Soft kisses tickle the back of my neck, and I hum, chuckling throatily when I feel familiar teeth nibbling on my ear. “You know if you keep that up, you’re going to gnaw them off.”

“Can’t have that. They’re too perfect,” Colton says, holding me loosely. I turn over and look up into his handsome face, the eyes that promise me so much and deliver so much more. He leans down and gives me another soft kiss before pulling back, grinning. “Okay, morning kiss delivered, but it is time for our friend, Aquafresh.”

I giggle and follow him into the bathroom, where we quickly wash up, Colton shaving while I scrub my face and give my mouth a rinse of Listerine. “So, what’s up first?”

“Brekkie,” Colton says through a foamy toothpaste smile.

I look at Tiffany’s list and pick a simple teal skirt and grey blouse outfit. It makes me feel a bit dressier, and with the previous glares at my tennis shoes, I figure I should aim for a bit nicer than casual work wear. I try to hurry but have to swat Colton’s hands away so I can pull my skirt on, only to have him push it up to cop another feel.

“We’ve got work to do, Mr. Wolfe. And an uphill battle at best. Come on.”

He gives in with a groan that has a bit of a whine in it, but we do make it downstairs. The hotel restaurant is a five-star, white-glove service deal, way fancier than my usual pre-work grab-and-go. The maître d’ seats us, placing a napkin in my lap, which feels absurdly intimate.

Colton waits until the suited man is barely two steps away before saying, “He won’t bite, Elle. I promise.”

I smirk a bit at my own reaction, but seriously, I’m not used to strangers getting that close to my business, especially with their noses turned up as though I smell even though I just showered. I bury my own nose in the leather-bound menu, attempting to hide my blush.

“I dare you . . . to let me order for you.”

That’s an easy dare to take, though I worry they’re going to bring me something weird. But I figure I can try a bite of just about anything. “Okay, as long as there’s coffee.”

Colton orders me a ‘fry up’ which doesn’t give me a lot of context clues, but when they serve me, it’s a plate piled with things that do not seem to go together at all.

“Okay, bacon and eggs I get, even sausage, but what’s with the rest of this?”

“Bangers and bacon, eggs and fried bread, beans and tomatoes. The perfect start to every day.”

Colton digs in, and I follow his example, though baked beans feel like bar-b-que food to me, not breakfast.

“It’s good,” I agree. Mostly about the bread, if I’m honest. I’m not a no-carb girl by any stretch, and this bread is delicious. I hold up a slice. “What makes this so good?”

“Butter, lots of it. And it’s real, fresh butter, not like you have at American grocery stores, but straight from the farm.”

I bite into another slice, preferring it to the beans. “As much as I could sit here and play tourist all day, I feel like we need to get a game plan laid out. What are you thinking?”

Colton sips at his tea, thinking. “Gary’s looking at the trust legalese, meeting with my own attorney here in London. Debra is looking at site renovations. I think we need to focus on corporate tax breaks and UK headquarter benefits, really sell the final result of this deal. I know there will be some hoops to jump through to get to that point, but it’s an angle we need to work so we can highlight it for the board.”

We discuss the various stages of the process, from initial contracts to full build out with daily operations. It’s . . . a lot, a huge undertaking, by any measure. But the bulk of that will be true regardless of the chosen location for the HQ2, so we try to flesh out the ways that London is the preferable choice.

The conversation goes on well past breakfast as we move back up to the suite, where we spread out, turning the dining table into a makeshift conference table. Colton and I each work on our laptops, and I point out the corporate law he requested that I pull.

“This is going to be an issue. We’ll have to get some approvals pre-built to ensure we maximize the tax break. Otherwise, our first-year costs are going to be exorbitant. But if we can get the council to pass an exception, especially since it’s a previously zoned commercial site, we should be fine.”

Colton leans over me, one hand on the table and one on the back of my chair. The cage of his arms feels good, but his praise feels even better.

I like that he can see me as a sloppy, sweaty post-sex mess and then turn right around and appreciate my brain. “Good catch, Elle. I think that’s doable. Bringing a company like Fox across the pond would be a boon—for tax base, employment, and shipping. Can you follow up on positive impacts an HQ2 would have? It’d be something we can present to the council as well as Fox.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Wolfe.” I’m just as turned on by his all-business persona as I am his Mr. Sexy Times Guy. He winks at me, hearing the tease in my almost professional, but not quite, tone.

“Get to it, Miss Stryker.”

That smirk on his full lips is damn near my undoing, but I rally and focus on work.

Colton’s phone rings, breaking our heads-down work session, and I realize that several hours have passed. He glances at the screen and his jaw goes tight. “It’s Mum. I have to take this.”

He paces around as he talks, and though he’s basically in the same room with me, I try to give him some modicum of privacy. I can hear snippets of his side of the conversation, though.

“Yes, Mum. I understand, but he’s . . .” Colton cuts off, and apparently, Mary has no problem interrupting her son. She should’ve interrupted Edwin and Eddie yesterday, I think snidely.

“That would be lovely. I’m sure she would enjoy it.”

My ears perk up at that, especially when Colton pivots to look at me apologetically. Shit, I’m going down. I can feel it.

“Yes, she’ll be there shortly.”

He hangs up and sighs, looking at the ceiling as he runs his fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands.

“How bad is it? Just give it to me straight. They hate me, right? They’ve called you home to forbid you from seeing the American trollop? Oh, shit, did they realize I took the silver teaspoon from my place setting? I swear, I’ll give it back if they won’t press charges.”

My lip trembles and Colton’s eyes go wide. “You stole a teaspoon?”

I straighten my back and frown in disappointment. “Of course I didn’t steal a teaspoon. I’m crazy, not stupid. Or a klepto. But now you’re not so freaked about your mom. What’d she say?”

I’d hope the irreverence would help him chill, but Colton’s grin has zero happiness in it. No, it’s a cold, professional teeth baring that makes him look like someone said, ‘Say cheese or the kid gets it.’

“She’s invited you for tea, but I’m not certain you should go.”

I blink. “Okay, tea doesn’t sound bad. Other than the tea itself, which is gross. But I can sit with her for a bit like yesterday. Maybe Nan and Lizzie can come too?”

He licks his lips, and I can feel the hesitancy. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

“She invited you to tea with her friends. She likely wants to show you off as my American sweetie. This is a divide and conquer mission, probably at Father’s instruction, and they intend to conquer . . . us.”