Provocation SAMPLE (Book 3 of The Conquest Series)

Prologue

"Nate?" Harry asked. His voice sounded more controlled more than he actually felt. "What's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, geez," Nate told his father, rolling his eyes at the phone. "I was just going to let you know I've hired all the necessary management and have made plans for a trip back to The States."

"Really? What brought this on?"

Harry had known that Nate wouldn't be able to handle the reins for all the Charles' businesses by himself, but he didn't expect his son to come home directly after newly appointing his executive and management teams.

"I...I just need to get away for a bit," Nate told him. "It's been a while since I've been back home, and I think I want to stick close by for a bit."

"But the wedding's not for another two months," Harry argued. "Surely you can wait to come back until then."

Harry didn't want his businesses being run without Nate being there to oversee them. He had only met the prospective management through Zoom and Skype, and he liked to have a better idea about them before possibly allowing them to run his companies into the ground.

"I'm taking an extended vacation," Nate informed him. "During which time I told everyone at work I would be able to be reached at any time, day or night. Your companies are still safe with me, Pop."

"How long is this vacation?"

Nate could hear the suspicion in his father's voice, and he sighed quietly. "I'm not sure yet," Nate admitted. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you so you weren't surprised when I popped up on your doorstep with some luggage and a smile. We can talk more about it when I get there."

Harry sighed as well, quite loudly into the phone. He was irritated with his firstborn, and it showed in the long exhalation of air. "Fine," Harry said. "We'll discuss this over drinks when you get in. Send your mother your itinerary and we'll have someone pick you up from the airport."

After hanging up the phone a minute later, Nate went back to packing up his flat in London. He had movers coming over for the larger items, and some of his smaller belongings were being shipped directly back to The States. His clothing and toiletries were waiting to be packed away in his bedroom, and there were a number of smaller things he needed to attend to. Mainly, giving his key to his landlord and having his utilities taken out of his name. The place was already set for lease once he left. He happened to have rented some seriously prime real estate.

A knock on the door announced the movers who would take his items to the storage place until he could figure out what to do with the larger furniture. He hadn't told his father, but he wasn't planning on coming back to England—not now, at least. Hopefully, not ever again, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that there wouldn't be times he would need to go back for any number of reasons. After all, it was what his father had done until a few years ago when he'd handed the reins over to Nathan Charles, his son.

But no, things were different now. Unpleasant. Every purchase he had made in the past year and every movie stub or ticket he kept from a show on The West End was now a reminder of why he needed to leave.

Fucking Lorelei.

After escorting in the movers and giving them the keys to his storage unit, he let them work as he thumbed through his phone, trying to delete every last photo of her or them together. He had a hard time doing so before sternly reminding himself what had happened a couple of weeks previously.

Heading over to her flat after work, he'd decided to surprise her with dinner and some flowers. He'd shown up to her flat before with flowers and food on a whim, and she had always been elated by his sweet gestures. Not so much, this time.