Page 31 of The Reluctant Billionaire (Love in London #5)

Lotta

I could get used to waking in Aide’s arms.

To his kisses on my neck. His hard—and I do mean hard —body pressed up behind me.

To him bringing me a perfect espresso as I blow-dry my hair and apply some light makeup in a dressing room so vast it’s totally wasted on him.

To being tugged into his huge shower for a highly satisfying quickie before being served up more perfect espresso and scrambled eggs on the terrace by his very sweet, very smiley housekeeper, Maggie. She seems even happier than me that I spent the night, and that’s saying something.

I adore my ultra-feminine flat, and I love Notting Hill, but there’s something about waking up out here that’s pretty special.

I know in an hour we’ll be surrounded by chain-link fences and overlooked by rundown blocks of council flats, but right in this moment I could easily imagine I’m on holiday.

The only sounds are birdsong and the chinking of cutlery against crockery.

Given we’re just a couple of weeks past midsummer, the sun’s already high in the sky, casting short shadows over the gardens.

All those gorgeous flowerbeds are throwing off their scent, aided by some early-morning sprinklers.

Peace.

Peace is what I feel here. Splendid isolation, like Aide and I are the only two people in the world. Like the trials and tribulations of the rest of humanity are faint. Muted.

I wonder if that’s why Aide based himself out here.

It’s clear he’s a guy who, despite his grumpy facade, feels things deeply.

Maybe he needs somewhere like this to create some proper distance between him and all the shit he has to deal with.

The pressures and the conflicts, the critics and the freeloaders.

I’m really, really glad he has this place. All the stuff he was saying last night suggested he hasn’t really left the chains of his poverty-stricken upbringing behind. That his ‘emancipation’ is, in reality, far more complex and less complete than it may seem.

I’m glad he’s harnessed enough self-love and self-belief to create a little slice of heaven here, just for himself.

My heart sinks as we walk to his car. Andy’s already stowed my overnight bag in the boot. As a delightfully dirty mini-break, it’s been way too short. I refuse to consider whether I’ll ever be back here.

‘Last day,’ Aide says, reaching for my hand on the cream leather of his back seat and clasping it with an easy familiarity.

‘Are you sad?’ I ask.

He leans his head back against the seat and stares at the ceiling of the car. ‘Yeah. I’ll miss everyone. It’s been good working side-by-side with my old mates, you know?’

‘Hmm,’ I say, and he drops his head to the side to look at me.

‘What?’

I hesitate. ‘Nothing. I mean—I’m sure you’ll miss them.

It makes sense. I just—I wonder if it’s also a bit bittersweet because you won’t be around to help them any more.

’ I turn my hand palm up and intertwine my fingers with his.

‘I’ve seen what an amazing job you’ve done here, and I’m sure it’s hard for you to walk away. ’

When there’s so much work still to be done in this community.

I don’t say the words, but I can feel them hanging in the air between us.

Aide’s so loyal, so committed, and I know he feels he owes Judy and the community centre the world.

I’ve seen how stuck in he gets. I think he even prefers playing footie with the kids and doling out meals to getting his hands dirty with the building work.

For someone like that, being perceived to be ‘walking away’ must be a real wrench.

‘Yeah,’ he says quietly, letting his head fall back on the headrest once again. ‘Tomorrow I’ll be sitting in my cushty office, eating fucking sushi, or something, and these guys will be slogging it out again. And again. Every fucking day. It’s never-ending, the work they have to do.’

‘I know,’ I tell him. I try to seize on the silver lining. ‘At least they’ll have a nice new centre to do it in. Sylvie seems really thrilled with the new kitchen. Everything doesn’t have to be perfect all the time. It being better is a start.’

He squeezes my hand hard. ‘Thanks.’

‘What’s your charity about?’ I ask. ‘Is it linked to the centre?’ I’ve heard him mention his charity, Fresh Start, a few times, and it came up during my online stalking, but I don’t know much about it.

Given how heavy the traffic looks as we head into London, now seems like a good time to get to know more about it.

He screws up his nose. ‘Kind of. So Totum has a foundation, and one thing it does is support community centres across the UK. Some of the money for the refurb has come from that, and some of it from me. But Fresh Start’s different.

It runs before- and-after-school enrichment clubs in London, and hopefully, at some point, we’ll expand it across the country. ’

‘What kind of enrichment clubs?’ I ask. ‘Like, coding and stuff?’

‘Among other things.’ He shifts in his seat, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

‘Most state primary schools run a pretty limited syllabus. I mean, they cover the basics, but there are very few specialist teachers outside of PE. The kids don’t get a chance to explore many subjects until they hit secondary school, so we’re trying to change that.

It’s also a good form of childcare for the parents. ’

‘Go on,’ I say.

‘So we’ll go into a school. Take over the school hall, or any decent-sized space, and we’ll run two or three clubs a day, so ten to fifteen a week.

Everything from dance to coding to sculpture to parkour.

It’s just about trying to enrich these kids’ experience, open their eyes to talents and interests they wouldn’t get to explore otherwise.

A lot of schools don’t have the capacity to set this stuff up themselves, and even if they could, the parents can’t afford to pay for clubs.

So we make the classes free, and the kids who qualify for free school lunches get priority. ’

‘Free school lunches…’ I frown, trying to get it straight in my head.

Aide grins at me. I’m sure he’s thinking I’m a rich, clueless princess, but he doesn’t say it.

‘Some families get free school lunches because they’ve been means-tested and shown not to be able to afford them.

So we know they’re the families in each school who are struggling the most financially.

Chances are, their kids aren’t going to be doing piano and tap-dancing after school. ’

I nod. ‘Thank you,’ I say quietly. ‘It’s a really cool idea.

’ I mean it. It is. I can’t imagine how much work it is going into God knows how many schools.

Managing the logistics and red tape. Dealing with the admin side of schools who are totally overwhelmed already.

It makes me tired just thinking about it.

Does Aide ever get tired?

Not of this stuff, I decide. This guy has a fire so powerful lit under his arse it’s like jet fuel. He’s on a mission to save every kid in Britain from his own fate, it seems.

The thought makes my heart hurt.

No wonder he has an OBE.

I reach over and cup his face with my free hand. ‘You are a very, very good guy, Aidan Duffy,’ I tell him, looking deeply into those blue eyes that once seemed icy cold and are now anything but.

He wriggles his shoulders like the compliment makes him uncomfortable. ‘I’m really not. I got a lucky break—I want to give back and make sure more children get the chances I got.’

I raise my eyebrows sceptically. ‘You did not get a lucky break. You made your own luck, from everything I’ve heard. You’ve worked your arse off to be here, but I’m glad you’ve found something you find rewarding.’

He gives me a tight smile. ‘It’s by far the best thing about having money. Getting to put it to work. The plan is to give it all away before I pop my clogs. Don’t think I’ll rest till I do.’

This man. Be still my beating heart.

‘What about you?’ He strokes his thumb over my skin and looks down at our conjoined hands. ‘You must be dying to get back to normality.’

Ugh. The mere reminder that I won’t be spending my days with Aide makes my scrambled eggs curdle in my stomach. We were born out of a totally unexpected, and initially unwanted, proximity, but the heat between us is undeniable.

Not just the heat. Last night felt like a step forward for us in terms of getting to know each other better. Getting to understand each other. But I have no fucking clue what happens from here.

And I’m no longer so convinced that my normality is quite so normal.

I hold his gaze as the car progresses down the narrow lanes. ‘I’ll miss the view,’ I say lightly. I let my eyes drop to his insane pecs below their—currently pristine—white vest and back up.

‘I’ll miss the view, too,’ he says, his eyes dropping to my boobs in their tight, cropped t-shirt before he leans in to kiss me lightly on the lips.

Good , I think.

‘Do none of your co-workers get their boobs out for you in your day job?’

He drops me a panty-melting grin. ‘Thankfully, no. There’s only one pair I want to see, anyway.’

I give my shoulders a happy little shimmy.

‘I cannot believe I told you to put them away that first day,’ he says, dragging his free hand over his face. ‘You were right. That would have been a lawsuit waiting to happen.’

I grimace. ‘I really hope you don’t say things like that to your employees. Nobody likes a sex-pest boss.’

‘No fucking way,’ he says. ‘Seriously. Not in a million years would I ever. I think I must have gone temporarily insane—it’s the only explanation.’

‘I’m glad they’re capable of driving good men to the brink of sanity,’ I say. ‘Always useful to be aware of one’s powers.’

His grin drops away, and he chews on his lower lip before replying.

‘I want to keep on seeing you.’ His voice drops to a whisper, and he leans in to my ear.

‘In case my complete inability to keep my cock out of your body hasn’t made it clear, it’s insane between us.

I want to get to know you a lot better.’

I swivel my head so my lips are level with his. His beard brushes my chin. There’s no way I can be this close to him and not kiss him. Not feel his mouth on mine.

‘Glad to hear it,’ I tell him, and I take his full lower lip between my teeth.