Prologue
Kylie
“Who in the fuck are you, and why are you here? Never mind. Just go away and stop pounding on my door.”
I lowered the fist I’d been using to bang on the door since Dylan Lancaster had finally decided to open it.
I’d rung the doorbell for two minutes straight, and then resorted to hammering on the door for several more minutes before Dylan had finally popped his head out.
I wasn’t about to…go away.
Not in the near future, anyway.
I plowed past him and into the foyer of the Beverly Hills mansion, a rolling suitcase in tow, and my miniature beagle, Jake, cuddled against my body.
I took a deep breath as I turned to face him. “I don’t really have to ask if you’re Dylan Lancaster. You do look a lot like Damian. Although I do have to say that your brother looks a lot…healthier.”
I stared at Dylan, assessing his bloodshot eyes, unkept attire, and his general malaise.
His eyes were the same color as Damian’s, but Dylan’s didn’t seem to have a single spark of life in those pretty irises. What a shame, because I’d always thought Damian’s eyes were one of his best features.
Dylan slammed the door. “I’ll ask you again. Who in the fuck are you? And what do you mean that Damian looks…healthier?”
I smirked because I knew I’d hit a nerve. Obviously, Dylan didn’t like being compared to his elder identical twin.
Jake squirmed in my arms, so I put the miniature beagle down on the floor. He was well potty trained, and he wasn’t a chewer. “I mean that you look like the anti-twin. Your eyes are bloodshot, you’re way too skinny, probably because you prefer to drink your meals instead of eating them, and your general sense of style with your clothing is horrible. Not to mention the fact that you need a haircut, and possibly a shower because I can smell you from way over here.”
Okay, I really couldn’t smell him, but I’d much rather nip the cleanliness thing in the bud. There was absolutely nothing worse than a guy who reeked, and I was going to have to be around Dylan every single day.
“I do not stink. I shower every single day.” His answer was haughty, and he sounded somewhat offended.
Since I wasn’t about to get close enough to him to sniff for myself, I ignored his comment. “Don’t you have caretakers here?”
I could have sworn that Nicole had mentioned a couple who lived here, and managed the estate.
Dylan glowered at me. “They’re on vacation somewhere in the Caribbean. I didn’t expect to be back here so soon. Now tell me who you are and what you want, or I’ll throw your ass out of here.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot. You were staying at Hollingsworth House until your mother decided that it wasn’t appropriate behavior for you to fuck a female under her roof while she was throwing her gala. Not to mention the fact that you broke Nicole’s heart. Is that why you ran back here like a coward instead of telling Nic that you were sorry?” I plastered an innocent look on my face while I waited for his answer.
Bastard!
He had no idea how much I wanted to put my knee in his balls for making my best friend cry.
“I was in a private bedroom, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t like I knew that she was going to come and watch,” he said testily.
I folded my arms over my chest. “But you apparently had no problem if she wanted to join you and your girl-toy.”
Dylan glared at me. “She wasn’t a girl. The woman was thirty years old, and as for Nicole, I thought the more, the merrier. How was I supposed to know that my brother was madly in love with her? Damian has never fallen in love with any of the women he’s shagged.”
Don’t do it, Kylie. Don’t punch the bastard in the face so hard that he can’t talk anymore.
I was usually more patient, but Nicole was my best friend, so it fried my ass to hear Dylan referring to her like she was just another fuck for Damian.
Since it wouldn’t exactly start us out on a good footing if I punched Dylan, I resorted to insults. “Seriously? I doubt you could handle one woman in the shape you’re in, much less two. And by the way, Nicole is my best friend, so if you say anything bad about her, I’ll put my knee in your balls until you sing soprano. Do we understand each other?”
Dylan’s expression turned dark. “The shape I’m in? What in the hell does that mean? I’m thirty-three years old. I’m perfectly capable of handling any number of women in one night.”
I snorted. “I noticed you didn’t say you could actually satisfy them. You probably are capable of pawing them, but not much more than that.”
The visual for that whole scenario wasn’t exactly pleasant, so I made a face and shut down the image of Dylan petting a harem of women.
He let out a low, throaty sound as he moved toward me. “You know nothing about me. I don’t really think I even care anymore who you are. I just want you to leave. I don’t even know why I’m having this unpleasant conversation with you. I don’t give a damn what you think. Go. And take that miserable excuse for a hound with you.”
I tilted my chin up as he got close enough to grab me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Dylan started to crowd me, so I stepped back, even though I didn’t really want to back down.
Really, he wasn’t terribly skinny, and he was extremely tall. I was five foot seven, over the average height for a female, but Dylan towered over me. I didn’t like his menacing expression, either.
With my back against the wall, I put my palm out to keep him from moving any closer. “Back off.”
Dylan smirked as he took another step closer. “Could it be that you’re only brave from a distance, Red?”
God, I hated it when people made fun of my hair. “Fuck off, Lancaster.”
“Is that an invitation?” His voice became low and seductive.
I wouldn’t say I was afraid of Dylan Lancaster, but I was more uneasy with this new, provocative Dylan than I had been with the asshole.
He’s trying to throw me off-balance. The bastard is trying to make me nervous.
I met his gaze and refused to look away, even when he placed his palms against the wall, trapping me between his arms.
“It’s not even close to an invitation.” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t screw you if you were the last man on Earth, and my hormones were running rampant.”
I’d be damned if I’d back down from someone like Dylan Lancaster. He was a man-whore, a spoiled rotten billionaire who treated women like their only purpose was sex, and to plump his already over-inflated ego.
“Is that right, Red?” His deep baritone was captivating now.
I took a breath and released it slowly, determined not to give an inch. Unfortunately, I realized that Dylan had been right. He definitely didn’t stink. His scent was musky, masculine, and he exuded something that reminded me of sex, sin, and hot, sweaty nights of carnal pleasure.
Shit!
“Get off me, Lancaster,” I insisted, never allowing my gaze to waver.
“I’m not on you yet, Red,” he answered huskily.
I was wrong about his eyes!
I froze as I noticed that his irises were darker and filled with something that looked like…sheer, unadulterated lust.
Holy shit!
“Last chance. Back the fuck off.” I hated the fact that my voice sounded slightly panicked.
I was honest enough with myself to admit that it wasn’t fear that was making me edgy.
It was Dylan’s eyes, his sexy British accent, and the way that he was looking at me right now.
I could handle the asshole.
I wasn’t so sure about the sexy Brit persona.
I took another deep breath, and then bit back a groan as I was overwhelmed by Dylan’s I-want-to-fuck-you-into-multiple-orgasms scent.
He lowered his head until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. Those puffs of air smelled minty and fresh, making me want to grab him by the hair and yank his head down until I could taste that hint of peppermint on my tongue.
“What are you going to do if I kiss you, Red?”
“Don’t do it,” I warned him.
No matter how much my body was clamoring for Dylan’s touch, I wasn’t about to let this asshole manhandle me like he’d done with countless women before me. Dylan Lancaster was playing with me. I was simply his…entertainment.
He grinned, and the action lit up his entire face. “Now that sounds like a challenge,” he said.
I pushed against his chest. “It’s not,” I snapped.
My entire body tightened as his mouth landed on mine, and his lips coaxed me to respond.
For a moment, I couldn’t fight the attraction, and I opened, allowing Dylan’s lazy but thorough exploration.
My arms snaked around his neck, and I answered every blatant caress of his tongue.
He teased.
He tempted.
He tantalized.
And oh, my God, the man could provoke a reaction from an inanimate object with a kiss as sinful as his.
Kylie! What the fuck are you doing? He’s a male slut, and you know it!
I squeaked as I tried to move away from temptation by turning my head, and breaking lip contact. “Let go of me.”
Dylan’s body stayed exactly where it was, and he tried to connect our mouths again.
If he doesn’t move, I’m screwed. I’d let myself get sucked right back under his spell again.
So I did what I’d already thought about doing earlier.
My knee came up in a quick motion of desperation, and connected directly with my target.
“Fuck!” Dylan let out a groan as he let me go. “Bloody hell! Why did you do that?”
I scrambled away from the wall and moved until there was nothing behind me but air. I watched Dylan as he clung to his family jewels and sucked air in and out of his lungs like it was the most difficult task he’d ever done.
“I told you to let go.” Honestly, I did feel a little bit guilty. I had led him on. A little. Not on purpose, but my hormones had gone from zero to overdrive in less than a second when he’d kissed me.
It had taken my brain a little longer to catch up.
“You wanted that as much as I did,” Dylan accused.
“You caught me off guard,” I argued. “And then I remembered that you were a man-whore, and I definitely didn’t want it. I didn’t knee you that hard. It could have been worse. You’re still a baritone.”
Dylan’s breathing evened out, but his hand was still protectively holding his junk. “I don’t give a fuck who you are—leave this house. Now.”
I shook my head. “Not happening, big guy. We never really got around to introductions, but I’m Kylie Hart. My best friend is going to be marrying your brother in approximately six weeks. I’m here to make sure nothing goes wrong, and there’s no more negative press, here or in the UK, before that happens. Damian and Nicole deserve this time stress-free to plan their wedding, and spend some quality time together without having to put out fires that you create.”
“I’m not planning on raining on their parade,” Dylan grumbled.
I beamed at him. “Good. Then we’ll get along fine.”
Dylan grimaced as he stroked his crotch like he was trying to decide whether or not I broke something vital before he said, “I don’t need a goddamn companion.”
“Oh, I’m not planning on being your companion, Dylan.” I reached down to scoop up Jake. “In six weeks’ time, you’re going to clean up your act, and then you’ll fly back to London for the wedding. After that, I don’t give a damn what you do because Damian and Nic will be on their honeymoon.”
“I’m not going to the wedding.”
Oh yes, you are.
I curled my fingers around the handle of my suitcase. “I assume the bedrooms are upstairs?”
“You’re not going upstairs,” he growled. “Leave.”
“This isn’t your house, so technically, you’re a squatter,” I informed him. “This place belongs to Damian because you signed everything over to him. And I highly doubt he’s going to kick me out. Believe it or not, he likes me.”
He raised a brow. “I highly doubt that. You’re a thoroughly unlikable female.”
I laughed. “I’d be completely likable if you weren’t such an asshole.”
I could see the muscle in Dylan’s jaw twitch, and I knew he was losing his patience, if he ever had any to begin with, so I said, “I’ll just show myself upstairs.”
“If you think you can tolerate six weeks with me, you’re delusional,” he said.
There was something in his voice that stopped me from tossing back a smart-ass reply.
Something desperate.
Something vulnerable.
Something…tormented.
I hated the fact that I couldn’t completely harden my heart when it came to Dylan Lancaster. I didn’t exactly like him, but he had suffered significant loss.
I headed for the stairs with my suitcase in tow. “We can do this easy and friendly, or you can make it hard. Your choice.”
“What are you, my mum?” he taunted.
“No, I’m your new babysitter for the next six weeks.” I kept heading for the stairs without looking back at him.
“You’ll be gone in twenty-four hours!” he called after my retreating figure.
My heart ached because I could hear a little bit of fear in his tone, like everyone before me had abandoned him, so he just expected that everyone else would, too.
I’m not going anywhere, big guy.
I wasn’t just here to make sure Dylan stayed out of trouble, although that was definitely one of my goals.
Nicole had given me a partnership in ACM, even though I didn’t have the funds to buy in.
In return, I wanted to do something to thank her for being more like a sister than a friend. And for trusting me to take care of her mom’s business. I really wanted to give Damian his brother back. The real Dylan Lancaster. Not the asshole who was currently inhabiting his body.
It was the one thing that would mean everything to Nicole and Damian.
I smiled as I climbed the stairs.
I couldn’t think of a better wedding present than that.
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