London Falling (Falling #2)(7)



“So are you considering making a change from your normal MO?” Tripp asked as I tucked another towel around my wet hair.

“In what way?”

“Well, it’s probably about time you let a man in.”

I shrugged and shook the towel around my hair squeezing out the wetness. “You know, I’m happy the way things are. I don’t need a man to be happy. I’m in control of my life and most importantly, my heart.” Tripp’s question struck a chord that hadn’t been played in a long while. Since James died I’d worked hard to glue the pieces of my broken soul back together. For the most part, I’d done well. I get what I physically need from the men I bed casually, and I have emotional companionship in Tripp. “Besides, I have you. Why would I need anyone else?”

Tripp smiled wide and shook the towel in my hair and then pulled it off. He pushed the wet hair behind my ears running his fingers through it and down my scalp. “And you always will have me.” He ducked his head down so we were forehead to forehead gazes locked. “You know I love you, right?” His voice was sweet and tender. He was trying to make amends for taking advantage this morning. This habit was old and worn through many years of trial and error. If Tripp did something to upset me, he’d immediately need to re-establish our connection and confirm my love. That screwed up bitch of a Mother of his tortured him into believing he was unlovable. “More than anyone?”

“More than anyone,” I assured him. He smacked my towel covered ass. “Ouch!”

“Good. Now get moving. We have one full day together and I’m not letting any of it go to waste. “

I heard the shower turn back on as I entered my walk-in closet. My relationship with Tripp was unconventional but it was mine and I wouldn’t change it.

Instinctively, I thought back to last night when I kissed Collier. Gooseflesh broke across my skin. Just the memory of the man’s lips and body against mine had my nerve endings thrumming. I could imagine his essence surrounding me, making me feel whole again. It’d had been a few weeks since I’d been with a man. Briefly I wondered how long it would take him to find me. Would he even seek me out? I had a strong feeling he would. That kiss was memorable to say the least.



***

London Kelley. I couldn’t get the bloody bird out of my head. Visions of her invaded my thoughts throughout the horrendous week. For days I’d dealt with a celebrity debacle with one of our rock stars destroying a New York hotel suite. Apparently daft, coked-up rock stars thought it funny to use a flat screen telly to slide down the stairs of a posh two story penthouse in downtown Manhattan. Same blokes escorted slappers scantily dressed through the hotel lobby and proceeded to publicly shag them in the lifts. Each member of the band was arrested on public indecency and vandalism charges after the hotel concierge called the cops on them. Of course we settled out of court and paid the hotel off, leaving me with a mountain of paperwork, but they will pay the firm for it in spades. It reminded me I needed a legal assistant.

Hearing a soft knock on the door, I lifted my head to see Nathaniel standing with his overcoat, ready to leave for the day. “Cheerio, old mate.”

“Hey Nathaniel, I need a favor.”

He entered my office and sat in one of the plush leather armchairs. “Anything, old chap.”

“Bollocks, I’m not that old!” Ever since we were little boys he would complain that he was younger. Now that we’re adults he constantly reminded me of that fact, though lately I’ve felt well beyond my thirty years.

“You act old. When was the last time you had a good shagging or went off on a bender?”

“The former is none of your business, the latter well, I could use a good night with me mates, yeah?”

“This weekend, we’ll call a couple lads, maybe pick up some ladies and have a good time. I want to introduce you to a new buddy of mine, Hank Jensen. He’s dating a client of ours, remember Aspen Reynolds?” His light brown hair fell over his forehead as he waggled his brows and grinned.

“You’re incorrigible. But speaking of women, I’d like to get in touch with London Kelley.” I focused on the papers in front of me and tried to look as nonchalant as possible.

“You fancy Ms. Kelley, yeah?” His smirk was undeniable as he pulled out his cell phone. He grabbed a notecard and pen and copied her telephone number onto it, along with her address. “Just call that number there, and Bob’s your uncle! You’ve got her.”

“Thanks mate. I think I will. There’s just something about this girl.”

“Well, she’s a fit bird,” he said. “Brilliant choice. You know, Aspen Reynolds is her sister. If calling doesn’t work, maybe I could plan a meeting with Hank and Aspen, have her bring along her sister.” With that he stood and saluted as he left.

I stared at the phone number on the notecard. Brilliant choice indeed. Scanning the number I made the call. A deep male voice answered on the second ring. “Hello?” It surprised me because I thought London was unattached. It was entirely possible, bloody likely that she had a man in her life.

“Hello. Yes, I was hoping to speak with Ms. Kelley.” A glance at the clock told me it was six in the evening. Perfectly respectable time to receive calls.

“She’s with a client. Is this her James Bond?” the man asked. I now recognized the voice as Tripp Devereaux.

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