The Xmas Conquest (The Wild West Billionaire Book 1)

“Oh, all right,” I said with exaggerated irritation. “Thank you…”

“Margery,” the girl said. “My name is Margery.” She cleared her throat, blushing hotly. “James, I’m so happy to have gotten the chance to work with you. It’s been such a fun year.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Margery flushed and squirmed under my intense gaze, and I realized with a touch of guilt that I liked watching the way she moved. She was cute, too – petite and blonde, with bright white teeth and curls to her shoulders.

“Yes,” Margery said primly. She licked her pink lips. “So, how is it?”

I made a show of taking a small bite of cake. “Incredible,” I said. I winked at her. “Did you bake this yourself and lie about it?”

Margery’s cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “No,” she said. “I just ordered it. I’m glad you like it.” She stepped closer and the warm, innocent smell of vanilla washed over me. “So, what are your plans?”

I shrugged. “I assume I’m flying home to Boston in a few weeks,” I said. “And then I’ll be going back to work there, maybe even working on expanding internationally.”

“Oh, that would be exciting,” Margery said. She bit her lip, looking sad. “And sir, if I’m not being too forward…may I just say that everyone here is going to miss you so much. You’ve been such an asset.”

I grinned. “I’m glad you think so,” I said.

“So, um, are you doing anything after this? My friend, you see, he just opened a Thai restaurant, and—”

“Sorry,” I said, flashing her a charming grin. “But I have dinner plans.”

Margery’s face fell. Before I could reassure her, I felt a huge hand clapping down on my shoulder.

“James, you bastard!” The familiar sound of Harry’s voice filled my ears and I turned around, grinning. My best friend was standing there, holding a plate loaded with cake. He looked the same as ever – devilish gleam in his eyes, and a knowing smirk as he watched the way Margery stared at me.

“Harry!”

We pulled each other into a bro-hug, clapping each other on the back. Harry thumped me so hard that I almost spat cake out over his designer suit. When we pulled away, I realized Margery was standing there, looking awkward.

“Where are my manners,” I said, snickering. “Margery, this is my best friend – Harry. He’s from the States.”

“I came to surprise him,” Harry said, smirking at Margery. “But I think I like you more.” He eyed me conspiratorially. “James definitely wouldn’t look good in that dress.”

Margery flushed hotly and I rolled my eyes. Harry had a practiced, easy way with women – the few that didn’t fall all over themselves at the first sight of him usually caved after just a few minutes. He’d slept with hundreds of girls over the years – and somehow, I guessed Margery was about to become the latest notch on his bedpost.

“Excuse us,” I said to Margery. She lingered for a second, looking hungrily at the both of us, but then obediently turned and walked away.

“Jesus, James, talk about wasting a fine piece of ass,” Harry said, staring at Margery’s butt as she walked away. “She was practically trying to climb you right here!”

I shrugged. “I’m not interested.” As I said it, I looked around the room. I’d gotten used to the London Magnate Group offices, but I didn’t feel any kind of real attachment there, like I did back in Boston. If anything, I felt like my presence was a detriment to people like Lewis – people who had a very clearly British way of doing things, and who were frequently annoyed by my boorish American behavior.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t slept with any of these girls,” Harry said. He was practically drooling as he gazed around the room, looking at the bevy of women. “Some of them are smoking hot.”

“I haven’t,” I said truthfully. “I’ve been busy working.”

“Let’s blow this joint,” Harry said. “I came over here to get drunk with my best pal and pick up girls with hot accents, not stand around in some boring office.”

As much as I disagreed with Harry, I wanted to leave. The pub by my flat was calling my name, and this forced social interaction with coworkers was more awkward than I could have imagined.

“One second,” I told Harry. Stepping into the middle of the room, I cleared my throat and held up a hand in the air. “Excuse me, everyone,” I called loudly. “Thank you very much for this. This has been a real surprise, and I know I’m going to miss working with you all when I return to Boston.”

The crowd of people began to look deeply uncomfortable – I wondered if anyone had ever been so candid in the office before.

“So, again, thank you,” I said. “And please, enjoy the party. I’ll be in the office for a few days next week to wrap up any final details, and then I’m sure you’ll all be relieved when this Yank is back in the States.”

An uncomfortable ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and I groaned inwardly. It was obvious that my presence was as much of a bother to them as it was to me.

“Come on,” I said to Harry. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Harry and I left the office. It was cold, dark, and snowing – much like Boston winters – and we stumbled through the blustery weather. I led Harry into the corner pub by my flat and we took a small table by the fireplace. The flames felt good on my chilled face, and I rubbed my hands together and raised them to the fire.

“Nice place,” Harry said. He smirked. “We sure as hell don’t have bars like this back in Beantown.”

“Damn shame,” I said.

“So, what’ve you possibly been doing with yourself, since you haven’t been fucking all those cute girls back at the office,” Harry asked. “I can’t believe you’ve been completely celibate.”

“Not exactly,” I said.

“Well, it’s a damn shame,” Harry said. He smirked at me. “You know, I have a couple of really hot girls who live here – one is a lingerie model, can you believe that? She’d go for you, too,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “She likes those dark, brooding types.”

I shrugged.

“What?” Harry’s jaw dropped. “You can’t tell me you’re not interested. She’s fuckin’ smoking hot, James!”

“I’m leaving London next week to go home,” I said. “So, I don’t really see the point of dating someone. It wouldn’t really be fair.”

“God, you’ve gotten…what do the Brits call it? Thick?” Harry shook his head in obvious disgust. “I’m not talking about dating anyone, numbnuts. I’m talking about pure, hot, unadulterated fucking.”

“I’m not interested,” I said. “I don’t need any drama right now, Harry. I’m dealing with a ton of shit at work, and—”

“Jesus,” Harry said. He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “You’ve gone and turned into an old man!”

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