Nick was playing ping pong with his cousin Marley when the doorbell rang. He ignored it. Nick didn't answer his own door. He didn't pour his own milk. Hell, the only thing he really did for himself was wipe his own arse.

He probably could find someone to do that for him too. If he wanted to. He seriously considered it for a moment before mentally walking through the process.

Nah.

God, he was bored.

The doorbell rang again.

"Jesus Christ! Somebody bloody get the Goddamned door!"

He threw his ping pong racket at the floor, hitting his foot.

"Ow! Christ! Where's the damn champagne gone to?"

Marley pointed to a table on the far side of the room. Nick walked over to it and swigged directly from the bottle. Then he spat it out, spraying the glass windows that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.

"What is this piss water?"

"Uh, looks like Dom Perignon, Nick."

"I can bloody well read you twat. It tastes disgusting. It's not even cold. And where are the bloody bubbles?”

He poured the rest of the bottle into a houseplant, an enormous palm that reached nearly to the ceiling.

"There you go. Now I can fire the gardener. Look! I'm doing your job for you you cod wallops!"

Marley was laughing at him. Marley always laughed when Nick got pissy. That's part of the reason Nick kept the prat around. Other than the whole blood relations business.

One of the maids came in. He could never remember their real names but internally he called them Rolly Polly, Beanpole, and Mustache. This was the rolly one.

He smiled at her charmingly. He was never rude to his staff. Everyone else, yes. But he actually respected women who supported their families through hard work and sweat.

Just like his dear old mum.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Ms. Newton is here to see you Mr. Falcon."

"Who?"

Marley cleared his throat.

"It's the new A&R girl from the label mate."

Thank god Marley was actually good at something. He kept track of all this shite for Nick. Somebody had to.

In return Nick paid him an absurd amount of money and took him everywhere with him. Sometimes, he even got him laid. There were always plenty of women to go around.

"Ohhh right. Well, show her into the solarium please."

He waved his arm magnanimously, deciding to be a good host to the pencil pusher. He despised pencil pushers. Especially those who tried to interfere with his music.

"We're already in the solarium."

"Right. Show her into the living room. And offer her something to drink if you don't mind. Oh and chilled champagne for me.”

The cherubic looking little maid bobbed her head and left the room.

"She's a good girl, that one."

"She's new actually, Nick."

"What? Don't tell me there are two Rolly Pollys now!"

Marley was laughing too hard to answer him. Nick leveled a finger at his chest.

"You're not drunk enough. Alright, come on and let's get this bloody over with. How the hell do I get to the living room from here?"

Marley led the way through the sprawling ultra modern cliffside mansion. Nick had got it last year but this was only the second time he'd been here. After his last tour he'd spent a few months in the French Riviera and then stopped home to see his mum. Then he'd gone somewhere else… oh right, Dubai.

That place was so sterilized it had made his brain hurt to look around. Like Vegas without strippers or gambling.

Or booze.

Where was the fun in that?

They walked into an enormous room with floor to ceiling glass doors that opened onto a deck. All you could see was sea and sky. It was pretty nice actually, now that Nick looked around.

"Not bad."

Marley grinned at him.

"Now, where is the bossy twat?"

A small feminine gasp greeted him from behind the floating natural gas fireplace in the middle of the room.

Damn, the bird must have heard him.

He'd have to turn on the charm then, wouldn't he? Maybe then she'd stop sending all the demanding emails, never mind the daily phone calls.

His old label rep had left him alone more or less. As long as the money kept rolling in, what did they care? Still, he'd better put on a happy face for the harpy.

Time to act like a rock star for his adoring public. No woman stood a chance against ‘The Nick Falcon’ when he was in full effect. He'd tried to find one that did once on a whim. His quest for rejection had failed.

Old, young, fit, ugly, even married women. They all seemed to fall at his feet. He never took the married ones up on it though.

That was a bridge too far, even for him.

And he was expected to service them all with his rock star prowess. He had to act like a manwhore. Otherwise, his reputation would start to slide. And with that, record sales.

It was a bit of a nuisance sometimes if he was honest with himself, which he rarely was.

He strode around the fireplace, oozing his public persona. His back was straight but his limbs were fluid. He knew how to work it. He'd better have after all these years.

He pictured a hatchet faced middle-aged woman with a clipboard. Someone officious and pasty faced. He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

He turned the corner and froze. A girl was sitting on the enormous sectional, looking very nervous and very young. Pretty though. Cute as a button.

Scratch that.

She was bloody beautiful. Her long golden hair and high tits were his second impression. After that he saw her long toned legs. But first he saw her face.

Jesus.

This was his new A&R Rep? She looked straight out of school, not ready to handle an A-List star like him.

But what a school it was.

Her dark blue eyes widened as she saw him staring at her. She lifted her chin boldly and stood, her shoulders thrown back. The nervousness was gone.

Suddenly, she looked like a CEO.

Or a general preparing for war.

A very, very alluring general. In fact, he realized with a start, he’d never seen anything so lovely in his life.

But not a pushover apparently. He realized he'd already been contemplating getting her into bed. Today. Now. This instant.

No need for the damn meeting. Just shagging, all day and all night. His cock was already hard, which was impressive considering how drunk he was.

Christ, he felt like a teenager.

But for the first time in years, he wasn't bored.

Not at all.

"Marley would you bring us some champagne out here. Two glasses."

His cousin raised an eyebrow at him but he barely noticed. He was too busy mentally undressing the Goddess he saw before him. Now that she was standing, he could really see her body.

Sweet Mary and Joseph.

Nick had his share of beautiful women of course. Even professionally beautiful ones. Models, actresses, you know it. But this girl was something else. She was tiny for one thing. Short and sweet, just the perfect little package. And there was something regal in her bearing that reminded him of some of the Lords and Ladies he'd met when he'd been knighted.

He felt a little less cocky at the thought. Out classed, just like the nobility back home in England made him feel. He always brazened that out, drinking himself silly at the fancy events he was often invited to.

This girl made me him feel like that. Gave him a case of the jelly legs. But he pushed that aside. What did he have to be nervous about? He was a rock star and a knight of the bloody realm!

But he was suddenly nervous, all the same.

She stepped forward, extending her hand. No wedding ring. Good.

He'd hate to break up someone's marriage. It wouldn't stop him for going after what he wanted but he'd feel at least a small twinge of guilt about it. Or not.

His hand closed over her small soft hand and he smiled, oozing charm. She shook his hand firmly and pulled it back just as he was lifting it to his lips. Denied.

"Mr. Falcon. I'm Sabrina Newton. I'm your new rep."

"Yes, that's right. Marley told me about you. What happened to Wendell?"

"He died."

"Oh God. That's bloody awful. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You sent an arrangement. To the funeral."

"I did?"

"Yes. It was lovely. His wife was thrilled."

"Oh, good. That was bloody thoughtful of me."

He grinned at her cheekily but she just stared back, cool as a cucumber. He sighed and gestured to the low slung chairs near the open sliding glass doors. Maybe the ocean breeze would blow her skirt up a bit. He'd like that.

He'd like it a lot.

"Shall we?"

She nodded.

He settled into a chair facing her and threw his arms back. He was going to enjoy working with this Sabrina girl. He could tell already. He watched her sit and let his eyes wander all over her body.

Christ, look at those tits!

She cleared her throat and he lifted his eyes to her face with a sheepish smile. She was not amused. That was odd. Women usually swooned after being visually ogled by him.

Well, they didn't always lose consciousness, but they were usually bloody thrilled at the attention!

This girl was different sort of bird altogether.

He smiled to himself, contemplating the young beauty before him.

He was definitely having poultry for dinner tonight.