Most Eligible Bachelor: Men of Distinction, #1

By Empi Baryeh

A one-night-stand with a billionaire bachelor leaves a happily single writer wanting more... 

 

Magazine columnist, Chantelle Sah doesn't celebrate Valentine's Day—not since her fianceì's betrayal three years ago. She's thrown herself into her career, but after a botched assignment as a feature writer, she will do everything for a scoop this Valentine's Day. Even if it means breaking her rule and going on a date with gorgeous construction Tycoon, Lord McKenzie... opening herself to an onslaught of all things love.

 

When Lord—his given name, not a title—sets his sights on Chantelle, he has more than work on his mind. Yet, even the infamous playboy couldn't have predicted the magnetic attraction from the moment they met, nor the evening ending with more than just an interview. But now he has to convince Chantelle that their one-night stand wasn't a mistake... and that not all bachelors are heartbreakers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Empi Baryeh
• Release date: Feb 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393912828

Empi Baryeh

Empi Baryeh is the award-winning author of Most Eligible Bachelor (Book of the year, 2017 Ufere Awards). She works fulltime as a university administrator and spend her spare time writing sweet and sensual African, multicultural and interracial romance, and women's fiction. Her interest in writing started around the age of thirteen after she stumbled upon a YA story her sister had started and abandoned. The story fascinated her so much that, when she discovered it was unfinished, she set out to complete it. Somehow the rest of the story began to take shape in her mind and she's been writing ever since. She lives in Accra, Ghana, with her husband and their two lovely kids.

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EMPI BARYEH

Copyright © Empi Baryeh, 2020

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Editor:

Zee Monodee

Cover Design:

Love Bites and Silk

Reach Empi:

empibaryeh.com

Dear Reader,

Most Eligible Bachelor was originally released in February 2012. Lord McKenzie is still one of my favourite heroes to write about. I know some of you didn’t get to read the story, since it wasn’t available on platforms and formats accessible to you. So when I got the rights back, I thought it would be a good idea to re-release it, first to give a chance to those who didn’t get to read it. Secondly, I wanted to give more ‘story’ to fans of the book.

The basic story remains the same, but I’ve added brand-new scenes. Notably, one that introduces the heroes of the of the series.

Most Eligible Bachelor won Book of the Year in the 2017 Ufere Awards and got an honourable mention in Bookriot’s article 28 Steamy Billionaire Romance Books.

As nervous as I always am, whenever I release a new book, I’m also thrilled for the opportunity to share Lord and Chantelle with you once again. I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoyed writing about them.

Thank you for reading!

DEDICATION

To everyone who has played a role in making this story come to be.

To all my readers. You make this job worth it.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Men of Distinction Alert

Books by Empi

Connect with Empi

About the author

Chapter 1

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE and war.

Sitting at her desk in the spacious office she shared with twelve others, Chantelle Sah typed out those words, the perfect title to her article for the April edition of Odopa magazine. The cursor blinked on the laptop screen as if in celebration of another job well done, well within her submission deadline.

A good thing, since she still had the feature story for April on her plate—an interview with construction tycoon and notorious playboy, Lord McKenzie. She snickered at the oddity of the name. What kind of parents named their kid Lord?

None of her business. Her job consisted of conducting the interview and writing her piece. God knew she couldn’t afford to have her feature swiped from under her feet. Again.

After two years of building a solid reputation with her lifestyle column, she’d pestered her editor for a chance to do a feature. He’d given her that opportunity a few months ago, and she’d blown it. Somehow, her story had leaked out to their number one competitor, Celeb magazine, leaving her scrambling for a back-up. For the first time ever, Celeb had sold more copies than Odopa. And it had been her fault.

Hey. The voice of her colleague, Dufie Swaniker, reeled her back from her momentary drift. Busy?

Chantelle sat back with a sigh. I’m about to call his Lordship.

Dufie clutched her chest in a dramatic fashion. Oh, I can just feel your pain.

"I swear. Randy’s doing this just to punish me for the Celeb incident."

Aw, come on. He’s doing you a favour. Do you know how many writers would kill for an interview with Ghana’s most eligible bachelor?

A snort of laughter slipped past her lips. Most eligible bachelor, my ass.

She winced. Maybe that was harsh. After all, she hadn’t even met the guy. Not exactly his fault he looked like God’s best work of creation, or that women didn’t let him forget it, even if by some miracle he wanted to. She humphed. As if.

He’s probably as shallow as he is good-looking. Add that to his ego-boosting name, and she had one pain-in-the-ass interview on her hands.

You really have it in for this guy, don’t you? Dufie chuckled. Listen, a group of us single ladies are going out for drinks tonight. Do you want to go?

She became quiet. Her gaze flickered over the cupid spin-danglers hanging from the ceiling and the floral bouquets and greeting cards adorning the rich mahogany workspaces. All around them, the office hummed with Valentine’s Day buzz and animated banter about romantic dates later in the evening. They all reminded her she’d been happy once, hopelessly in love. How had it all gone wrong?

She shoved those thoughts aside, focusing her attention on her friend. No, I think I’ll just go home and have a quiet evening.

Dufie folded her arms, perching herself at the edge of the desk. Chantelle, he’s been gone four years.

She didn’t answer, and the ensuing silence stretched between them for a beat.

I’m sorry for bringing it up. I know what you went through losing Martin so tragically, and then to find out— She stopped, as if realising she’d gone off on a tangent.

It’s all right, Dufie. You can say it. The part that had cut her deepest. He was with another woman.

She released a jagged breath, stunned to discover those words hadn’t been as hard to utter as she’d expected. The pain and anger still simmered somewhere inside, but, for the first time, she didn’t feel their weight crashing down on her. Maybe time did heal all wounds—or perhaps, she’d finally perfected her ability to numb her heart.

Martin was a jerk for breaking your heart, but you can’t hole up at home every Valentine’s Day because of what happened.

That’s not what I’m doing. I’m exhausted, and it’s only Wednesday. I need to unwind.

Liar.

Truth be told, she didn’t want to go out tonight, didn’t want to hear love songs or see happy couples. It would fill her with longing for the warm embrace of a lover, the intimacy a woman shared with a man, the heated you’re-the-only-one-for-me look. Going out on Valentine’s Day would expose her to an overdose of things she couldn’t allow herself to have, because she didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to risk her heart again.

She gave herself a mental shake, bringing her mind back to the present in time to catch Dufie’s response.

Well, you have three whole hours until close of day to reconsider. Let me know if you do.

She nodded, even though she didn’t intend to change her mind. I will. Thanks.

With a shrug, her colleague stood and sashayed off to her own desk. Alone again, she decided to make the call to Lord McKenzie. But not here, she thought, watching two other colleagues gushing about an e-card one had received. Aside from a desire for privacy, she needed to escape before she got any more unsolicited invitations to go out tonight.

Grabbing a pencil and notepad, she headed out and found one of their small meeting rooms. Just as she sat at the round table, the door opened, and her editor peered in.

Ah, there you are. He entered and shut the door. How are we doing with McKenzie’s story?

She frowned. Randy didn’t usually hound his writers, especially when they weren’t at risk of missing the submission deadline.

I’m about to call him. That’s why I slipped in here. She noted the somewhat anxious look on Randy’s face. Is everything all right?

"I just heard Celeb is also after him."

The words hit her like a kick in the belly, and a band of tension wound tight around her chest. Celeb had started a teaser campaign for their tenth anniversary celebrations, which they were kicking off in June. No details had yet been released. It seemed they were keeping a tight lid on it ... which could only imply one thing. They didn’t have the green light from McKenzie, or they would have started advance publicity for the issue.

Meaning her interview just became number one priority.

The good news is we want him for April.

Despite her attempt at putting a positive spin on things, tension continued to coil around her insides. Celeb, known for their guerrilla tactics, would move theirs up in a heartbeat if they caught wind of her piece.

"Do I have to remind you why you need to get to him before Celeb does?"

She swallowed, shaking her head.

Good.

And then he left.

She took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. That was a threat if she’d ever heard one. With her annual appraisal coming up in a few months, she couldn’t afford to lose this story. Especially not to Celeb. That would be just too embarrassing, not to mention how it would affect her prospects for a promotion in the future. Hopefully, Lord McKenzie wouldn’t make her jump through hoops before granting her the interview.

She retrieved the sticky note she’d received from Randy and unfolded it to reveal a cell phone number which she punched into her phone and hit send. While it rang, she idly wondered about Lord McKenzie’s middle name, and what on Earth his girlfriend called him. Correction, girlfriends.

Hello.

His voice boomed through the line, deep and husky, and an answering zing shot through her stomach.

She sat up. Okay, count that under weird.

Hi. She grimaced, and then amended her greeting. Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Lord McKenzie?

The one and only, sweetheart.

She frowned. Sweetheart? Oh, she’d be hating this guy after the phone call itself, never mind the interview.

Hi, Lord, uh, Mr. McKenzie, my name is Chantelle Sah. I’m—

Hello, Chantelle. What can I do you for?

His voice possessed a rich timbre, which coupled with his choice of words, evoked images of two bodies intertwined in passionate encounters. An unexpected thrill galloped up her spine.

Whoa, what the hell was that? Clearly, her self-imposed celibacy could use some reinforcement. She forced a smile, taking a second to compose herself.

You could grant me an interview. Good girl. Keep your mind on business.

Did I win something?

"Well, you were voted Most Eligible Bachelor by readers of Odopa magazine."

He gave a soft melodious laugh. I hate that.

She frowned, taken aback. You—pardon?

Do you know how much trouble you put me in by naming me Most Eligible Bachelor?

If by ‘trouble’ he meant more girls than he could bed, then yes, she knew. Well, she could only guess.

Maybe you can clarify things in the interview.

Silence followed as if he were contemplating her offer. Tell me, Chantelle Sah, are you single?

Yes, but I don’t—

Why on Earth would she say yes? An embarrassing warmth crept over her cheeks. Thank goodness this conversation wasn’t face-to-face. A flustered image wouldn’t make a good first impression. She should have rehearsed this call. Now she’d given him an upper hand, no matter how remote.

"Great. Why don’t you escort me to Afrodite tonight?"

She frowned. The nightclub?

He chuckled. Yes, the nightclub. I’m having a Valentine’s party there. Surely, you must have heard.

Yes, she’d heard. For weeks now, Lord McKenzie’s VIP party had dominated both traditional and social media. While technically open to the public, the venue—one of the most exclusive nightclubs in the city—and the ticket price restricted the party to the crème de la crème.

Well ...

She didn’t want a date. Particularly not tonight. However, if he was willing to grant her an audience, what choice did she have? She couldn’t let the opportunity slip through her fingers.

Do you want the interview? His matter-of-fact tone made it clear she occupied the beggar’s seat in this discussion.

Of course I do.

Excellent. She could hear a smile in his voice. Bring a recorder, and you can have your interview after the party. I hope you like to dance.

No, I don’t dance.

Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.

She bit back a curse. She’d lost complete control of this conversation. Mechanically, she found herself agreeing to meet him at the party, anxious to secure her interview before Celeb beat her to it. Randy wouldn’t forgive her for it. She wouldn’t forgive herself, either.

Oh, by the way, if you’re available and looking, wear red. Otherwise, the dress code is white.

With those parting words, he ended the call.

She stared at her phone screen, unable to believe she’d allowed him to dominate the conversation. Now she’d talked herself into the Valentine’s Day pit of Hell. She couldn’t decide who to blame more: Dufie, for upsetting her by digging up the past, or Randy, for rattling her with his thinly veiled threat. Usually, she could muster enough resolve to sidestep emotional traps like those. However, today being Valentine’s Day, emotionally, she was at her weakest.

Drat.

LORD MCKENZIE HAD A knack for reading people, detecting subtle hints others might miss. He could even pick up signals over a phone line, like the slight catching of Chantelle Sah’s breath when he’d answered the call. It had been all he’d needed to know his plan would work. Now, if he just played his cards right, he could kill two birds with one stone.

As he placed the mobile phone on his desk, his gaze caught the latest copy of Odopa magazine, which lay next to the metallic letter tray where he’d laid it two weeks before. He still hadn’t found time to read it.

Picking it up, he paused on ‘Contents’ long enough to find the page number for Chantelle’s piece. He flipped over to it. Her photo caught his interest, as it always did. Thick shoulder-length hair framing a heart-shaped face and a smile that could steal a person’s breath. She stared straight into the camera with confidence shining through mischievous hazel eyes. Her composed expression made you want to hear what she had to say whether on paper or in the sultry voice he’d have the pleasure of hearing again tonight.

He’d always wanted to meet her since first reading an article of hers a couple of years back. He had bought every copy of Odopa for two years running because of her. When Randy Brobbey, the editor, his old schoolmate, had approached him about an exclusive, he’d readily agreed.

Plus, Chantelle was the only reporter he trusted to write an article which would begin to rectify the general impression of him perpetuated by the tabloids. A perception which, to be fair, he hadn’t done a thing to dissuade. Frankly, he’d thought it funny, bordering on ridiculous, the first time he’d earned the label of playboy tycoon. Granted, he didn’t go out on more than a few dates with any woman, and he’d never left any of them under the illusion of their liaison being anything more than temporary.

However, he didn’t play women. Something had to be fundamentally wrong with a man who pursued multiple women simultaneously. He treated his women well, and their break-ups were amicable.

Until one of his exes—he wasn’t even sure he could call her that, considering they’d only been together two weeks—had done an exposé for Celeb magazine, based mostly on twisted truths and partly on falsehoods. Initially, he’d been pissed. He had even considered his lawyer’s advice to take legal action, but he couldn’t possibly sue every single paper for any untruths they printed about him. He’d eventually decided not to dignify any of them with a response.

He’d also refused to let those stories dictate his actions, so he’d maintained his social calendar, fully expecting it to blow over. Instead, the story had domino-ed out of control with more women coming forward with their own stories, and the labelling had continued: heartbreaker, lady killer, lover and leaver, Lothario McKenzie.

It wasn’t his first experience of being called names, though. In secondary school, he’d been a lanky boy. Being the younger brother of the most popular guy in school had just made him more visible. As the butt of jokes for anything from his name to his physique, many of which had been instigated by his own brother, he’d had to develop a thick skin.

So the labels didn’t bother him, but he drew the line when the public opinion of him threatened his company’s chances at winning what would be their biggest project ever.

Enter Chantelle.

He should have been thinking about their upcoming meeting in a purely professional sense.

He wasn’t.

Staring once again at her picture, he thought about her voice. It sounded the way he’d imagined, a little breathy and way too sexy for her own good. From the tone of her articles, he knew she was a strong-minded, passionate woman with a healthy dose of wit. Most men would be intimidated by that combination, but he wasn’t most men.

And he wanted her.

He checked the time. Fifteen minutes until his next engagement. Good.

He’d barely settled to read the article when his phone rang. Reluctantly, he set down the magazine. At this rate, he’d never get to it, and for some reason, he wanted to read it before meeting Chantelle tonight.

He hit the answer button without checking the caller ID, intending to get rid of the caller quickly.

Hello.

Hey, lover boy. Guess who’s returning to town in time for the Golden Stool Awards.

Lord grimaced. Deconte. Another perception he needed to fix.

You?

Her claim-to-fame girlish laughter carried over surprisingly clearly for an international call. Turns out we’re wrapping up earlier than planned, so I can make it. Are we still on?

I’m a man of my word, Deconte.

Yes, you are. A brief silence followed. You realise, though, that’ll take us to ten weeks, right?

About that—

She didn’t let him complete the sentence. You want to end things.

One thing he loved about Deconte: like him, she didn’t mince words.

This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? A short silence followed his question. Deconte?

You’re right. She tried to sound upbeat, but he caught the reluctance in her voice.

It was never supposed to go on for this long. If the truth comes out—

I know, but I’m hoping to avoid any negative publicity before the release of my upcoming movie, and being in a stable relationship helps. She hesitated. If I’m correct, you need it, too.

She had a point. If McKenzie Contractors hoped to win the pitch they were participating in, he couldn’t afford a scandal, either; particularly since the papers only seemed interested in his love life. Much to his father’s dismay. His jaw clenched as he remembered the many conversations he’d had with his old man on the issue.

Just another two weeks until my movie comes out?

He released a breath, weighing the options.

Wait, Deconte said. Have you met someone?

His gaze darted to Chantelle’s headshot, and he smiled. I’m about to.

Chapter 2

STARS TWINKLED IN THE dark evening sky as Chantelle made her way to the club, Afrodite, in her Honda Civic. Grateful to Lord for letting her use the VIP entrance, she drove past the line-up of cars struggling to find a parking space. An attendant directed her to park.

After shooting Lord a text message about her arrival, she waited a minute, then got out. She drew in a deep breath to stem the nerves jangling in her stomach. Wherever Lord McKenzie went, cameras tended to follow. The only difference was she would be his trophy girlfriend in Graphic Showbiz tomorrow. Sadly, being slender and a shade over five-nine, she probably looked the part, too.

To her discredit, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after her fumbling mess of a phone conversation earlier. While putting together an exhaustive Q&A, rehearsing the interview, and reviewing old articles about him, she’d made lengthy pauses on his photos. The memory of his deep voice still played havoc on her usually composed demeanour.

Just as she reached the door, he walked out, six-feet-two-inches of shameless masculine beauty and sex appeal, all hard planes, chiselled grooves, and brushstrokes of perfection. The pictures failed to do him justice. He extended his hand and flashed a hundred-watter, rendering her momentarily speechless. Thank goodness he didn’t wait for her to speak first.

Hi, Chantelle Sah. Thanks for coming. He gave her a once-over, not bothering to be discreet.

Instead of taking offense, her heartbeat faltered under his appreciative scrutiny.

Thank you for inviting me, Mr. McKenzie. She congratulated herself when her voice came out completely in-control and professional.

When she took his hand, though, the control seemed to surrender to his magnetic pull. The pictures really didn’t do him justice. Lord McKenzie wasn’t just handsome—he also had a certain intangible quality which drew a person in like a spell.

Loud music hit them as soon as they entered. Though he never released her hand, he stopped every few seconds to say hello, to people, hugging many of them and introducing her as if he wanted everyone to know they were together.

She shook away the thought. Absurd. Why did he bother, anyway? They weren’t friends or anything. In fact, aside from a thank-you note she intended to send the next day, they wouldn’t as much as run into each other again.

So why did it bother her to note how the females he hugged clung to him for as long as they could? A few went to the extent of asking if she was his new girlfriend, with pointed looks in her direction suggesting how disappointed they’d be if she were indeed his new squeeze. She snorted. Hardly.

He took her straight to the dance floor and fell in step with the beat. Seeing no other option, she followed suit. He was an amazing dancer, his movements fluid, almost magical. She forced herself not to stop and admire.

After a while, he leaned in. I thought you didn’t know how to dance.

So he’d