Read Online The Trouble With Coco Monroe by C. C. MacKenzie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. C. MacKenzie
Tags: Romance
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moment two women were driving him fucking crazy.
He picked up the glossy magazine.
‘The Top Ten Most Gorgelicious Bachelors and How To Catch Them.’
Hadn’t he warned the journalist not to include him in her article?
Hadn’t he said no?
And what the hell was gorgelicious? It wasn’t even a word for chrissake.
And where the hell had they found that God-awful photo?
It had been taken a year ago when he’d escorted a friend to a charity event. In it he was wearing an Ozwald Boetang tuxedo, which looked cool. But what really bugged him was the smirk on his face as he stared down at a blonde with gravity defying breasts.
His temper was at a nice steady simmer as he glowered, skimming through the piece again.
Apparently he was number three.
Hottie Number Three: My name is Lord Rafael Cavendish. Peer of the realm and all round action hero.
Bullcrap.
Height: 6’4”
Frame: Lean and lanky with well-defined muscles, not overdeveloped.
Eh?
Weight: 200lbs.
Bullshit. He was one ninety and worked out every day.
Eye colour: Melted dark toffee.
Pass the sick bag.
Hair: Black, straight and brushed back from a smooth unlined forehead. I have slashing cheekbones and the face of a warrior. Woo Hoo!
Jesus H. Christ.
Financial status: Wealthy but not loaded. Needs to work for a living.
And fucking proud of it, sister.
Career: Ex-Army Captain. Currently employed by Monroe Industries as Head of Global Operations and Security – salary in six figures.
Past significant others: Too numerous to mention, but has recently been seen around town squiring an Orthopaedic surgeon. Likes cerebral types and women who wear grey. Bimbos need not apply.
His short relationship with Liz had ended months ago.
I’m TDH. Yes, indeed I am. And women love me. Which is unfortunate for them because I will NEVER love them back. Women who are too beautiful make me suspicious - they always have a fatal flaw - it’s just a case of finding it. To win my heart you’ll need to be ruthless and able to cope with my colossal ego.
Whisky? Tango? Foxtrot?
Good luck girls, you’ll need it!
‘What the hell is TDH?’ Rafe demanded to know.
Eyes glittering with suppressed laughter, his PA handed him a coffee.
‘Tall, dark and handsome.’
‘I’m gonna sue,’ he said feeling very hard done by.
‘It’s a five-day wonder,’ a deep voice rumbled from the open door.
Rafe sent Ethan Monroe a bland look.
‘Easy for you to say. Why are you not in here? You’re richer and prettier than me.’
Ethan accepted a cup of coffee, flashed a white smile of thanks to Rafe’s PA and made himself comfortable in a well-upholstered leather chair the colour of a battleship.
‘I was out of the country when the call came through. She couldn’t get her claws into me.’
Rafe swore loud and long. ‘She’s a pain in the ass.’
‘That’s what you get for not being polite.’
‘Women!’ Rafe said in a tone of utter loathing, which brought his mind back to the other woman in his life that was giving him a very hard time.
He took a breath and eyed Ethan.
‘She’s not returning my calls.’
Ethan shrugged knowing exactly who he was referring to.
‘You and my father need to step back and give her space.’
Rafe knocked back half the coffee and felt the heat hit his gut.
‘Look what happened the last time we gave her space. It nearly killed her.’
‘You can hardly blame Coco for that.’
If Rafe was feeling fair he’d agree with the statement but since he wasn’t he didn’t.
‘No. But I can blame her for not listening to the rules.’
Ethan shook his head. ‘I’ve been forgiven so she’s speaking to me. Busy with the new house. If you just let her be she’ll come to you. My sister never holds a grudge.’
Rafe didn’t want to tell him she’d held a grudge against him for years. Or that at Rosie’s wedding he’d made things a hell of a lot worse between them.
He checked his watch and his cell.
‘She’s late.’
He picked up the glossy magazine.
‘The Top Ten Most Gorgelicious Bachelors and How To Catch Them.’
Hadn’t he warned the journalist not to include him in her article?
Hadn’t he said no?
And what the hell was gorgelicious? It wasn’t even a word for chrissake.
And where the hell had they found that God-awful photo?
It had been taken a year ago when he’d escorted a friend to a charity event. In it he was wearing an Ozwald Boetang tuxedo, which looked cool. But what really bugged him was the smirk on his face as he stared down at a blonde with gravity defying breasts.
His temper was at a nice steady simmer as he glowered, skimming through the piece again.
Apparently he was number three.
Hottie Number Three: My name is Lord Rafael Cavendish. Peer of the realm and all round action hero.
Bullcrap.
Height: 6’4”
Frame: Lean and lanky with well-defined muscles, not overdeveloped.
Eh?
Weight: 200lbs.
Bullshit. He was one ninety and worked out every day.
Eye colour: Melted dark toffee.
Pass the sick bag.
Hair: Black, straight and brushed back from a smooth unlined forehead. I have slashing cheekbones and the face of a warrior. Woo Hoo!
Jesus H. Christ.
Financial status: Wealthy but not loaded. Needs to work for a living.
And fucking proud of it, sister.
Career: Ex-Army Captain. Currently employed by Monroe Industries as Head of Global Operations and Security – salary in six figures.
Past significant others: Too numerous to mention, but has recently been seen around town squiring an Orthopaedic surgeon. Likes cerebral types and women who wear grey. Bimbos need not apply.
His short relationship with Liz had ended months ago.
I’m TDH. Yes, indeed I am. And women love me. Which is unfortunate for them because I will NEVER love them back. Women who are too beautiful make me suspicious - they always have a fatal flaw - it’s just a case of finding it. To win my heart you’ll need to be ruthless and able to cope with my colossal ego.
Whisky? Tango? Foxtrot?
Good luck girls, you’ll need it!
‘What the hell is TDH?’ Rafe demanded to know.
Eyes glittering with suppressed laughter, his PA handed him a coffee.
‘Tall, dark and handsome.’
‘I’m gonna sue,’ he said feeling very hard done by.
‘It’s a five-day wonder,’ a deep voice rumbled from the open door.
Rafe sent Ethan Monroe a bland look.
‘Easy for you to say. Why are you not in here? You’re richer and prettier than me.’
Ethan accepted a cup of coffee, flashed a white smile of thanks to Rafe’s PA and made himself comfortable in a well-upholstered leather chair the colour of a battleship.
‘I was out of the country when the call came through. She couldn’t get her claws into me.’
Rafe swore loud and long. ‘She’s a pain in the ass.’
‘That’s what you get for not being polite.’
‘Women!’ Rafe said in a tone of utter loathing, which brought his mind back to the other woman in his life that was giving him a very hard time.
He took a breath and eyed Ethan.
‘She’s not returning my calls.’
Ethan shrugged knowing exactly who he was referring to.
‘You and my father need to step back and give her space.’
Rafe knocked back half the coffee and felt the heat hit his gut.
‘Look what happened the last time we gave her space. It nearly killed her.’
‘You can hardly blame Coco for that.’
If Rafe was feeling fair he’d agree with the statement but since he wasn’t he didn’t.
‘No. But I can blame her for not listening to the rules.’
Ethan shook his head. ‘I’ve been forgiven so she’s speaking to me. Busy with the new house. If you just let her be she’ll come to you. My sister never holds a grudge.’
Rafe didn’t want to tell him she’d held a grudge against him for years. Or that at Rosie’s wedding he’d made things a hell of a lot worse between them.
He checked his watch and his cell.
‘She’s late.’
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