West Running Wild: West Series, #1

By Gem Stone

Catherine West is caretaker of the Wild Sanctuary. She's disorganised, has a nosy family and likes to shout at the TV, but she loves all the animals in her care.
Marcus Wild runs Wild Enterprises. He doesn't play well with others, likes everything to be clean and organised, dates perfect women, and has never even owned a fish.
Thanks to the late Mr Wild's will, Marcus is about to spend a year taking care of the Wild Sanctuary, and if Cathy's wants to inherit enough money to set up on her own, she's going to help him.
Opposites attract and fur flies when West meets Wild!
With lots of sarcasm, fun, revenge, and passion, West Running Wild is guaranteed to keep you laughing. Join Marcus and Cathy as they both discover what they never knew they were missing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gem Stone
• Release date: Mar 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386780359

Gem Stone

Gem Stone lives in England with the man of her dreams and her two children. She spends her spare time reading, writing, blogging, and talking to her pets. She is a firm believer that surprises make life worth living, you can’t pick who you fall in love with, and everyone deserves a happy ending. If you want to know more about her, this is where she can be found: Website: https://www.gemstoneauthor.co.uk Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/G3m.Stone Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/GemStoneAuthor

Book preview

Chapter 1

Marcus Wild huffed and tapped his fingers on the faded arm of the tan leather chair in his deceased father's attorney's office. He impatiently surveyed the bookshelves lining one wall and the family portraits on another. The cluttered office's windows were too thin, enabling him to hear the busy hum of the lunchtime traffic from the main road. His foot twitched as he checked his wristwatch. He'd been waiting for half an hour. Had the circumstances been different, he'd rearrange the appointment, but he needed to hear the details of his father's will.

A ping from his phone signalled an email. After reading it, he composed one to his assistant, Sandra, advising her to cancel his one o’clock appointment. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting out of here anytime soon. Three emails later Mr Beats, the attorney, scuttled into the office.

Rushing over, he grabbed Marcus's hand and gave it a firm shake. Ah, Marcus, so good to see you, although I wish the circumstances were better.

Yes, Marcus replied, carefully extricating himself from Harry Beats' grip. Well, it is what it is. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m extremely busy so if we can get on with things?

Of course, of course. Harry shuffled through the documents on his cluttered desk.

How anyone managed work on such a chaotic workspace, Marcus would never understand; his own desk stayed spotless. His phone and pens sat in one corner, and a paperweight given to him by his father sat in the other. It held a photograph of an ugly cat. If he was honest, he didn’t like it, but it was a gift from the old man so he wouldn’t remove it.

Ah, here it is. Harry held up a brown envelope, triumphantly, as he sank into his chair on the other side of the desk. I assume I'm fine to skip the preliminaries?

Marcus waved his hand in a continue motion and leant back in the seat to half listen while he wrote another email.

Right, Harry began. As you're aware, you are your father’s sole heir.

Marcus nodded while pulling up his updated itinerary for the rest of the day. His one o’clock had been rearranged to four.

... Understands you have been running the company... Harry said.

Marcus nodded again; his two o’clock was a late lunch at Armand’s.

... House and everything... Harry continued.

Marcus cautiously checked his watch; he should be able to make lunch.

... Animals live there...

At half three he had a meeting with Andrew Slate.

... Full control of the company...

The bloody man had messed up contracts he’d been told to review.

... One year... he heard Harry say.

Damn, Park & Son had refused to meet with him.

... Look after the animals and charity...

He would have to ask Sandra, to find out why they refused.

Wait, what was that? Marcus interrupted frowning.

Look after the animals? Harry replied.

No, before that.

Oh, one year, Harry continued from the place he'd left off.

I’m sorry, Marcus interrupted again, leaning forward in his chair. Would you mind repeating the whole bit for me? I didn’t quite understand what you said.

Harry frowned at Marcus over the rim of his spectacles before placing the document down on his desk with a thump. What I’m attempting to explain is, to inherit the company you must take care of your late father’s animals for a year and run his charity.

Marcus sat dumbfounded for a moment, his brow furrowed. But I already run the company.

Harry removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. Yes, you do, but you don’t own it. In order to obtain full control your father wished you to take care of his animals and charity for a year.

You can’t be serious? Marcus sat straighter. His phone clattered to the floor as he floundered for a response. "What an absurd clause, I don’t mind the charity bit, but the animals? Are you sure he expects me to care for them personally?

Harry gave a firm nod.

Well, that won't work for me. How do we go around this? He retrieved his phone and examined it for damage.

I'm afraid there's no getting around it, Marcus, Harry sighed. Your father was of sound mind when he wrote the will and has made sure its iron clad. If you don’t take care of his animals for a year, you lose the company. I believe he thought this would teach you compassion.

But... but... but... Marcus stuttered, at an odd loss for words. Animals have germs. And what if I’m allergic?

Are you allergic? Harry regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

I don’t know, stressed Marcus. I’ve never been around animals, and for good reason. I don’t like them, and they don’t like me. There must be a way out of this.

A nervous tic developed in his eye the more he thought about animals scuttling around his apartment. No, it wouldn’t do. He couldn’t do it.

He'd never had so much as a pet fish, and at the age of thirty-five, he saw no reason to change. This was all because his dad got that stupid dog seven years ago. Suddenly he had become sentimental about living creatures and begun a charity.

Granted, the charity had been a good thing. It's kept the old man very occupied in his retirement and Marcus had no problem overseeing things now his father had passed away. That didn’t mean he wanted the bloody dog too. He'd never been an animal person; Marcus liked order and routine. Animals were unpredictable and dirty.

Harry sighed. You either take on the animals or lose the company. He stared at Marcus, waiting for a response.

The tic in his eye grew worse, and his palms began to sweat. Okay, he said at last. I can do this. I mean, I run a multi-million-pound company. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of a few animals. What is there? I remember a dog. Is there a cat too?

Harry sat straighter and gaped at Marcus with his lips pursed. Mr Wild, I don’t think you fully understand what your father has been doing in his retirement.

Oh, I know some charity work to do with animals, which is presumably what gave him this insane idea. Well, I’m sure I’ll manage. Marcus got to his feet and adjusted his cuffs and jacket. Email all the details over to my office, I’ll arrange everything. Or better yet, have his pets and their care instructions sent to my apartment.

Harry rushed around the desk, blocking his path. Mr Wild... Marcus, I truly don’t think that’s a good idea.

Nonsense, Marcus insisted, stepping around the shorter man and walking out the door. Just arrange things will you please, Harry, and email me a copy of the will? Thank you, and I’ll see you soon.

Okay, Marcus, Harry called.

As he entered the lift, the faint sound of chuckling reached him. Marcus frowned. What the hell was Harry finding so amusing?

...

Marcus left Harry’s office and strolled down the hectic London Street; lunch time traffic was much too busy to travel in. He'd reach the restaurant in five minutes and arrange to be picked up from there.

As he walked, he emailed Sandra his plan, informing her about the specifics of the will.

His attention got torn from the screen when a stunning woman bumped into him as he waited to cross the road. He apologised, smiling, even though he was aware she'd deliberately knocked him to gain his attention. He admired her figure as she walked ahead, across the road. If he wasn’t dating Elaine, he would have found a way to get her number.

Take care of pets, he thought once the woman moved from view. What was he expected to do with animals? If only he could recall what they were. He hadn’t visited the family home in at least three years, finding it easier to meet in town for lunch. On his last visit, he saw a dog. Okay, a dog couldn’t be too hard to handle. There were plenty of dog walkers for hire in London. His father probably had a cat too judging by the paper weight. Hmm, cats messed in the house. He would have to pay the housekeeper extra to deal with a litter tray. Did he see anything else? He couldn’t remember.

Before long the restaurant loomed before him. As soon as he entered, he was escorted to his table. His date hadn’t turned up yet, which didn’t surprise him. His latest companion, Elaine, never turned up on time, preferring to be fashionably late, so he ordered a drink and ran a search on local dog walkers while he waited. By the time she arrived, he'd phoned a walker with excellent reviews and arranged for him to stop by the apartment at seven o’clock that evening. He should be home then, and no doubt his father’s dog would be in need of a walk.

Elaine breezed through the room as if she owned the place, gliding on exceptionally high heels, and turning heads as she moved. She looked immaculate, as usual, her long sleek black hair expertly styled, and her red designer dress clinging in all the right places.

Marcus admired her approach. She reached his table, and he stood to give her a peck on the cheek.

Hello, darling, she said, gracefully dropping into the seat opposite. She delicately placed her matching purse on the table before her eager eyes met his. So, how did it go?

Marcus gave her a rundown of the will’s details.

Are you serious? Horror passed over her face. Animals? And you’re supposed to look after them?

Apparently, he grimaced as he fiddled with his knife. Still, it’s only for a year. How hard can caring for a dog and a cat be?

You’re right, Elaine nodded. And we can always stay at my place more often.

A grin spread across Marcus's face. Indeed we can. He was definitely due a night with Elaine. The rest of the meal consisted of small talk about parties and lunches. Elaine had a particularly busy schedule for a lady of leisure and constantly seemed to be attending some event or other though he probably took her to half of them. She hung nicely on his arm at occasions, always knew how to act and what to say, a definite commodity in the business world.

If he ever considered a relationship, she would be the type of person he wanted. Nevertheless, it wasn't a possibility. He didn’t do commitment in any way, shape or form. After witnessing his parent's attempts at a relationship, he decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. However, Elaine was nice to have around, for now.

At six o’clock Marcus headed home. Traffic was terrible as he navigated the streets of London to his apartment. The tube would be quicker, but he couldn’t bring himself to wait around in a busy subway station, crowded with strangers. He much preferred to be sitting in the comfort of his car so every day he spent half an hour or more travelling to and from home.

He pulled into the car park below his building at quarter to seven and headed for the lift, keen to get inside and relax. It surprised him to see Trev, his landlord, pacing the maroon carpet outside his apartment door when he departed the lift.

He'd often thought of buying a place, but Trev seemed a decent man and always made sure any repairs were dealt with rapidly, so he stayed. It meant he didn’t have to worry about those things himself. But, as he approached the short balding fellow, who seemed to be guarding his apartment door, he began to wonder about the advantages of having somewhere more private.

Ah, Mr Wild, I'm so glad you're back, Trev said, wringing his hands anxiously. I’m very sorry, but I think I need to have a word with you about our pet policy.

Marcus raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms while standing straighter. At his maximum height, he was a good foot taller than the other man. Oh, what about it?

The little man shrank in on himself, his eyes flickered to the door, the wall, and anywhere that wasn’t Marcus. Well, the thing is, there are specific rules, and well, the thing is...

Come on, spit out man, Marcus barked, losing patience. This day had been long and tiring. He wanted to sit on his sofa and relax with a cool glass of something strong. This man was the one thing standing between him and that drink.

You can’t keep them, Trev blurted his face turning bright red and still avoiding looking at Marcus. I allowed them into the apartment because, well, they couldn’t stay in the lobby where those awful delivery men threatened to leave them. But they simply must go.

Don’t be ridiculous, man, Marcus stated, remembering his late father’s pets would have been delivered by now. I know damn well you allow pets here. The woman who lives in 2B has a walking mop. I never hear you telling her to get rid of it, despite the thing yapping at all hours of the day and night.

Trev glanced at the apartment door. This is a bit different, Mr Wild. I mean, we’re not talking about one dog, are we?

What do you mean? asked Marcus beginning to feel a tad worried by the landlord’s expression. He glanced at his door wondering what was behind it and cursing the superb quality of the building which made the walls virtually sound proof.

I mean... Well, look! The other man gestured towards the door.

Marcus's stomach churned. He had no idea what his apartment door hid, but he had a feeling it was bad, very bad. He stared at the handle for a whole minute while the short man stood behind him, still wringing his hands. He never normally hesitated about anything, but something about the expression of his landlord made him extremely worried.

Marcus finally grew the nerve to reach for the door. His hand trembled as he put his key in the lock and his palms started to sweat as he gripped the handle. What had gotten Trev so worked up? He twisted the handle, pushed the door open slowly, and froze.

Firm hands shoved him into the room causing him to stumble as the door slammed shut and the landlord shouted, Don’t let them out!

What the hell was going on? He expected a dog and a cat. Well, he could see the dog; the big black thing currently stood by the window, digging all the soil out of one of his potted plants and kicking it all over his beige rug. Was that a chicken he saw run around the back of the sofa? As he strained to the right to see, a squawk sounded above him. What he thought to be, a pigeon flew over his head, messing on his shoulder in the process.

What the fuck? Marcus ducked and glowed in disgust at the white blob now marring the shoulder of his jacket.

The chicken ran out from behind the sofa again, followed by a duck which appeared to be getting chased by a growling creature that resembled a small tiger. He slowly removed his phone from his pocket, and dialled Harry’s home number, while carefully retreating until his back hit the door.

Marcus, said a jolly voice on the other end of the line. I wondered how long it would be before you called.

Harry, what the bloody hell is going on? Marcus whispered. "Why does my home resemble a petting zoo, and who the fuck put a tiger in here?"

The static of the phone line was his only reply until a great booming laugh startled him. Marcus, that’s not a tiger, he’s a cat.

The thing looks like a bloody tiger to me, snarled Marcus.

Harry chuckled on the other end of the phone. I assure you he’s a cat.

Well, cat or tiger, why are all these animals here?

"You did say to deliver them there."

I expected a dog and a cat, replied Marcus, ducking to avoid the squawking pigeon again. The thing appeared to be aiming for his other shoulder now. You said a dog and a cat.

"Actually, you said a dog and a cat. I attempted to correct you, but you left before I could."

The line fell silent as Marcus struggled to think of a suitable response. Okay, Harry. You’re right, he admitted grudgingly. What do I do now?

I’ll arrange for the animals to be returned to their own home within the hour, assured Harry. I’ll say this, though, Marcus, you have a lot more responsibility now. I strongly recommend you consider moving back to your family home for the foreseeable future.

Alright, Harry, I’ll consider it, Marcus responded, not meaning a word he spoke. In the meantime, if we can get these animals moved tonight, I’ll go there tomorrow to get a full rundown of the situation.

Consider it done, Harry said, chuckling before hanging up.

Marcus put his phone away and leant more heavily against the door with a sigh. Seconds later someone knocked on it.

He opened the door a crack to see a young man who appeared to be in his twenties, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His landlord stood not far behind still wringing his hands. It’s alright, Marcus told Trev. They’ll be gone within the hour.

Trev nodded and sprinted down the corridor without a backwards glance.

Marcus turned his attention back to the man.

Hey man, the youth greeted. You hired me to walk your dog.

He allowed the guy in and hastily closed the door behind him.

Err... yes. He gazed around, spotting the dog, who was taking a pee on his kitchen floor.

Hey, listen... sorry man, but I only walk dogs, you know.

Marcus followed the young man's gaze to the open bathroom doorway, where he clearly saw a zebra, drinking from his toilet.

Chapter 2

The summer sunlight shone brightly on the sparkling windows as Marcus stared up at the five bedroom, two level house. Neat flower beds surrounded it, indicating the gardener still did his job since his father’s passing.

It still felt like home despite not visiting in roughly three years. He had fond memories of this place from his childhood. He also had bad ones; for instance, the time shortly before his mother left. It was hard to believe his dad wasn’t inside.

The whinny of a large brown horse, to his right, caught his attention. The zebra which had seemed to enjoy his toilet so much stood in the large pasture with it. A short curvy woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, appeared to be feeding them. She glanced in his direction, as he slammed the car door closed, and waved signalling she would meet him inside. He raised his hand in response before heading into the house.

First stop, the kitchen.

After the animals had been removed from his apartment last night, he'd taken one look at the mess, walked straight out, and booked himself into a hotel. Unfortunately, the place didn’t do breakfast this early in the morning. Today he would have to give his cleaner the day off and arrange for an industrial cleaning crew to scrub the place. He spotted the dog that seemed to like pot plants so much, sat by a bowl, scratching. And possibly fumigate, he thought, as it rushed towards him and slobbered on his hand in an attempt to gain attention.

Nice, Marcus grumbled washing off the drool, before brewing the coffee. He raided the fridge for breakfast, surprised to see the appliance well stocked.

Good morning. You must be Marcus. A soft voice spoke behind him.

He faced the woman he'd seen in the field. She was pretty in a wholesome girl next door kind if way. She had nice curves, and the smile she gave him looked genuine.

Hello, he replied. You're obviously aware who I am, I'm afraid I can’t say the same for you.

I’m sorry, she responded. I'm Catherine West, although everyone calls me Cathy. I take care of the animals.

That’s perfect. Marcus gave his first real smile in twenty-four hours. A spark of hope ignited in him as a bit of tension left his body. I clearly know nothing about animals, so I think the best thing would be if we continued with whatever arrangement you had with my father. Naturally, you’ll be well paid...

Hmmm, your father told me you would suggest something along those lines, Mr Wild, Cathy replied. Her face lost its friendly smile, and her body stiffened as she crossed her arms over her chest. "As I’m certain you’re aware, your father stated in his will, you must care for the animals. I’m happy to help, and I’ll teach you everything you need to know. But, this is still your responsibility. I made a promise to your father that I'd make sure his wishes were carried out, and I’m not about to break that promise."

Hmm, like that is it? groaned Marcus, thinking the woman no longer looked half as nice, or friendly.

I’m afraid so. The