The Mount Street Social had been open just a few months, owned and managed by Simone Wood, a Michelin starred chef who had been a client of Vanessa’s marketing company. Simone had recently added a conservatory for drinks and bar snacks only, and by bar snacks, I meant posh ones that Seph couldn’t pronounce.

I’d become friends with Simone through Vanessa and I was fairly confident when I sent her a text that she’d find a quiet table for us in the conservatory, so I could get the bottom of Victoria’s issue with her half-brother over her inheritance. So far, what I had gathered between interruptions at Niall’s house, was that she was being stalled and overcharged by her own solicitor, so I’d stopped drinking, made our excuses and taken a cab to Simone’s.

“So your grandad’s house has been sold. The funds from that are being held by your solicitor while your brother contests the will, along with his savings. Some money has been released to your half-brother but not to you as your half-brother is already claiming you’ve had your share?” I said, confirming everything with baby steps as she’d gulped a couple of glasses of wine as she was telling me the story.

“Which I know can’t be right. My grandfather paid my university fees throughout and was going to pay off the tuition and living expenses for my PhD. I put that on hold to care for him three and a bit years ago and looked after him until he died. Francis immediately contested the will, saying that there was another, held by his solicitor and that’s where I’ve been stuck since,” she said, fingers toying with the coffee cup.

It was a fucking good job I was focusing on what she was telling me as it was stopping me toying with her fingers myself. Since I’d seen her when I’d first walked into Niall’s, I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her.

Even in heels she was petite, almost a foot shorted than I was, and she was slender with a curvy ass and tits I struggled not to stare at, although she had caught me a few times. Her lips were full, pinked up by lipstick, and her eyes told me everything she was thinking. She gave off both strength and vulnerability and I was finding the combination intoxicating, along with how quickly her brain worked. She had kept up with me whether it had been via email or this evening, completely nonplussed by the letters after my name, my family or my wealth, and I liked that. More than I knew what to do with.

“Okay,” I said. “None of that sounds remotely like what should be happening. What’s the name of the firm you’re using and your brother’s?”

She gave me the names. “The solicitor my brother’s using is his brother-in-law.”

I typed the names into my phone and checked their websites, frowning. Something wasn’t sitting right. “Okay, Miss Feisty, I’m going to call Jackson. He’s going to take your case on.”

“No!” she said, almost knocking over her coffee. “I can’t afford the fees I’ve run up to pay my solicitor and he won’t let me transfer the case to someone else without…”

“This is what I do for a living and I do it very well, so shut up and trust me.” My brother answered the phone fairly quickly, the background noise sounding similar to where we were. I was thankful I hadn’t interrupted him and Vanessa. Their penchant for having sex at every given opportunity was becoming notorious, to the extent where Seph had refused to phone Jackson outside of office hours. “Jackson, you good?” Victoria glared at me and I debated ordering a bottle of wine to see if it would make her compliant to me taking on her case.

“Fucking amazing. Why are you phoning me at this time on a Friday? Shouldn’t you be in bed with one of your university groupies?”

I thanked whichever deity was on duty that Victoria couldn’t hear him.

“Fuck you. I’m at Simone’s with Victoria. Can you come over? There’s an inheritance case she’s involved with and I want your opinion. It’s urgent.” It wasn’t urgent. Nothing could be done until Monday at the soonest, but she was urgent. There was something about her that made me want to prove myself in a way I hadn’t needed to since I was the best student in my class just to show my father.

Jackson laughed. “I’m coming over. We’re round the corner at Cicero’s. Not that there’s anything I can do now, but I need to see this girl.” I heard Vanessa asking him what was going on and Jackson still laughing, then he hung up.

Victoria pouted at me. “It isn’t urgent. My brother is a complete bastard, Max. His wife’s loaded and she’ll keep funding their solicitor until I give up.”

I ignored her. “Have you seen this will?”

She shook her head. “Only the one that I thought was the more recent.”

“Has your solicitor asked to see the will your brother has?”

She thought for a moment. “I think so. He’s not told me anything in detail about it, just that there’s a more recent will where my grandfather left everything to Francis.”

“Do you believe that your grandfather would’ve done that?”

Her eyes caught the waiter’s. “Can I have a large glass of merlot, please?” she said. “Actually, make it the bottle, and don’t let this man pay.”

“Do you believe that your grandfather would’ve done that?”

“Are you going to keep asking me the same question?”

“Until I get an answer that’s truthful, yes.”

Her stare was agonising. “No. My grandfather despised Francis and the woman he married. He gave him money towards a deposit on a house and after that he refused him anything. Francis was an egotistical, assuming bastard who thought he deserved everything without working for it.”

“Don’t hold back on your opinion.”

She smiled and I felt like the king of a very large country. “However, I don’t know much, if anything, about how the law works and my solicitor seemed to think that my grandad had done that.”

“What if I was to tell you that your brother’s solicitor and your grandfather’s were related?” I said, half holding my breath. She hadn’t researched the companies; if she had it was as clear as a fresh tattoo on a virgin back, and a huge conflict of interest.

“Then I would assume that someone was being paid off, but I may have read too many conspiracy theories.” Her expression was interested and alert, but I couldn’t read her eyes.

“Okay. Here’s my thoughts: your brother has filed a caveat that your solicitor is supporting, for whatever reason. He’s waiting for you to run out of money and stop contesting his argument so the inheritance falls to him. I want Jackson here so he can look into it—he’s the best person I know for rationalising what’s right and wrong,” I said. Going off my gut instincts, she was being had and whoever was acting for her and her brother was due a windfall when she gave up. “How much is your grandfather’s estate worth?”

“I think it’s one point two million.”

My coffee cup tipped over, almost knocking into her wine glass.

“Pounds?”

“No, fucking roubles. What do you think?”

I laughed loudly and she started to join in. “Why weren’t you contesting your brother’s claim?” I said, trying to keep us real.

“I thought I was. My lawyer told me it took time and he was dealing with it and I kept getting the bill for his fees. I ended up not being able to pay for a couple of months and he said he couldn’t proceed any further until I was up to date with my payments.” She met my eyes and held my gaze. “Judging by your expression, I was stupid.”

I paused, wondering if I should sugarcoat my answer. “I’m not sure stupid is the right adjective. You should’ve questioned the advice, but most people in your position would’ve trusted what they were told. Drink your wine. I’ll let Jackson explain what we’re going to do.”

“How do you know what he’s going to say?” she said, her eyes wide and pleading and god knows how I resisted sweeping her up and carrying her to the nearest private area where I could start to consume her.

“Because he’s my brother and we’ve worked together a long time. And from what I’m hearing, we’re looking at reporting your lawyer to the Solicitors’ Regulatory Authority at the very least. We’ll take your case from them and go after your brother, but you need to hear that from Jackson and not me,” I said, filling the glass that had been left for me with the wine the waiter had left at our table.

Victoria nodded, sipping quickly at her own. “I don’t care about the money,” she said. “I know that sounds ridiculous, but I always set out to make my own way with studying and lecturing and then writing. But I know my grandfather wanted me to use his money to support me with that, as it was what he had wanted to do.”

“Why didn’t he do it?” I said, persuading myself to not find out her brother’s address and pay him a visit in the morning.

“Because Grandad couldn’t afford to when he was young enough. His money came from compensation from my grandmother and an accident she had at work that left her an invalid. Then he had to look after her. Davies versus McHammond Homes. I suspect you’ve heard of it.”

I had. It was a textbook case: life changing injury on an industrial site that would ultimately lead to death. She was the main earner for the family, with two children to support. The compensation had been unprecedented and deserved, the lawyer doing a thorough job. It had clearly been well-invested by Victoria’s grandfather to have that as a legacy though.

“Yes. I studied it.”

“Studied what?” Jackson appeared, Vanessa immediately taking the seat next to Victoria and finding an empty wine glass.

I gave him the case and date and he nodded. No matter how much alcohol they had consumed my siblings always knew their shit.

Forty minutes later, he knew as much as he needed to know right now. The bottle of red wine was empty, Victoria was gulping back a pint of water and Vanessa was half asleep leaning against Jackson’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time I got you home,” Jackson said, moving hair from Vanessa’s face. “Walk or cab?”

Vanessa mumbled something unintelligible.

“Cab,” Jackson said. “My shoulder’s too sore to carry you.”

There was another mumble from Vanessa.

“I should head home too,” Victoria said. “I still feel bad about Max hijacking your night.” She looked at my brother and Vanessa, who now had her eyes open.

I scowled.

“No hijacking involved. I’ll get your file transferred to us on Monday and oversee it. Make sure that Maxwell has your contact details and I’ll speak to you Monday afternoon,” Jackson said, his hands massaging Vanessa’s shoulders. My own hands itched to touch Victoria; something about the four of us sitting there together felt right. I rarely introduced a woman to my family as I had no intention of settling down. Having a wife and children wasn’t something I thought was for me, so I didn’t want to lead any woman I was seeing on by letting her think it was something more. But nothing was going on with me and Victoria. We’d only ever met twice, although we had communicated a lot via email. I’d had my arm around her, I’d touched her and maybe not entirely platonically, but we hadn’t kissed. I wasn’t even sure she wanted to kiss me.

“It was good to meet you. Max doesn’t always introduce us to his colleagues from the university,” Jackson said.

She smiled sweetly at my brother, sweetly with a touch of sass. “Given that I’m sure you’ve met Niall and Carol before, is it just females in their late twenties and early thirties he doesn’t introduce you to?”

Jackson and Vanessa both laughed. I rolled my eyes and looked heavenwards. “I rarely have time to introduce anyone to anyone. Plus, I could jeopardise my job at the university if the administration questioned the sanity of my family.”

“All the best people are mad,” Victoria said, her eyes meeting mine, her smile now sweet with a hint of sex.

My cock twitched in my jeans and my eyes dropped to her tits, her bra just visible through a semi-sheer shirt.

“It’s a good job you think that,” Jackson said, standing then pulling Vanessa up to her feet gently. “Because we’re definitely certifiable. Have a good weekend; I’ll probably see you next week.”

Vanessa leaned in and gave Victoria a quick hug. “It’s been lovely to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“You too,” Victoria said, hugging her back. “I should head off myself.”

“I’ll drop you off,” I said, slapping Jackson on the back as he headed out.

“You don’t know where I live,” she said. “And I’d rather you didn’t find out.”

I froze, studying her. “I’m not stalker material,” I eventually said. “You’ve nothing to worry about from me.”

Victoria reddened slightly. “Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just where I live is a bit of a dump. And I wouldn’t have put you down as a stalker type.”

I felt my shoulders relax. “You said the roof was leaking. Is your landlord getting it sorted?”

Throwing her coat around her shoulders, she headed to the door and into the night outside. “It’s the cheapest accommodation I could find close to the university, so it saves me time and money for tube fares. The landlord isn’t bothered about fixing stuff because if I don’t like it, I can move out and he’d easily get someone else in instead.”

I stamped on the urge to fix everything for her because she didn’t need that from me. “What about university accommodation? Is there nothing available?”

“There’s an apartment coming vacant in January through May, as one of the history professors is going on a secondment to Durham. I’m subletting and it should get me through to the end of my doctorate. So I can put up with the city’s worst landlord and a flat that smells of mildew,” she said, looking up at me with a smile. “I have to pick my battles, Max. Otherwise I’d spend my whole life fighting.”

I didn’t smile back. “Don’t you think you’re doing a disservice to whoever rents that flat next by not reporting the landlord to the council? And if the damp’s that bad, it’s not good for your health.”

After our mother died—mine, Jackson’s, Claire’s and Callum’s—I’d taken over the role of protector, given that my father was completely absorbed by work and had no idea how to relate to children. By the time Dad married our stepmother, Marie, who was the best thing to ever happen to us, I’d had a few sharp lessons in helping other people to look after themselves, rather than doing it for them, although I still found it hard.

She stopped walking and faced me. “Maxwell, I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but honestly, I’m okay. And I’m not sure if you’re going in the right direction.”

“I’m walking you home. It’s late. Or I’m getting in a cab with you so you get home safe,” I said, although it sounded more like a growl.

Victoria poked me in the stomach. “Ouch! You have abs. I think you’ve just broken my nail!”

“Then you shouldn’t have poked me.” I eyed her, trying to judge her mood. “Unless you’d like me to poke you somewhere?”

This time she used her knuckle to dig me in the stomach. “I’m rarely at my apartment. I sleep with the windows open so it’s well ventilated and I can walk home by myself, but if it makes you feel better, it’s about another fifteen minutes from here.” She turned and started to walk, faster than anyone in high heels should be able to. “We’ll have the poking conversation when I’m more sober than I am right now.”

I followed, as if I would’ve done anything else, catching her up easily. “If we can get some of your inheritance released, would you look for a better place to stay?”

“Yes. I’m not a martyr. But given what my brother is like, I’m not expecting anything. I get that you’re good and your brother seems even better,” she eyed me, tempting me to take the bait, “but you’re not miracle workers. I know my grandfather wanted me to have his money and the house but with Francis saying there’s another will—”

“Which no one has seen,” I interrupted. “We’ll be asking to view the will within five working days. When it’s not produced, Jackson will start various proceedings that will scare the shit out of them professionally. He’ll go after your brother for attempt to fraud and look to sue him for damages because of how you’ve had to live, paying for your doctorate when it was your grandfather’s wish for it to be paid by him, and other circumstances that you’ve suffered.”

She looked up at me, words about to spew out that I already knew.

“Victoria, it’s one point two million. It is a life changing amount of money. Even if you don’t change your lifestyle, it leaves you free to pursue an academic career without having to worry about your finances,” I said before she could deny wanting the cash.

Her lips closed and I dug my hands into my pockets, so I didn’t try to touch her.

“I know. I don’t want it to change me. How much are you worth?”

I almost stopped walking in surprise. No one had ever asked me that before, although I’d had plenty of girlfriends who had been interested in finding out how well-provided for their shopping habits could be. “More than one point two million,” I said. “I couldn’t tell you exactly how much because it fluctuates with investments, but I don’t have to worry about money.”

“Do you think you would’ve been a different person if you hadn’t been so wealthy?” she said, heels clicking on the pavement.

“Yes,” I said without having to think. “I would’ve been more concerned with making money rather than doing what was necessarily right for my clients. I wouldn’t be working at the university as my time’s more valuable spent on cases.”

She stopped walking suddenly and stooped down, taking off her shoes. “These fucking things are killing my feet. Why they can’t design them to be comfortable, I don’t know.” She stood up, shoes in hand.

“You’re going to walk the rest of the way in bare feet?” I said. “Jump on.” I stopped and squatted down.

“What?”

“I’ll give you a piggy back.”

“I’m okay. I’ve walked home barefoot before.”

“I’ve no doubt you have, but not when you’re with me. Jump on.”

“I’m heavy.”

Like fuck she was. “I can squat two hundred ten kilograms without sweating. Jump on.”

I expected her to continue to refuse, but instead I heard her laugh and felt a hand on my shoulder, then her legs wrapped round my waist, those glorious tits pushed against my back. Immediately, I knew it was a bad idea. My body reacted exactly as it should to a gorgeous woman being so close to me, smelling of musk and flowers.

“You’re a gentleman,” she murmured into my ear as I set off in the general direction.

“Need to know where I’m going, Miss Feisty,” I said, ignoring her comment. “We’ll discuss my fee when we get there.”

“Maybe not so much of a gentleman.” She ran a hand through my hair, pulling lightly and I wondered how she’d pull it if my head was between her thighs, eating her out.

“What plans do you have this weekend? Not that I’m trying to encroach on them or anything.”

“I’m seeing my dad and stepmum at their house in Oxfordshire. We’re all going,” I said, finding my stride and managing to cope with the semi I had going on in my trousers.

“It sounds good. It must be nice to have a big family you can hang out with,” she said, sounding sad. Taking her with me was an option: my parents were used to us bringing friends or partners with us for weekends up at the big house, but we had a lot going on with Claire right now and throwing someone into the mix wouldn’t necessarily be the right call. And I always made the right call.

“It is. As much as they irritate the shit out of me, I quite like them. What are you doing?” I said and she pointed to take a left turn.

“Research for the dissertation. I have a meeting with my mentor on Monday, so I need to be a bit further on than where I am. I’ll be pretty much living at the law admin block for the next couple of days. I’m seriously debating taking a sleeping bag,” she said, her hands resting on my shoulders. “You give a good ride.”

“That’s what all the pretty girls tell me,” I said, my fingers on her leather covered legs. “If you want somewhere with decent Wi-Fi and a better kitchen than what’s at the department then you can use my apartment. I think you’re trustworthy enough to have my keys for a couple of days.”

“We’re taking the next left,” she said, pointing down a quiet side street. “Thank you for the offer. I’m okay working at, well, work, this weekend as I can use the internal systems to check out some online journals, but another time that would be useful. This is me.”

We stopped outside a run-down terrace whose window frames looked rotten and crumbling. The front door opened and a man with a large belly and stained t-shirt appeared, eyeing Victoria greedily.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking and you don’t need to say anything because I agree with you. However, this is only temporary and I’m very careful. Thank you for a lovely evening and you can put me down now.”

I stalled, debating keeping hold of her, turning around and installing her in my apartment, or better still my bed.

“Maxwell,” she said.

I bent my knees and felt her weight change to the ground.

Barefoot, she was almost a foot shorter than me, her long hair stopping at her waist. “Sorry. I wouldn’t have my sisters live here.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t want you to take me home as I knew what your reaction would be. But I don’t have your sisters’ money.”

Doe eyes looked up at me and if she wouldn’t come to mine I wondered about staying here with her. Then I remembered the temper and fire I had seen just over a week ago; she could look after herself and to offer my protective services would insult her.

“If you can manage to get some of my grandfather’s money, that will be a huge help.”

Nodding was about the only thing I could trust myself to do.

“Maxwell,” she said quietly. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.”

She cupped my face with her hands and stood on tiptoes to reach me, pressing her lips to mine. No tongue, no depth, just the sweetest kiss; full of promise like the first page of a book.

“I thought not,” she said, returning her heels to the floor, her arms back by her sides. “You can’t keep your eyes off my boobs.”

I should’ve attempted to look embarrassed but opted instead to look at her tits. I could make out hard nipples through the thin material of her shirt and bra, which wasn’t padded. I hoped I had been the cause of them hardening. “You’ve got the best pair of tits I’ve ever seen,” I said, biting my lip immediately after. That wasn’t something you should say to someone you worked with and were now acting for, even if it was the goddamn truth. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Her hands moved to her chest and she gently cupped them through her clothes. The semi I’d had became a full-on erection and if she looked at my crotch it would be obvious to her the effect she was having on me.

“Why? If it’s the truth, then why not say it? And you’re right. They are pretty great. I get to see them naked at least twice on a daily basis.” She grinned at me, giving her tits another squeeze before letting them go. Her nipples were hard bullets now and I felt my cock pulse against the zipper of my jeans.

“Fuck,” I said. “If we’re being honest, then know that all I’m going to be able to think about for the rest of the night, and probably the weekend, is what they’d look like with my mouth on them. Shit, Vic. This isn’t a conversation we should be having.”

She stood on her tiptoes again, her arms wrapping around my neck and bringing me into a hug. Her breasts pressed against my chest and my hands went to her ass, pulling her against me so she could feel exactly how hard she had made me. I shifted so I could kiss her, a mirror kiss to the one she had given me. Her lips were soft and I could taste red wine and something that was just her. “I’ll stand here until I see your light come on and I know you’re in okay.”

She nodded. “Have a good weekend and I’ll see you next week. You have my number?”

“It’s in my phone,” I’d programmed it in earlier. “I’ll text you so you have mine.”

“Goodnight, Max.” I watched her enter through the door that was half off its hinges, her ass swaying in the tight leather trousers. A minute or two later a light came on, then a silhouette at the window. It was Victoria, standing at the glass two storeys up, long hair down over her tits that were no long restrained by clothes or a bra. Her hair concealed her nipples and most of her flesh, but that didn’t matter. She’d given me even more to think about, and probably become frustrated over. And given the slight wave she gave me before she turned away, baring the flesh of her back, she knew it.