There’s not a snowball’s chance someplace hot that I’d ever go to bed with her, but it’s fun to play the game.

  “So?”

  “So don’t you think it would be awkward to have a fling and then see each other every day?”

  “No.”

  I laugh. “You’re quite the gal, Clio King.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “You totally should. Now turn the music up. I’m in the mood for singing.”

  Chapter Five

  Clio

  When we get to Warkworth—about two-thirds of the way there—Ryan pulls over, and we go into a fast-food joint for a coffee and a burger to keep us going.