The Scotch Queen: Book Two Read online

  It was so hot.

  Now I was distracted all the time, thinking about the woman who was constantly on my mind. With soft hair, softer skin, and moans that made my cock twitch, she was the most incredible thing in the world. She used to hate me with every fiber of her being, but that anger had slowly faded away.

  She admitted that she needed me. That she trusted me. That she even liked me.

  And I knew I liked her too.

  My sexual appetite had been satiated the second I was inside her. Sasha called me when she was in town, but I told her I was too busy to see her. Miranda texted me when she was at the embassy, but I told her I was out of the country. I could have spent the night with them without doing anything.

  But I didn’t want to.

  That was the most interesting part.

  My prisoner gave me everything I needed. I satisfied my revenge at the same time and enjoyed the dynamics of our relationship. I was the boss, and she was the slave. It was pretty simple. I liked it that way.

  I was glad I never gave her to Bones.

  Eventually, I’d have to take a wife and have a family. Being a husband sounded like a bore, but fatherhood was something I actually looked forward to. I would need a woman who was happy in a loveless marriage. She could have her men on the side. I’d have my women, obviously. Perhaps we could be good friends who only loved our children.

  So I didn’t have to get rid of London entirely. But she certainly couldn’t sleep in my bed every single night. She’d have to live off the property somewhere else so our relationship wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

  But London would never be able to have her own husband and family.

  As crazy as that sounded, I actually felt a little sad.

  That was strange.

  Dimitri walked into my office, taking on his new role flawlessly. All of my men pined for my approval, wanting to be promoted. Dunbar had one of the highest positions in the crew, so he was one of the top billed. When I offered the position to Dimitri, he didn’t hesitate before he accepted the role. Dunbar would probably turn sour against him, but he obviously didn’t care. “Sir, the Duchess of Cambridge is here to see you.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. “What?” It wasn’t an intelligent thing to say, but I was shocked that she’d visited me twice.

  “The Duchess of Cambridge.” He repeated the title even though he knew I heard him the first time.

  What the hell did this bitch want? I couldn’t refuse an audience with royalty, but I’d told her not to come back here, and she obviously didn’t believe my sincerity. If I entertained her, it would open the door to nonsense. “Tell her I’m unavailable. If she asks for my next opening, tell her I’m busy for the indefinite future.” It was rude of me to behave that way, especially when her position was higher than mine, but if she only wanted to discuss her mistake of breaking off our engagement, I refused to listen to it.

  “Yes, sir.” Dimitri walked out again, leaving me alone in my office.

  I’d just been thinking about London, that luscious ass and perfect tits, but now I was thinking about the betrayal that publicly humiliated me. I was combative and angry, my good day ruined about a past I couldn’t erase.

  I was on the phone with Ariel when London walked inside.

  Dimitri must have allowed her to walk in because he assumed she had special access that others lacked. I would have told her to get out and inform Dimitri she was like everyone else, but when I saw her in a purple dress that hugged her tiny waist and her sexy legs in those nude pumps, I didn’t want her to go anywhere. She’d curled her hair and pinned it up to the side, showing off her slender neck and cute face.

  Ariel kept talking about our shipment, but I didn’t listen.

  Ever since we bought that gown in Italy, London had been going the extra mile to make herself look spectacular. Maybe the designer dress ignited an appreciation for outfits that she didn’t have before. Now every time I saw her, I thought I was looking at a model. She used to wear jeans and t-shirts and didn’t put a drop of makeup on her face, and she still looked stunning But now…there was no way to describe how phenomenal she looked.

  Ariel continued on. “We have a large order near the Baltic Sea. They’re asking for—”

  “Let me call you back.” I interrupted her without remorse, my eyes on the curvy woman walking right toward me.

  “Sure.” If Ariel knew why I was cutting her off, she would be pissed. But she probably assumed something more important had come up, so she hung up without complaint.

  Without taking my eyes away from London’s figure, I tossed the phone onto the desk. “You look nice.” That was an understatement. She looked completely fuckable—even if she didn’t finger herself.

  “Thank you.” She came around the desk, trailing her fingers along the ancient wood as she approached. Maybe she was doing it on purpose, but her sexiness seemed natural. She could walk into any room looking like that and turn heads everywhere. She stopped at my side, her short dress showing off her toned thighs. “Working hard?”

  “I never work hard.” My arms rested on the armrests, and I felt my cock harden in my slacks. My hand couldn’t resist a touch of her smooth skin, so I wrapped my fingers around her thigh. I wanted to pull her onto my lap and sheathe myself inside her warm pussy. Whenever I was in the same room as this woman, that was all I ever thought about. She infected my mind like a poison.

  “I hope that’s not true. Don’t want to be homeless.”

  The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “I’ll always take care of you, Lovely.” My fingers trailed to the back of her knee and to her calf. She had strong muscles for a small person, probably because she was on her feet all day when she was in school. My hand moved back up her thigh and underneath her dress until I gripped her left cheek.

  Perky and soft.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” My fingers felt the lace of her panties.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “You know where the kitchen is.” I had a chef working day and night when I was in town. When I was elsewhere, he got to take a vacation.

  “I don’t like eating alone all the time. It’s boring.”

  “Are you asking if you can have lunch with me?”

  Her eyes narrowed at the way I worded my sentence. “No. I’m not asking if I can have lunch with you. I’m telling you we should eat together.”

  The corner of my mouth rose in a smile, loving that feistiness. I would never want her to stop setting me straight. It was something I loved about her, even though I would never admit it. She wasn’t docile, obedient, or quiet. That was how I liked her—most of the time. “When you put it like that…it’s not like I’m doing anything anyway.”

  “I hope you do something productive while you’re in here all day.”

  I shrugged. “That’s debatable. Time passes, but I never feel like I’m getting anything done.”

  “Then you should fire Ariel.”

  London would love that. “She’s not the problem. Without her, I wouldn’t be productive at all.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She stepped away, so my hand dropped back to my side. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

  “You’re bossy today.” I stared at her ass as she walked to the door.

  “I’m just hungry.” She turned around with her hand on her hips. “Now feed your woman.”

  My woman? Instead of shooting her down, I actually liked the title. She was my slave, and I liked possessing her. “Wouldn’t want you to get grouchy.” I rose from the chair and buttoned the front of my suit. I walked up behind her, thinking about taking her on my desk when the meal was over. My arm slipped around her waist, and I walked into the hallway with her tucked into my side. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “I’m not picky.”

  I was over a foot taller than her, but my arm was long enough to scoop around her waist. I liked her wide hips and slender stomach. She was petite but still womanly. We entered the large ki
tchen where my chef stood in front of the series of stoves.

  “Hello, sir. What can I get for you?” He wore a tall chef’s hat, and I wondered how he balanced it on his head all day.

  I turned to London. “No preference?”

  “Surprise us,” she said.

  Chef Bingly smiled. “I can do that.”

  “Want to eat in the courtyard?”

  London lit up like that was the most exciting thing to happen to her all week. “Yes.”

  I guided her down the hallway again until we reached the courtyard that stood between two of the main fortifications. It had a great view of the countryside and the mountains in the far distance. The gardens were properly maintained, and they were blooming with roses of various colors. A fountain dripped continuously, providing the sound of falling water as the backdrop.

  London felt a pink rose in her fingertips and smelled it before she examined the gardens further. She looked at the concrete statues and the bushes trimmed in the likenesses of safari animals.

  I took a seat in one of the white chairs under the umbrella and watched. “I thought Ariel took you out here once before?”

  “I didn’t really get a chance to enjoy it.” She grabbed a red rose from one of the bushes then tucked the stem behind her ear. The color contrasted against her fair skin but complimented the purple dress she wore. It was an accessory that fit perfectly. “She was insulting me the entire time.”

  “She tends to do that.”

  She took the seat across from me as one of the maids came out. She brought coffee and water, alone with a small vase of flowers. She nodded before she walked away, trying to be so quiet that we wouldn’t notice her.

  London added some cream to her coffee.

  “I thought you liked it black.” It was something I noticed the second she came into my possession. She had been too argumentative to speak to, so I’d had to study her to understand her.

  “I already had a cup this morning. The acid hurts my stomach unless I soften it.”

  I nodded then poured my own mug.

  “I’m surprised you still have a stomach with all that poison you drink.”

  I’d classify myself as an alcoholic. I just held my liquor well, so I didn’t have any behavioral issues. London was the only one to mention my love for scotch. Everyone else didn’t notice or didn’t have the audacity to point it out. “Maybe I’m a cow.”

  She raised an eyebrow before she drank her coffee. “What?”

  “Because they have four stomachs.”

  “Ooh…” She finally let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t sure where you were going with that.”

  I liked watching her face light up with a smile. When I was the one who made her laugh, it was even better. When she coated her eyelashes in mascara, they were thick and dark and contrasted against her green eyes. In that moment, she was absolutely lovely. I wished I could take a picture of her. If I pulled out my camera, it would probably ruin the moment.

  “So seriously, how many glasses of scotch do you drink a day?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never counted.”

  “What would you estimate?”

  I thought about the average day and how many glasses I had for lunch, while I sat in my office, and at dinnertime. Plus, all the scotch I drank before bed. “I don’t know…six or seven glasses…sometimes nine or ten.”

  Her jaw nearly dropped, and her eyes popped open. “Nine or ten…?”

  Was that a lot?

  “That’s insane. Your liver must be corroded.”

  I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t seen a doctor in years. “I feel fine.” I still hit the gym hard every single day and ran my empire without a problem.

  “That’s just not good for you, Crewe. It’s fine to drink…but not that much.”

  Instead of putting any value into what she said, I concentrated on the unspoken meaning of her words. “You sounds concerned.”

  “I am concerned. Alcohol at that level isn’t healthy.”

  “I’ve been drinking like that for a long time. Don’t worry about it.”

  “How can I not worry about it?” she demanded. “You’re gonna drown yourself.”

  My love for scotch began when I was young. When I opened up my own distillery, it became worse. Getting lost in a smooth glass of amber liquid was the best way to chase away my depression. It was the best cure for nightmares.

  “How do you even think when you’re drunk all the time?”

  “I think better, actually.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to sound bossy, but you really should cut it back. You’ll need a liver transplant before you turn forty.”

  “And then I can keep going for another forty years.”

  Now she just glared at me.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it sounds as if you care about me.”

  Her glare faded, but she still wore a serious look. “Because I do care about you, Crewe. But you already knew that.”

  My heart rate picked up slightly, and I felt arousal that wasn’t caused by just her outfit. Hearing a confession like that inflated my ego bigger than it already was. She was being held here against her will, but she somehow felt a connection with me.

  I was glad the feeling was mutual.

  “I want you to cut back.”

  If anyone else had made that request of me, I wouldn’t even consider it. But I loved the way her face darkened in concern. I loved knowing she cared about me, that she wanted me to live a long and healthy life. The longer I lived, the longer she was my prisoner. But that didn’t seem to bother her.

  “Crewe.”

  “How much are we talking?” I wanted to keep listening to this, to hear her beg me to take care of myself. She sounded like a nagging wife, but I actually liked it.

  “Three to four glasses a day.”

  I laughed because it was absurd. “I have four glasses by the end of lunch.”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to space it out. Drink more water.”

  “There’s water in scotch.”

  That glare was back.

  I smiled because I liked the look. “Five to six.”

  “Even that is too much. Three to four.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no way I could do that. Just being honest.”

  “Baby steps. Cut back one drink a day until you reach four.”

  She made it sound so easy. “I’m addicted, Lovely. I need it.”

  “You can always replace it with something else.”

  “Cigars?”

  Now that glare was more ferocious. “No smoking.”

  “Then what?”

  “Sex always works.”

  I raised an eyebrow, hoping that was some kind of offer. “Sex, huh?”

  “Yeah. When you get the urge, come looking for me instead.”

  Scotch for sex. That didn’t sound so bad. “You’ll get my mind off it?”

  “I’ll certainly try.”

  With an offer like that, cutting back actually sounded possible. “I’ll try.”

  “There’s no try. You seem like a man who always succeeds. Make this a success.”

  “You should be a motivational speaker, you know that?”

  She shook her head. “Very little things motivate me, besides health. I want everyone to live a long and happy life, free from disease that’s self-induced. I hate seeing it. It’s the worst.”

  I always forgot about her medical background. When I looked at her, I just saw a beautiful woman at my beck and call. I didn’t think about her passions or her previous life. None of that seemed to matter. “Looks like I have a private physician.”

  “I don’t know about that…never got my license.” The accusation was heavy in her voice.

  I let it wash over me without any effect. If she didn’t want to be there, she wouldn’t be so seductive, so flirtatious. I suspected she wanted to stay there with me, to live like royalty every single day without having to lift a finger. Every woman wanted to be pampered. Sh
e was no different.

  I held her hand as we walked back to my office. We had a nice lunch and talked about the beautiful weather. As if we were a couple, we were comfortable in mutual silence. We didn’t always need to talk, but when we did, it was nice.

  But I didn’t feel like being nice right now.

  I stopped in front of my office door. “I have a phone call to make. When I’m done, I’m going to go upstairs and see you naked on the bed, flat on your stomach. Do you understand?” If she wanted me to quit drinking like an alcoholic, she’d definitely have to distract me.

  These situations were the only ones where she obeyed. Any other time, I had a face full of attitude. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” I grabbed her wrist then pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. I had a lot of dirty things in mind for her. It would be a shame not to put that beautiful ass to good use. “See you in a few.” I turned my back on her and walked into my office. I didn’t have any such phone call to make. I just wanted to give her time to prepare for me. I intended to do something new with her, something she’d probably never experienced.

  Hopefully, she would like it.

  I sat at my desk and eyed the bottle of scotch sitting next to my laptop. I didn’t know how many glasses I’d had that day, but I was certain I was already over the limit. Cutting down would be a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. It’d only been five minutes, and I was already struggling.

  I really did have a drinking problem.

  My cell phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen, expecting to see Ariel getting back to me with news about the shipment. I was supposed to call her back and never did. But she knew I was forgetful and busy.

  But it was Josephine.

  Why the fuck wouldn’t this bitch just disappear?

  I didn’t need any more rumors about my love life. She humiliated me once, and I wouldn’t be dragged into scandal again. If people assumed I was contemplating taking her back, that would be even worse than when she left me to begin with.