Page 95 of Fighting Mr. Knight

Outside, Canary Wharf hums with bankers, oil traders and tech people letting loose after a seventy-hour workweek. London’s version of the city that never sleeps.

In silence, Jack leads me to a black Aston Martin. The driver greets us and opens the back door for me.

“Tommy will message me when you’re home.”

Are you going to fuck Redhead in the hotel again?

“You’ll thank me in the morning when you wake up to run ten miles.”

“You don’t need to be concerned about me,” I say, sulking. “You’re right, this . . . us . . . was a ridiculous idea. Forget this morning. Forget tonight.” I play the drunk card. “It was the Old Fashioneds talking. I just wanted to find out what all the hype was about.” I flash him a plastic smile.

“What do you mean?” he asks, frowning.

“One night with playboy Jack Knight. Now I’ve realised what a terrible idea that is. It would complicate things. Forget I ever said anything.”

He looks at me steadily for a moment before nodding his head towards the back seat. “Get in, Bonnie. It’s late.”

“I’m never putting myself out there ever again,” I mutter to myself more than him.

“Putting yourself out there?” Hip lips curl in displeasure. “This isn’t putting yourself out there.”

I take one last fleeting look at him, swallow my pride and get in the car.

23

Jack

The ball flies past the fifth hole, bounces and disappears into the trees. It’s Sunday afternoon golf with my two best mates, and besides their relentless piss-taking, it’s my favourite part of the week.

As of late, I’ve been slack in attending, instead spending Sundays on construction sites.

Tristan lets out a low whistle. “In ten years of us playing golf, that’s the worst yet. I hope you’re suitably mortified.”

“You’re losing your touch, Knight.” Danny laughs.

“It’s my big blue balls,” I grumble as Danny lines up to take his shot. “They’re getting in the way of everything.”

The ball lands just shy of the hole. He turns to me in satisfaction. “Looks like my balls are just fine.”

“I must shake Bonnie’s hand when I next see her.” Tristan watches me with amusement. “Finally, a woman who doesn’t want to jump in bed after Knight winks.”

“She does want to sleep with me,” I mutter dryly. “She practically begged me to on Friday night.”

Tristan looks at me in confusion as he lines his feet up into position. “Then why do you have blue balls?” His club connects with the ball and our eyes follow the ball down the course where it lands just shy of the hole. Too bloody close.

I glare at them. “I’m trying to court the woman, and she’s treating me like a sex toy—that’s bloody well why. She’s after a one-night stand.”

They both laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I snap. “I’m being the perfect gentleman. Well, except for the lapse in judgement in my office, but that was her fault for poking her nipples at me.” I sigh. “I can’t win.”

Danny chuckles. “Your reputation really does precede you.”

“So, what does she want from me? How do I woo the damn woman?”

Tristan eyes me seriously. “She probably doesn’t trust you. With everything she hears about you, she’s got no reason to.”

“And the lass got ditched by her fiancé,” Danny adds. “She’s been through a rough ride. Anyone would have trust issues after that.”

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