The Casanova (The Miles High Club Book 3)

I slowly lead her to the elevator and I hit the button. She sways and I put my arm around her to hold her up. “Stay still.”

She looks up at me and I smirk as I look down at her.

“Don’t,” she slurs as she falls to the side.

I pull her back against my body. “Don’t what?”

“An”—her eyes flutter—“noy me.”

I chuckle. “Impossible.” The doors open and I lead her in and we turn and face the front. She puts her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes. I catch sight of us in the reflection on the doors: now that’s something I never thought I’d see.

Kathryn Landon, sleepy and calm, under my arm.

The doors open into the lobby and I slowly walk her out; she’s so docile.

“Is everything alright, sir?” The security guard comes running.

“She’s groggy, had a reaction to some medication.”

“Can I do anything?” he splutters as he looks between us.

“No, thank you, I’ll see that she gets home safely.”

He practically runs for the door and he holds it open for us.

My Bentley is parked in the bay outside, and Andrew gets out and frowns as he sees me nearly carrying Kate. “What’s wrong with her?” he asks.

“Just groggy, a reaction to medication, we’ll get her home.”

He opens the back door in a rush.

“In the car,” I say to Kate.

She closes her eyes as her head leans against my chest. “I’m just going to . . . walk.”

Fuck’s sake.

I put my hand on the top of her head and push her down, maneuver her into the right position, and then with one almighty shove she falls into the backseat.

“Ow.” She grimaces.

I shuffle in beside her and close the door. “Where do you live?” I ask as we pull out into the traffic.

She points out of the window. “Over there.”

“Over where?”

“Out. There,” she snaps as if exasperated.

I roll my eyes; even when drugged this woman is annoying. “Tell me your address or I’m looking through your luggage again.”

“It’s twenty-four . . .” She frowns and holds her finger up. “No wait, that’s my old address . . . ummmm.”

“Christ almighty.” I drag my hand down my face in frustration.

“I know it,” she continues.

“And?”

“It’s . . . forty-four/a Kent Road.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sshh, stop talking,” she whispers as she holds her finger up to her lips in an overexaggerated way. “You’re hurting my ears.” She points with both hands to her ears.

I smirk at her acting out every word.

“Forty-four Kent Road,” I say to Andrew.

“Sure thing, boss.” He turns right at the next junction.

Kate’s head falls and I pull her back under my arm and hold her close. She closes her eyes and rests against my chest.

We drive for ten minutes in the traffic and then she falls deeper into sleep and puts her hand up on my chest and nestles in tight.

I frown down at her as a weird feeling comes over me.

Hmm . . . interesting.

After a while, Andrew pulls the car into a parking space, then he turns and looks at us. “This is it.”

I frown as I peer at the old terraced building. “This is it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Kate,” I whisper; she stays asleep and I give her a little shake. “Kate,” I whisper again.

“If you’re trying to wake her, you don’t need to whisper,” Andrew mutters.

“Eyes on the road,” I snap.

Smart-ass.

He chuckles as he gets out, and opens the back door on my side. I climb out and then lean back in. “Kate,” I say loudly. “Wake up, we’re home.”

Andrew reaches in to help.

“I’ve got this,” I say.

She frowns as she comes to and looks around sleepily. “Huh.”

I hold my hand out to her and she takes it and I pull her over toward me, but she slips off the seat and onto the floor of the car. “Oh . . .”

I chuckle as I reach down for her, she’s all legs and arms and tangled up. “That red dress a little slippery, old girl?”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he mutters under his breath.

I take her hand, pull her out of the car and wrap my arm around her. We slowly walk up the six steps leading to the terrace.

“Walk up the steps,” I direct her.

She goes to sit down on the bottom step. “I’ll just sleep here.”

“Kate,” I say in my best authoritative voice. “Concentrate and walk up the steps please.”

She goes to sit down again and I glance back at Andrew, who’s laughing and leaning on the side of the car as he watches the show.

“Shut up,” I mouth.

He smiles with a wink and lights his cigarette.

That’s the thing with having the same driver for seven years, they get too fucking comfortable.

“Kate,” I snap. “Walk up the stairs and then you can go to sleep.”

“Hmm.” She smiles with her eyes closed, takes one step.

“That’s it.”

She takes two more.

“Good girl.”

“I sleep here.”

I keep pulling her up and we get to the front door, and I ring the bell.

Kate leans on me and closes her eyes; I wrap my arm around her tight.

Two tablets and this is her . . . I would hate to think what would happen if she actually had some hard stuff.

I ring the bell again . . . no answer.

“Kate, is anyone home?”

“Yeah.” She smiles goofily up at me. “We are.”

“I mean, your flatmates.”

She shrugs and goes back to leaning on me.

“Where are your keys?” I ask.

She shrugs once more.

“For fuck’s sake.” I rattle through her handbag and dig out the keys. “What key is it?”

“Red one.”

I get the red key and open the door. “Hello,” I call.

No answer.

I look back toward the car and Andrew shrugs.

“Bed for you,” I say, walk her in, and close the door behind us.

Once we have negotiated her apartment’s front door, I ask, “Where is your bedroom?”

She points up the steep, narrow stairs and I peer up. Oh hell. “Of course it is.”

I think for a moment. What do I do now? I can’t just leave her here.

“Alright.” I bend and lift her over my shoulder.

“Oh . . . don’t,” she slurs. “Put me down.”

“Shut up.” I slap her behind. I take one step, then two.

I take another few steps and my thighs begin to burn. My chest tightens.

I stumble back, oh . . . fuck it.

Don’t drop her.

Nothing is easy with this damn woman.

I grit my teeth and begin to climb the stairs as fast as I can.

“Put me down,” she moans, and I slap her behind again.

“Behave yourself. Breaking my back is the last thing I wanted to do tonight.”

We get to the top and I put her back onto her feet as I clutch my chest and gasp for air. Holy hell.

That was hard.

She teeters on her feet and I grab her hand and drag her into her bedroom.

I walk her over to the bed and pull the covers back and lie her down. I take one sneaker off and she kicks her foot as if to get me to stop.

“You know”—I undo the laces on the other shoe—“lots of women would die for me to take their shoes off in bed.”

“Desper potatoes,” she slurs.

“They are not desperados.” I smile as the other shoe comes free. She’s wearing pale pink socks, and I tuck her legs in and pull the covers up over her.

She smiles up at me and holds her hand out.

I take it in mine and sit down beside her; her eyelids are heavy and she battles to keep them open. I brush the hair back from her forehead as I look down at her.

Her blonde hair is splayed across her pillow and her big lips are a pouty rose color. Her dark lashes flutter as she tries to keep her eyes open.

She really is quite . . .

I look up at her room, painted cream with a large white timber bed. There is a bookshelf and a dressing table, makeup in baskets, and photo frames; it feels very lived in. Fairy lights are strewn around the ceiling and a large reading chair with an ottoman is in the corner. Looks like a dorm room I would have visited back in the day.

My gaze comes back to Kate and she’s sleeping soundly, her hand still holding mine.

I find myself smiling as I watch her. What do I do now? I mean, I can’t just leave her here alone. What if something happened?

That would be negligent.

I guess I’ll have to wait.

An hour later, I need to go to the bathroom but Kate is still firmly holding my hand. I move it a little and she frowns and grips me tighter. “Don’t,” she murmurs sleepily.

“I’m coming straight back,” I whisper.

“I said no.”

Demanding witch. I’m starving fucking hungry and about to piss myself.

Well, tough shit.

I get up and walk into her en-suite bathroom and look around; it’s small.

A basket with dirty clothes; pink towels and a matching bath mat. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands and then walk back out into her room. I walk over to her bookshelf and look at all the photos in the frames—one of an older couple, and one of her at a young age with them, they must be her parents. A photo of a dog, a black-and-white border collie. A photo of her and a man who looks around her age, taken a few years ago. I wonder, was this a boyfriend?

She said she didn’t have a boyfriend.

I keep looking through her belongings—a few crystals strategically placed.

Don’t tell me she’s one of those nut jobs who believe in crystal healing.

Hmm.

It’s very eclectic in here. So unlike my perfectly styled penthouse.

I look along the spines of the books—what does she read?

Ugh, romance reader.

I would never have guessed that one.

There’s a small crystal dish and an array of gold jewelry. I smile as I pick up one of her rings and put it on the end of my pinkie finger.

Tiny hands.

I take it off and put it back and keep looking through her photos. It’s like show-and-tell and I’m learning all about her.

And surprisingly, not a cauldron in sight.

I retrieve her phone from her handbag and go back and sit down beside her, and she rolls toward me and puts her hand over my thighs.

My stomach flutters.

Stop it.

I really should be going, I’ve been here for hours. Where the fuck is that stupid Daniel and his sickly white teeth now?

“Kate.” I wake her. “Kate.” I hold her phone in front of her. “Unlock your phone for me, I’m going to call someone.”

She frowns and nestles closer into my thigh, and I run my fingers through her hair. We sit like this for a while and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

But I’m hungry; it’s now nearly 10 p.m.

“Kate.” I hold the phone up to her face. “Unlock your phone, please.”

“Hmm.”

“Kate.”

She fumbles around with it with her eyes still closed and passes it back to me.

She nestles back into my thigh and I watch her for a moment.

Okay, I’ll admit it.

I like her.

Not like her, like her, I just don’t hate her like I thought I did.

I go through the list of contacts as I look for the name Daniel.

Hmm, no Daniel.

I don’t know his last name . . . fuck.

That guy is fucking useless on all fronts.

Another hour later.

Maybe I’ll just go downstairs and get something to eat? Then maybe . . . I’ll just sleep here with her?

I mean, I can’t leave her alone.

Yeah, I’ll do that.

The bedroom door opens and I look up, startled. It’s Daniel.

Kate is fast asleep and her hand is in mine.

He frowns when he sees me and looks between Kate and I.

“She’s out cold,” I offer as an explanation.

“Umm . . . What’s going on?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“She had a reaction to some medication and was groggy. I found her passed out in the office and brought her home.”

His eyes widen. “We need to take her to the hospital.”

“I already called emergency services, and she’s okay. Just sleepy, I’ve checked already. She’s conscious, just sleeping.”

He stares at her. “Wow.”

I stand. “I’ll go now that you’re here.”

He sits on the side of the bed beside her. “Baby?” he says. “Are you okay?”

An unfamiliar feeling swirls in my stomach as I watch him with her.

Don’t call her baby.

I clench my jaw as I move toward the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Daniel stands and shakes my hand. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate you caring for her. I’ll take it from here.”

I stare at him; okay, I don’t like this guy.

He’s too . . . familiar.

“I’m not sure if I should leave her with you?” I say.

His face falls. “Why not?”

“I mean, how do I know you aren’t going to take advantage of her.”

“Because I’m her friend . . . and I live with her.”

I straighten my tie as I go over my options. “Hmm.” I rearrange my cufflinks.

“Look Mr.—” he says.

“Elliot Miles,” I interrupt him.

He gives me a stifled smile. “Mr. Miles, thank you for looking after her, but I’m home now. I appreciate all you’ve done.”

“Fine.” I take one last look around the room. “I’ll be in touch.”

I head toward the door and then stop and take the gold business card case from my pocket, handing over my card. “Call me if something is wrong or if anything changes.”

He frowns as he takes the card from me. “Okay, I will.”

“Goodnight.”

I march down the stairs and out the front door, walk over to my Bentley, and get into the backseat.

“Where to, boss?” Andrew asks as we pull out into the traffic.

“Anywhere with food.”

KATE

I wake to the deep throb in my stomach and I wince.

Oww, period pain.

I drag my eyes open—I need to go to the bathroom. I sit up and frown as I look down at myself.

Huh?

Why am I wearing this?

I go to step out of bed and tread on a blanket on my floor. “What’s that?”

I flick my lamp on and see that Daniel is asleep on top of the couch cushions on the floor beside my bed. “What the hell?” I step over him and go to the bathroom.

It’s urgent now.

Damn it, periods are a design fault in the female human body.

I sit on the toilet as I go over last night. Wait . . . what am I doing in my netball dress?

Hang on, I don’t even remember playing netball.

I was at the office . . . and then . . . what?

And what’s Daniel doing asleep on my floor?

I have a quick shower as I wrack my brain about last night’s events. Was I drinking . . .

I’m completely blank, jeez.

I pull my robe on and walk back out into my bedroom to see Daniel awake and leaning up on his elbow. “How are you feeling?”

“Why was I in my netball dress?”

He sits up, surprised. “You don’t remember?”

“I . . .” I pause as I try to. “No, I . . . I’m at a loss.”

“You passed out at work, apparently had a reaction to some medication or something.”

“Are you serious?” I think back. “Yes . . . the pain tablets. Shit.”

“Luckily Elliot found you.”

My eyes snap back to Daniel. “Who?”

“Elliot Miles brought you home.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“But nobody was here so he stayed with you until I arrived.”

My hands go to my head in horror. “What the fuck? He came . . . here?”

I begin to pace.

“Looked pretty damn at home too, sitting there holding your hand and all.”

I smile in relief. “Oh, fuck off, you nearly had me for a moment. What really happened, did we get drunk?”

“I’m deadly serious.” He stands and goes over to my bedside table, picks up a white card and passes it to me.

ELLIOT MILES

0423 009 973

“Nooooooo,” I splutter. “Oh no, no, no, no.” My heart begins to race. I point to the floor. “He was here. In my bedroom?” I point to the floor again. “Here.”

“Yes.”

I push my fingers into my eye sockets in horror. “Why did you let him in?” I look around at my bombshell of a bedroom. “This place is a fucking mess.”

Daniel shrugs. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

“Why? What, I mean . . . Why do you say that?”

“He seemed very happy holding your hand.”

My eyes hit saucer size. “He was actually holding my hand . . . what the fuck was I doing?”

“You were all snuggled into him.”

“What!” I screech. I drop my head into my hands. “Oh my God, I’m going to die a thousand deaths.”

“You know you should be grateful. He was looking after you.”

“Are you kidding me?” I cry, storm into my bathroom, and look around: there’s a basket of dirty washing and tampons are on the cabinet next to the sink.

He saw this mess, he saw me asleep . . . I was snuggled into him.

“Kill me now!” I cry. “My life is officially over.”

Daniel chuckles as he goes to walk out of the room. “I must say, he’s fucking hot though, right?”

I pick up a cushion off my bed and hurl it at him. “Get out.”

“Thank you for sleeping on my floor and checking on me all night, Daniel,” he says sweetly.

“Thanks for ruining my life and letting him in,” I cry.

“I didn’t let him in, you let him in.”

Oh no.

Another horrible thought enters my brain. “What the fuck did I say to him?”

I begin to pace as I run my hands through my hair in dismay. “What if I told him . . .” I whisper out loud to myself.

“That you think he’s hot?” Daniel interrupts my mental breakdown.

My eyes flick up to him. “I do not,” I snap.

Daniel smirks. “If you didn’t think he was hot, then it wouldn’t matter that he saw your dirty panties in the laundry basket and your tampons on the side.”

“Ahhhh,” I cry as I slap my hands over my eyes. “Get out!”

Daniel whistles as he saunters down the stairs.

I sink into a seated position on the bed as I feel the blood drain from my face.

This is beyond . . . mortifying.

Humiliation, is there a worse emotion?

I take the elevator to the top floor with my tail between my legs.

I inhale with a shaky breath, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been so nervous.

Or horrified.

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life, and passing out at work in a netball dress is up there. But letting Elliot Miles drive me home while I was high takes the absolute cake.

What kind of fucking idiot invites her bastard boss into her messy bedroom with tampons strewn all over her bathroom and then snuggles up to him?

I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is it, the end of my career. It was nice knowing you, Miles Media. He didn’t respect me before, and he sure as hell is going to throw this in my face for all of eternity.

I’ll have to find another job? I can’t stay here . . . not now.

The elevator doors open at the top floor and I step out. Elliot’s PA looks up from her computer and smiles. I wither a little. Does she know? Has he told everyone?

Am I the laughing stock?

“Hello Courtney.” I smile awkwardly.

“Go in dear, he’s expecting you.”

I bet he is.

I fake a smile, trudge up the corridor, and knock on his door. “Come in,” his deep voice calls.

I pause and close my eyes, push the door open.

And there he sits, in all his arrogant glory.

Grey suit, white shirt, dark hair, and a jaw that would cut glass. He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he swivels on his chair. “Hello Kate.”

I clench my jaw, wanting to correct him that it’s Kathryn. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

I shrug. “Fine. I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know what happened. And I just want you to know that I am mortified and horrified and I’m so sorry you had to look after me and I don’t . . .” I look around as I try to find the words. “I am so embarrassed.”

He smiles as his eyes hold mine. “Don’t be.”

I puff air into my cheeks—great, now he’s going to get all condescending.

“You scared me,” he says as he picks up his pen.

“I apologize.” I turn my head and stare out of the window, anything to avoid his gaze.

“Kate.”

I focus on the building across the street.

“Kate.”

I drag my eyes to his.

“Take the rest of the day off and go and see your doctor please.”

I open my mouth to say something.

“And don’t give me your smart mouth,” he interrupts as he stands. “This is non-negotiable, you scared the hell out of me. I thought you were dead.”

My eyes well with tears of shame.

“What’s wrong?” he says. His voice is different. Soft, cajoling.

“Don’t,” I spit.

“This was an accident. It could have happened to anyone, why are you so defensive?” he snaps.

“I’m not. You’re the defensive one.”

“I’m not defensive.”

“Yes. You are, since the second day I met you, you’ve had an issue with me,” I splutter.

He screws up his face in a question. “What?”

“Anyway, I didn’t come here to discuss this. I came to say thank you for last night.”

His eyes hold mine.

I twist my fingers in front of me. “So . . . thank you.” I shrug. “I really appreciate it and I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t found me.”

He sits back in his chair and picks up his pen again. “You’re welcome.” His eyes hold mine.

I shrug again; this is just awkward. I point to the door with my thumb. “I’m going to get going.”

“To the doctor.”

“Yes.”

I turn and head to the door.

“Kate,” he calls.

I turn back to him.

“What happened on the second day I met you?”

I stare at him.

“Forgive my rudeness, but I have no idea.”

I pause for a moment as I consider if I should elaborate. “I told you that you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Not in a sleazy way . . . In a . . .” I shrug. “Observation kind of way.” His brow furrows. “And you’ve despised me ever since.”

He purses his lips as if thinking. “I don’t remember you saying that to me.”

“I know.” I force a smile and turn back toward the door.

“Hey,” he calls.

I turn back toward him again.

He puts his hands into his pockets. “Vulnerable Kate is quite endearing.”

We stare at each other as the air crackles between us.

“Yeah, well . . . she’s still high,” I whisper.

He smiles softly.

Leave.

Leave now.

I turn and walk from his office as confusion surrounds me.

What was that?

Just like Elliot told me to, I took the day off and went to see the doctor about last night. Turns out it was just a bad reaction, so scratch that medication off my ever-to-do-again list.

It’s late at night and I’m tired and have mostly mooched around all day, although that could have a lot to do with my damaged pride.

I can’t believe he saw me like that; to have anyone see me like that is a nightmare, but to have him . . . it’s unfathomable.

My Messenger pings and I see the name and smile; we’ve been chatting together all week, me and Edgar Moffatt. I hit open.

Hi Pinkie.

I smile and reply:

Hi Ed.

His reply bounces back.

What you doing?

I type:

In bed, winding down for the day, you?

I hit send.

Same, I’m exhausted. I had the worst night last night.

I reply:

Oh no, what happened?

I can see the dots as he types, then it stops. Then I see the dots again as he types, and it stops again. This must be a long message. I wait for him to finish.

I found one of my co-workers unconscious on the floor of her office. I called emergency but thankfully she was okay and I ended up escorting her home.

I stayed with her until her friend arrived but I couldn’t sleep all night for worrying about her.

I sit up. What?

Couldn’t be . . .

I type:

What happened to her?

The dots bounce again and my heart sits in my throat as I wait.

She had a reaction to the painkillers for her period pain.

What the fuck?

My hands go over my mouth . . . it can’t be him. There is no way in hell that this could happen by coincidence.

Shit . . . my heart is hammering hard in my chest. What will I write?

I think for a moment and eventually I type:

I hope she’s okay. How horrible for you to experience that.

Oh my God, oh my God . . . Oh, my fucking God!

A reply bounces back.

Not horrible at all, maybe a blessing in disguise.

I leap out of bed and begin to pace as I shake my hands around, adrenaline surging through my bloodstream. “What the hell is going on here?” I whisper.

What do I write?

I type:

How could that be a blessing in disguise?

A reply bounces straight back.

I have a bit of a crush on her.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers, and with shaky hands I reply:

What’s her name?

The dots appear again.

Kate . . . Kate Landon.