Mr. Mitchell: Billionaires’ Club Book 2 (Billionaires’ Club Series)

Itook Avery’s and my duffle bags to the garage, and I started to load them into the trunk of the car that I had hoped she would enjoy making the one-hour trip to Thornbury in.

“Holy mother of…” She covered her mouth as she walked toward where I was placing my briefcase in the back, which was insurance in case I needed assistance if shit went down that Alex couldn’t handle alone. “That’s a classic Ferrari, isn’t it?”

“And my bride is a car enthusiast. If I would’ve known that, I would’ve married you earlier.”

She rolled her eyes and snatched the keys from my hand. “Do I still get to drive this baby?” She dangled the keys in front of my face.

I felt my godforsaken phone buzzing, and I knew some company shit was busting loose again. I slipped it out of my slacks, which I’d put on out of habit—I could change into my jeans at Thornbury Castle.

“Is that phone buzzing in your pants the reason you need a driver?” Avery questioned with a devious smile.

“It is.” I ran my hand through my hair, then smiled at her. “It also means that it appears my driver is now going to be you…since I just informed my driver that I wouldn’t be using his services today.”

She planted her hands on both hips and shook her head. “You’re missing out, man. You have this classic car, and sadly, you can’t enjoy it because if you don’t answer that call, you most likely won’t be able to keep and afford it.”

“Just get in the driver’s seat, gorgeous,” I said, unable to resist brushing my hand over her tight ass.

I hit the call-back button. “What’s going on, Dave?” I asked my public relations assistant, and the man could hardly get three words out before we were buckled up, and Avery brought the low growl of the engine to life and peeled out of the driveway.

I laughed at first, and then lowered my phone from my ear as Avery drove like a bat out of hell with its ass on fire.

“The other goddamn side of the road,” I tried to say as calmly as I could.

“Christ. Forgot about that; sorry.” She cringed with a sympathetic smile.

“Forgive the interruption, Dave.” I went back to my phone once Avery got her bearings. “What can I help you with?”

“They need to know your take on the docuseries before presenting it to the London offices.”

“Alex handled this,” I said. “No.” I rubbed my forehead. “Forgive me. You are correct. We’ll be putting it on hold. I’m not entirely convinced this is the route I want to go.” I glanced up, forgetting about the roundabout that Avery was entering. “Fucking…” I held onto the word after we were nearly side-swiped by a car and were now stuck in this roundabout, driving in circles, “hell.” I let out a breath. “Dave, I need to handle some shit. Cancel any further viewing until I give the final word and get more info back from Dr. Brooks. Anything else?” I asked as Avery continued to look for a way out of the roundabout, but remained safe in the damn thing by the grace of God.

“That was it. Thanks, Jim,” he answered, then we hung up.

“Avery,” I said, watching her keep the car in low gears and us looking like the jackasses we were acting like. “You need to take that exit,” I pointed at the upcoming turnoff. “Burford Road.”

“How the fuck do I get out of this goddamn thing?” she asked with frustration and a laugh. “I hope the business is doing swell, but we’re in this position because I have no navigation, and these people drive like lunatics.”

“Avery,” I said calmly, “merge onto the exit, Bufor—shit…it’s 429. Right here, take this road. Avery, right there. Here, right here!” I was vomiting out directions like an idiot.

Avery threw her head back and laughed as she took the exit. We survived Avery’s first roundabout in England, but we weren’t finished yet. I knew the next one was less than a mile away.

“Jesus Almighty.” She sighed. “That was insane.” She sped up while I held her phone to her face and unlocked it. “Hey,” she said, trying to focus on the road. “What the hell are you doing with my phone?”

“Loading your GPS in case the office calls.”

“Oh, cool, good idea. What the fuck? Not another one of these bastards.”

I glanced over at her. “Just merge into it like you’re getting on a freeway in Southern California. This is no worse than the crazy drivers there.”

The GPS was spouting off demands as Avery panicked in the second roundabout. “Shit, Jim, maybe the road to this castle wasn’t the best route for me to drive.”

“My driver handles these just fine,” I said smugly while watching her frustration rise, trying to get out of this roundabout. “However, we didn’t need him, remember?”

“I feel like a goddamn hamster in a wheel. Every time I go to get out, a fucking car gets in here.”

“Slow the car and take the exit that your GPS is practically glitching as it screams at you.”

“Good idea.”

“Yeah, lead foot, it might help to keep it at low speeds to navigate.”

“Hold on. Shush. I have to think,” she said with a laugh as she turned the polished wood steering wheel and led us off on the exit.

“There’s another one coming up. You’re just going to merge this like you’re getting on the freeway and hang a left onto Swindon Road.”

“What is this, a fucking tilt-a-whirl for cars?” She blew her hair out of her face. “Hang a fucking left? How do I hang a damn left when I’m driving on the wrong side of the road, and I’m in the wrong seat too?”

“The same way you hang a right when you’re driving on the left side, I suppose,” I said as she flipped me off for my comment. “Hey, I was going to call the driver. You’re the one who grabbed the keys, gorgeous.” I chuckled, seeing another email pop in from my assistant in my London office.

“Holy shit.” She raised her hands off the steering wheel and danced in her seat. “I fucking dominated that bitch.”

“Only three laps this time.’ I smirked.

“If you can shut the phone off, you could be behind the wheel and driving this car. It’s the most glorious thing in the world.”

“Fine, you can pull over,” I said. “Seriously, there are more roundabouts, and I’m in the mood to get to the castle, not spend my night going in circles.”

She reached over and lightly punched my arm. “See, I knew I could get you driving again.” She eased the car off the main road and stepped out. “It just took my pretending I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”

I met her at the trunk and pulled her into my arms. “You weren’t pretending.” I lifted her chin to press my lips to her smiling ones. “Besides, it’s raining, and the last thing we need is the GPS shouting, you laughing, and windshield wipers adding to all of that while we’re dizzy from going in circles.”

“Just drive my ass to this castle,” she said with that damn smile that intrigued me from the first moment I met her on the plane to London. “At least I learned something new today—when in England, don’t drive like a crazy American.” She laughed.

We sat in the car, settled, and took off. How long had it been since I’d turned it all off and drove one of my cars? This was somewhat healing to my soul. It was so relaxing.

“What do you know about Thornbury?” I asked, maneuvering the next roundabout a bit less theatrically than Avery would have.

“Well, from what the flyer said, it is haunted, and also, you can stay in the same rooms as Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn when they stayed here.” She gripped my arm. “Do you think if we play into this lie, they’ll let us stay in that room?”

“As much as the Tudor Dynasty is fascinating with the mark it left here, do you truly want to stay in the room that man stayed in?”

“When he was with Anne, he was cool, remember?”

“So, he only was not cool after he beheaded Anne Boleyn? I think Katherine of Aragon would disagree.”

“I don’t know when he went nuts. I know he suffered injuries and went crazy.”

“Do you think that’s why he killed Duke of Buckingham and seized this castle?”

“I know his uncle, Jasper Tudor, haunts the bottom floors of Thornbury because he hates women,” she answered. “Henry killed the duke?”

“You seem to have a fascination, as most do, with this particular king. Can you guess why he charged him with high treason and had him beheaded at the Tower of London?”

“Well, if I’m honest, I got my obsession with the king because of a TV show.” She bit her bottom lip.

“Interesting.” I laughed. “Do you find it fascinating outside of that particular series?”

“It piqued my interest enough to know I wanted to see sights of the Tudors when I was out here. Little did I know I’d be going to a real castle—that is a hotel—and staying there, with a hot guy,” she said and placed her hand over mine on the gear shift. I loved the gesture. “Tell me why he killed the duke.”

“On top of the fact that Buckingham was going behind his back because he believed he had a stronger claim to the throne, owning nicer things than Henry wasn’t something the king appreciated. Thornbury was just something else to stick in Henry’s craw.” I arched my brow at her, at ease from enjoying driving my car that I never took out. I was missing out on so many things in life, no matter how simple.

“Dude was a dick. Sort of like Jasper Tudor, haunting the bottom floor. I still need to learn why, though.”

“That I don’t know,” I answered. “I’ve never gone down the paranormal route to the history of ghosts in England.”

“This is the coolest thing ever, though.” She unbuckled and brought her lips to my cheek, “We have to have sex there, and this will beat out every cool memory I have in my visit.”

“We’re most definitely having sex, gorgeous. I’m not that fucking stupid.” I smiled at her.

Once we arrived, Avery was in awe of everything. Even I stood in amazement at the five-hundred-year-old castle. The history poured out of this place, but the only history I was attentive to was the history of the stunning woman who held tightly to my hand as we walked toward the main entrance.

I secured the room that Henry and Anne stayed in, believing that would add to the memory of Avery’s visit. While she started taking pictures of the castle, our bags were taken to the duke’s suite. I finalized our dinner menu—knowing these plates were deliciously smaller than Avery liked—and ensured our dining table was well situated. I wanted her to enjoy the candles, the ambience, and the feeling of being back in time that she was so fascinated with—all while the chefs took care of her appetite.

As we walked into our room, I saw that it was situated to overlook the best views of the gardens and lawns that, if this rain let up, Avery would be able to explore. I watched her take in the grand room, unaware this was the room that Henry and Anne had stayed in for ten days to avoid an outbreak of the plague.

Then my phone buzzed.

“Alex? You’re either in the hospital or every last employee quit on us.”

“The opposite. I have news you need to know.”

“Jim,” Avery said, picking up a booklet, “this is where Henry and Anne stayed. In this room! I’m literally in Henry the Eighth’s room.” She held the leaflet to her chest and walked toward the window.

“Did a woman just bring up Henry the fucking Eighth?” Alex asked, his mood lighter. “What the living hell are you up to?”

“Don’t worry about it. Say what you called to say. Stay on topic.”

“Henry the Eighth?” he repeated.

“Alex,” I said, moving across the room. “What the hell did you call for?”

“Oh, that gaming company we lost?”

“Yes.”

“Julia is married to one of the punks.”

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“You’re not surprised, are you?”

“She’s a fucking predator, man. Dipping into the college-aged kids now? I mean, these kids are in their early twenties. She’s thirty-two.”

“You got passed over for some gaming kid.” Alex laughed. “They’re scared that leaving Mitchell and Associates might damage them.”

“Good. Let them sit on that until I get back.”

“Julia is answering your request to attend the meeting.”

“You think I can’t handle that crazy bitch?”

“No, I just want to be there when you do,” Alex said with a smile in his voice.

“After fielding all this shit while I’m trying to stay off for a bit, you’ve earned the right to watch that show.”

“All right, sweet. Who’s the chick?” Alex pried.

“The woman I introduced you to at the restaurant.”

“Oh, no shit? Goddamn, my mind is shot.”

“Have you slept at all?” I asked, worried he might’ve been burning the candle at both ends without my help.

“I did. I just woke up to this email and couldn’t believe what Scott found after I had him do a little digging.”

“Well, tell him I appreciate it.”

“Good call in not reacting and going off. You’re right. Let’s let them sweat it out.”

“Glad that after all these years, you’re taking my word on shit.”

“You can’t blame me. You were acting massively out of character.”

“Yeah, perhaps. All right, we good?”

“Yep, I’ll hit you if any other bigger news breaks.”

“Got it. See ya.”

“Well, well.” Avery walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I think we start this all off by getting busy in that bed.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Thank God I took over driving, or we’d be off the optimum time I allocated for this all to work out with fucking first, tours, tea and cakes, then fucking again, roaming the grounds, fucking again, and then dinner?”

Avery stood on her toes and kissed my chin. “I might need to walk tomorrow. I’m already sore from last night.”

“Quit fucking with me,” I said, and she fumbled with my belt.

“We need to get on your optimum time schedule, Jim,” she said with a sultry voice. “And I’ve been aching for this dick of yours since I woke up.”

I captured her lips at that moment. This shit was fun. I was staying at some historical castle I’d never given any thought to, and there was no call for meetings and business for me to do while I was here.

Avery was somehow getting into my mind and soul and changing me. Now it was time I showed her how desperately I missed being deep inside her. The day was young, and it was time to christen the room and move along to teas, cakes, and tours of Thornbury Castle.