Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(26)

I didn’t blame her for hating me. What woman wouldn’t?

One of the images takes me into an article called ‘London’s sexiest lawyers.’ Who knew that was a thing? As I scroll through the article I laugh bitterly, causing the people next to me to stiffen. No one expresses emotion on the underground.

Tristan Kane was voted number one.

Guiltily, I try one last search. It was the first suggestion that came up, so it would be rude not to. My eyes bulge when the numbers render on screen: 250 million pounds?? This guy is worth 250 million pounds?

I shut my phone. Why am I torturing myself? No good can come of creeping on Tristan Kane online. Seeing photos of his glamorous life is just heart-breaking. None of those women in the pictures look like they live in a house-share with seven other people and stock toilet rolls in their bedroom.

No, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll focus on my work, keep my head down and get everything I can out of this trainee contract, then move on. Sophie is a good mentor; I can learn a lot from her.

He can sleep with other trainees, not me. Greece wasn’t me; it was a temporary lapse of judgement. And it’s never the subordinate that comes off well in these situations, is it? I can’t jeopardise my career before it’s even started. For all I know he’s looking for a quick fumble then I’ll be ghosted or worse, fired. I need to protect myself. While I’ve been in a no-sex bubble for months he’s been schmoozing all over London, by the looks of things.

I’m almost convinced except for one niggling thing. I can't stop thinking of the way he looked at me.

The look told me Tristan Kane is a man who gets what he wants.





9




Elly

‘I’m never drinking again’ is a mantra Megan and I adopt weekly, usually on a Sunday. Megan’s the instigator. If it weren’t for her, I’d be in bed by 10 every Saturday night with a book.

It’s Saturday night and we are super excited. Sophie has landed me two last-minute spots on the guest list for Liquid Venus, the newly opened exclusive nightclub in the city. She says it’s teeming with seriously hot men, fire-eaters and burlesque dancers. Madison Legal HQ is just around the corner, so I hope I don't run into any Madison lawyers.

Except our buzz is waning slightly. The nightclub queue is a good forty people deep, hasn’t moved in thirty minutes, and it’s starting to rain. In an attempt to revive my love life, I'm wearing a top with a slash down the side and rocking the side boob look, but it's creating a draft.

Megan is dissecting the Tristan situation with me. She thinks I’m overthinking everything.

“So he was separated in Mykonos…and he’s now divorced,” she muses. “It’s not as bad as you thought.”

I roll my eyes, shivering as spits of rain fall. “Whose side are you on? He lied. Okay, if I’m going easy on him, he withheld vital information rather than lying. As a lawyer he should have known it would have a negative impact on his case,” I add sarcastically. “He was treating me like a one-night stand.”

“We thought you were a one-night stand,” she points out. “One-night stands don’t bare their souls and recite their CVs to each other.”

“We turned into a three-night stand with copious spooning. What’s that called?”

“Greedy.”

“I still think ‘I have a family’ is a fact you disclose up front,” I grumble. “I broke bread with the man.”

“It’s a big debate for online daters. How much do you disclose upfront? You don’t know if you’re going to see them again. What if they end up being psychos?” She offers me the wine-filled water bottle. “He’s asking for another chance. And you clearly like him despite your protests. Would it really be that bad to just go for it and see what happens?”

“Yes, it would be that bad.”

We inch up the queue.

“There are pictures of him all over the internet with actual supermodels, Megan. Supermodels don’t just have hot bodies, they have professionally hot bodies.” I take a mouthful of wine. If Tristan could see me drinking budget wine from a water bottle, he’d be appalled. “And do you know how sad I am? I tried counting to see if I could figure out how many women he’s been with since Greece. All he wants is a quick fling and the stakes are too high for me.”

“So cynical,” she says. “You don’t know that for sure. Besides, standing in photos with hot women doesn’t necessarily mean he had sex with them.”

“Remember what his wife said? Just another fling,” I remind her, handing back the bottle. We need to finish the wine before we get to the front of the queue. “I don’t know what he’s capable of. I don’t know anything about him, really.”

“Ummm,” she says, thinking. “But you said she was seemed mean so you don’t know that’s the truth. With everyone you meet, you take a chance. What are you so afraid of?”

“In Mykonos we were two strangers who had chemistry. Here, it’s too entangled with my life. I mean he could ruin my career. These things never end well. The trainee and the CEO? Come on. If I give in, I leave myself wide open.” I take another deep slug of wine.

“You do. Wide open.” She smirks. “Here’s the important question.” Her expression turns serious. “Do you think about him in the bath?”