Wicked Surrender (Hollis Brothers Book 3) Page 2
She was so inappropriate.
And that frustrated him to no end because despite her unsuitability he wanted her. Badly.
He’d never intended for London to hear him mouth off. Except somehow she was standing right there in the doorway, her liquid brown eyes shining with pain and embarrassment, and probably a million other unpleasant emotions that he was too ashamed to decipher. It was one of the most awful moments of his life - one he wished he could erase. It’d been unforgivable.
That didn’t mean he hadn’t tried to get her to forgive her. It hadn’t worked. His apologies were met with icy retorts, his flowers came back without the cards being opened and his phone-calls had remained unanswered. It was at that moment that he’d learned that London hated just as hard as she loved. The harder he tried, the more hostile she became, snipping at him if he so much as came within a foot of her. Finally, he’d backed away.
If only he knew the words that would make her forgive him - the words that could revive their friendship, he thought with a mental sigh as he watched her practically scramble away from him to go and stand with Misha’s other bridesmaids. Sure friendship was a pale imitation of what he really wanted - but better half a loaf than none.
Thankfully, the wedding ceremony was brief. The lifelong deal was done inside two hours and a couple of hymns. With a kiss, Danny said goodbye to his days as a bachelor. Judging his wide grin, it was obvious that he didn’t give a damn that he was officially shackled.
Once the ceremony was over, the wedding party headed for the photo session. The posing, smiling and picture snapping didn’t take long and soon they too were spilling towards the reception area to join the rest of the wedding guests. Well, all the members of the wedding party except London. She joined the band onstage - her band.
If he wasn’t enraptured before, Zeke certainly would’ve been after listening to London sing. If angels could sing, Zeke was sure that this was how they’d sound. London’s voice was low, haunting and smoky, tempting everyone to follow her bidding.
“I love her voice,” Shakira murmured. “I still can’t believe no record company has snatched their band up yet.”
“I thought they got an offer last week?” Zeke asked as he twirled his sister-in-law around the dance floor in an easy waltz, her vivid green gown sweeping the floor behind them.
“They didn’t take it.” Shakira grimaced. “Something about the company wanting their souls or something.”
“So they’re free?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Shakira nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Landa-Heron’s been having some issues with its weekday evening band,” he mused as they swayed to London’s music. “The hotel needs a new band. Do you think the Xin Monsters would be interested in a gig like that?”
“Would they be interested?” Shakira’s eyes widened with excitement. “Does the sun rise in the morning?”
Zeke laughed. “I take it that means they would be.”
“She’s going to be so excited!” Shakira exclaimed just as London started a fresh song. “When are you going to ask her?”
“Actually-” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I was hoping you’d do it for me.”
Shakira arched back slightly to look up at him. “Why?”
“You know how London feels about me,” he said. “She’ll probably refuse just because I’m the one asking.”
“No.” Shakira shook her head. “If this was something else - something to benefit just her, she’d probably refuse. But this is about the Xin Monsters, not just her. So she’ll listen to you.”
Zeke’s eyebrows arched. “You think so?”
Shakira nodded. “I do.”
“Okay, then-”
“Can I cut in?” Nathan cut short their tête-à-tête as he came to a stop beside them.
“Nathan, Zeke and I were talking,” Shakira derided even as amusement danced in her brown eyes.
“And you can finish later,” Nathan said as he reached for her hand. “Right now I want the dance you owe me.”
“I guess that’s my cue to find a new dance partner.” Zeke chuckled as he released his sister-in-law into his brother’s care. However, before he could find another dance partner, Mark, the hotel manager, drew him aside to discuss accommodation for their guests.
The good thing about hosting a wedding in your own hotel was that food and accommodation was readily available and extraordinarily cheap. The bad thing was that the staff were constantly underfoot trying to impress him and the family. Even though they were perfectly capable of handling the mini-crises that came up, they kept asking for his input and reassurance that they were doing a good job.
Any other time, he would’ve pulled Mark aside to remind him that he was hired because he was a capable manager with years of experience and didn’t need constant handholding. But this wasn’t any other time. This was Danny’s wedding and Zeke didn’t want anything to go wrong. So he had no problems keeping a close eye on the arrangements.
Fortunately, the staff was just as capable as he expected and almost everything went smoothly. The only hiccup they had was not having enough rooms for the wedding guests who’d checked in this morning just before the ceremony. But Zeke and Mark managed to resolve that quickly enough by transferring the younger guests to the family cottages. Which worked out great because then they could have their wedding after-parties without incurring the wrath of the older guests.
Long after everyone had retreated to their respective alcoves, Zeke was still haunting the hallways of the hotel making sure that everything for tomorrow was set up.
“What time have you set up the morning calls?” Zeke asked Mark as they stood in the lobby.
“Eight, since we’ve set up breakfast for nine a.m.”
“Make it seven and start with the kids in the cottages,” he ordered. “It’s going to take them a moment to work off those hangovers. Have you organized pick-ups for the airport?”
“Yes.” Mark nodded. “Two buses are already here, and Vancamp says they’re sending the other two by six in the morning.”
“Good.” Zeke asked, “A separate van for those using the private plane?”
“Yes, it’s here t-”
“Enzo, please just go to bed,” London’s shrill voice cut into Mark’s words.
Both Zeke and Mark turned towards the sound of her voice, to find her emerging from the glass double doors that led out to the car-park with her band-mate, Enzo, on her heels. She said, “You’re drunk and I don’t feel like dealing with you right now.”
“London, wait please.” Enzo stalked her. With his shock of black hair, pale skin, beanpole physique and black clothes, he looked like he’d just walked off the set of a bad vampire movie. Grabbing London’s arm, he said, “What’s wrong with me that you won’t even give me a chance?”
London whirled around to face him as she tried to tug her hand from his grip. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m just not interested in a relationship right now.”
“When will you be interested?” Enzo stared at her wildly as he kept a tight hold on her arm even though she kept trying to dislodge his grip. Considering how petite she was, it was easy for the man to hold her hostage.
“Please, let my arm go,” London pleaded, frustration evident in her voice.
“No,” Enzo refused. “We’re not done here.”
And that was Zeke’s cue to intervene.
“Yes, you are.” He strode down the lobby towards them.
Both London and Enzo turned toward him. The moment Enzo’s gaze focused on Zeke, recognition flooded his eyes. He quickly let go of London’s arm and released an embarrassed laugh. “We were just having a friendly conversation.”
“What’s wrong? You didn’t hear me?” Zeke said coldly, noting how quickly London darted away from Enzo as she rubbed her arm. “The conversation is over.”
“London and I are just playing,” Enzo said, his nervous smile still in place. “You know how friends are.”
Enzo looked like he wanted to protest. But one glance at Zeke’s fisted hands and he lifted his hands in surrender and turned on his heels. The moment Enzo was gone, the tension pulsing in the space seemed to dissipate and the air almost seemed lighter.
Zeke turned his gaze to London who was standing a distance away still rubbing her arm, her eyes holding a troubled light. He asked, “You all right?”
“You didn’t have to get involved,” she mumbled. “I was handling it.”
Didn’t look like it, he wanted to say but restrained himself. Instead, he said, “Let me escort to your room.”
“No, thanks,” she said curtly, before turning and heading straight towards the same double doors that Enzo had just exited through.
“Please tell me you’re not going after him,” Zeke said as he followed on her heels.
“Of course not.” London shot him an irritated glance as she charged out the door. “I’m going to get drunk.”
CHAPTER 2
London was so angry she could feel her blood boiling in her veins. She still couldn’t believe Enzo had had the nerve to ambush her like that, grab her like that. How many times had she told him she wasn’t into him? Dozens of times, hundreds even. Yet her words never seemed to penetrate his thick skull.
“Is Enzo always so violent with you?” A deep voice startled her out of her thoughts. She quickly swiveled to find Zeke strolling down the steps behind her with his hands in his suit-pants. She’d been so lost in her musings she hadn’t even noticed that he’d followed her.
His features were set in their usual solemn, indecipherable state, and she wasn’t in the least surprised to note that despite the warm weather and the fact that the wedding ceremony had ended hours ago, he was still in the uptight wedding suit complete with perfectly knotted tie.
Annoyance rippled through her. The man looked perfect, as if he’d just stepped from some Forbes photo-shoot. Even though the wind currently ruffled his dark hair, he somehow managed to look perfectly windblown. His irritating perfection always made her feel so messy - like an unmade bed. Made her want to smooth down her hair, change from the shorts and tank top she was wearing into something more formal, and surreptitiously check her teeth for spinach.
Which was completely ridiculous since she didn’t care what he thought of her or her clothes. In fact, she didn’t even want him looking at her.
“Stop following me,” she ordered.
“It’s one a.m.,” he said in that quiet way he had that irritated the hell out of her. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dad. Now, shoo.” She waved at him before turning to continue her walk towards the hotel’s bar. Zeke followed right along. She turned back to him, her eyes narrowing and her voice rising with her exasperation. “If I wanted a stalker I would’ve kept Enzo. Bye, Felicia.”
“Who’s Felicia?” he asked, his tone unconcerned.
“Felicia is-” She kissed her teeth. Why was she even talking to him? Determined not to let the irritating man disrupt her fabulous plan to get drunk and forget everything Enzo, she turned away and took the last few steps down the stairs.
Even as she skirted past the large, oval swimming pool towards the wall-less bar she could still sense Zeke behind her. The bar was empty except for the bartender and a couple seated at the table to the furthest corner of the space. Ignoring Zeke, London headed directly towards the long bar.
The bartender smiled when he saw London and Zeke headed his way. The moment London slid onto one of the barstools he greeted, “Good evening, Ma’am. Sir.”
“Hi,” London returned with a smile.
“Evening, Jim,” Zeke greeted affably as he settled on the barstool next to London. “Busy evening, I see.”
“Saturdays are a good night.” Jim asked, “What can I get you two?”
“We’re not together.” London said, “Brandy. Neat. And put it-” She jerked a thumb towards Zeke without looking at him. “- On his tab.”
“Isn’t brandy too hard for this time of the night?” Zeke asked.
Seriously? London snapped her head in his direction and glared at him so hard, he raised his hands in surrender. Still glowering at him, she repeated to the bartender, “Jim, please get me a brandy, neat. And make it a double.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Jim turned to Zeke. “Sir, what about you?”
“Nothing for me.” Zeke shook his head. “Thank you.”
The bartender scooted off to get her drink - or maybe to get away from the heat searing between her and Zeke.
Still staring at Zeke, London gritted between her teeth, “Go away.”
He, of course, ignored her. Propping his arm on the counter, he said, “Getting drunk won’t get Enzo off your back.”
London widened her eyes in mock shock. “No shit.”
“I’m serious.” Zeke watched her, his eyes softening in what could only be described as… concern. Yuck. Like she needed his concern. He added, “He won’t leave you alone unless someone is firm with him.”
“What?” London’s mouth fell open in faux-surprise. “You don’t say.”
“London, be serious.” His brow knotted in concern, he said, “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you.”
“Because what you like matters sooo much to me.” London snorted. Just then Jim came back with her drink and set it in front of her. She offered the bartender a smile, raised her glass in a silent toast, before tossing back a healthy gulp. The liquid burned a searing path down her throat. Just the way she liked.
To be honest she didn’t like how Enzo had grabbed her either. But he wasn’t usually that violent. Okay, he could be possessive sometimes… but it’d never gotten physical. This was just the frustration of her rejecting him that was getting to him.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Enzo. In fact, she loved him. She just wasn’t in love with him. It was hard to fall in love with someone you thought of as your brother – plus he was too high-strung for her. His hitting on her had started out as light flirting and she’d let it go then because - well, he was Enzo. He was the friend who’d been there for her even before Shakira and she couldn’t even contemplate hurting him. When he’d become more insistent, she’d had to tell him that she didn’t feel the same way about him.
It wasn’t enough.
Enzo could be pigheaded when he wanted something, and he wanted her. Usually London had no problem being cruel to men who didn’t get the hint, but it was hard to be tough on Enzo. And she risked breaking their friendship if she was. The unfortunate consequence of her reluctance to hurt him was that his attempts at seducing her had persisted and even gotten more desperate (which only made him more unattractive). If only she knew of an effective way to dissuade him without losing him. Sighing tiredly, she took another sip of her drink.
Zeke who’d been watching her in silence the whole time offered softly, “Let me talk to Enzo.”
“No.” She took another throat-burning swallow of her drink. For a long moment she was silent as she sipped on her drink and stared at the landscape painting directly across her. But even then she could feel Zeke’s quiet yet somehow irritating glance burning into the side of her. Finally she turned to him and announced, “You are seriously killing my vibe. Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
He shook his head. “No.”
London stared at him for a long time before she said, “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”
This time he actually smiled. “No.”
The man was so annoying.
She stared at him broodingly for a while before kissing her teeth. “Well, if you’re going to keep hanging around me like some creepy stalker at least drink something.”
“Okay.” He waved the bartender over, then said, “Club soda, please.”
“Hell, no,” London cut in. “Jim, get the man anothe
r brandy.” When Zeke opened his mouth to protest, she jumped in before he could. “If I’m getting drunk, you’re getting drunk too. No way are you going to be sober while I’m drunk.”
Zeke pushed his glasses higher up his nose. “I don’t get drunk.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Everybody gets drunk.”
“I don’t.”
“Because you don’t drink?” she asked. That she could understand. The guy was such a boring stick she wouldn’t be surprised to find that he picketed alcohol factories during his free time.
“No, I drink.” Zeke shrugged. “I just don’t get drunk. I have a high alcohol tolerance.”
That sounded like a challenge, right? There was a reason London held the beer pong trophies in three colleges even though she’d never attended college herself. And she was sure the only reason Zeke thought he had high-alcohol tolerance was because he’d never met anyone who could show him what the term really meant. Well, today was his lucky day.
She smiled. “Care to prove that?”
Suspicion immediately tinged Zeke’s eyes. “I’m not getting into a drinking competition with you.”
“Mm mm.” London pursed her lips and shook her head. “A snob and a coward. It must suck to be you.”
“I’m not-” Zeke stopped talking. He looked pensive for a long moment before saying, “You know I’ll beat you, right? You’re a woman and half my weight.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. It’s just science. I metabolize alcohol faster than you.”
She gave him a toothy grin. “Then put your money where your mouth is, genius.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not planning to cheat, are you?”
Her eyebrows rose. “How would I cheat?”
He stared at her suspiciously for quite a while before nodding curtly. “Fine. How are we doing this?”
Her grin widened. “First one to black out pays a thousand dollars.”
He reared backwards in surprise. “Do you have that kind of money?”