Page 4 of Misguided Vows

“Stop watching her.” My sister throws her arms in the air and storms off. I stare until the designer makes it all the way out the front door, her ass swaying in that tight dress, which is punishable in its own right.

When my sister told me she was hiring a professional to design the bar’s interior, I didn’t think much of it. But the money was well spent. Alina did a fantastic job, and she’s easy on the eyes.

Alina is clearly not from around here; her accent is very American. And while I just left the US after completing a job, I didn’t think the next woman I would be eyeing would be from there.

Had she not so obviously despised me, I might’ve even tried to fuck her tonight. I hide the smirk on my face, so very temptedto seek out the designer and do so. But I follow my sister to the bar instead. The bartender is already serving her, and I tap the top of my glass to indicate the same for myself.

“So, how close are you two?”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Will, you are not fucking another one of my friends.”

“You two are friends?” My eyebrows perk.

“I’m not telling you anymore about her,” she says adamantly, and I smirk.

“Maria, you know I can find out anything I want about her with my own resources. I just want to make sure my baby sister isn’t hanging out with anyone shady.” I nudge her shoulder, and she rolls her eyes.

She might tell people that our parents never beat the smartass from me, but they’d never smacked the sass out of her either.

“The only shady person here is you,” she deadpans.

“Touché.”

Although my sister suspects I might be involved in some not-so-above-board business arrangements, she never pushes me about it. As far as the family is concerned, I’m a businessman. Granted, I might be one of the best trackers in the world and get my hands dirty from time to time, but they don’t need the small details of such affairs.

The bartender slides over both of our drinks, and Maria and I admire the crowd together. “Did I tell you how proud of you I am?” I ask, saluting her with my glass. She smiles appreciatively, looking around, and clinks her glass against mine.

“Thank you for believing in me,” she says.

Maria was too scared to ask our parents for a loan, and, apparently, I was the easier option or biggest sucker. I don’t mind which one it was. I support my sister by spoiling her to make up for my not being here in London often enough.

“How long will you be in town for?” she asks.

I think on it a moment. I returned to London for a job, and it usually doesn’t take me too long to find my target. In the meantime, I can have some fun.

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe a few weeks. What about your friend, is she living here?”

Maria rolls her eyes and steps away from the bar.

“Come on, help your big brother out,” I call out after her, but she just flips me the bird.

Damn, it’s good to be home.

CHAPTER 3

Alina

It’s been over a month since I’ve seen Maria. After the grand opening of her club, I moved on to a new project for a café in Manchester. I’ve been back in London for two days now and spoiled myself with some well-deserved retail therapy after doing two big back-to-back projects.

Maria’s been busy with the club, but we’ve prioritized meeting up for dinner tonight before I fly out to New York early tomorrow to consult with a new client. When she warned me that her brother would be joining us, I reconsidered our dinner plans until she reluctantly admitted it was because of her brother’s connections that I got my next consultation in New York.

A lingerie company was after a new show floor design, and apparently, her asshole of a brother knows people and suggested my services with raving reviews after I helped his baby sister. As ecstatic as I am by the opportunity to possibly have this contract, it’s also difficult for me to swallow my pride and thank him directly.

I hold a bottle of whiskey in my hand as I walk into the restaurant, reminding myself to play nice. It’s been a month since I met him; perhaps it was a one-off bad impression?

I can see them sitting at a table near the back. The hostess takes me to them, and when they notice me, Will stands to pull out my chair. I offer a tight smile and hand him the bottle, which he seems confused by.

“Whatever is this for, milady?” he asks. And when his striking blue eyes meet mine, I’m already annoyed. No man can be that good looking, have mischief dance in their eyes like stars, and also use a nickname on me that seriously pisses me the fuck off. It’s a turbulent set of feelings he stirs within me that I’d rather not experience.

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