Falling For My Husband (British Billionaires) Page 2
I truly doubted that, really, because a man would be blind not to see her gentle beauty. One day, she would find her fire, and when she did, she would be fatal to any man.
Just like that, we made a silent pact; one where we would carry through Richard’s wishes.
Five days after I had arrived in St. Lucia, Stella and I took our vows in a tiny chapel on the estate grounds. I wasn’t even fazed when I was declared married, though Stella repeatedly apologized for being such a nuisance to my life.
She truly didn’t need to because I welcomed her nuisance. She might not have known it then, however I was more than happy to help. Even though I had only met Stella once before this whole thing happened, I had spent a great deal of time with her parents when they visited Richard in Cambridge. After my Christmas visit, her parents treated me like one of theirs and, for that, I would forever be truly grateful. It might sound odd, but I considered Ella and Richie von Berg like parents. Those two truly were the best couple I had ever met and, when they’d died, I mourned for months alongside Richard.
Yes, Stella might not be aware, but in my heart, her family had become my family long ago. This marriage had merely made that feeling more of a reality.
~C~
Life had made me see how helpless a mere mortal was against forces that were far greater than any of us; their strength and capacity were boundless, immeasurable. When those forces finally chose someone’s fate, one would always remember the battle because it was a battle where one’s survival was uncertain. It could leave rancid, ugliness in its wake as it slowly suctioned you down, cruelly breaking piece after piece of your armor until you were fully bare. From there it would lead you to unchartered territory, drawing you to the place where it had all begun. The circle of life would then be complete.
Everything we had was temporary. The joys of love and the gutting pain were a treasured experience that would be all too brief.
Your heartbeat, your thoughts, your love, your strength, your faith and your fight were all quintessential crumbs that merely led you to a path which paved the way to the battleground.
There would be countless times where life would test our limits, strength, power and perseverance. Most of us learned from these small skirmishes, but those were all simply calculated steps to prepare us for the grandest battle of all; that one fight where everything was all on the line. It wouldn’t ask kindly for permission to oppose you in an all or nothing duel; no, it would demand it of you. A duel where we had everything to lose and it had the power to gain an incredible advantage.
It would be an unforgettable battle. The fight of your life. A head-on assault which would riddle you with scars, marring you deeply. Although many had survived it, they would never be the same again.
Sadly, my friend didn’t survive the attack when it came for him.
Richard passed away on a Thursday morning—two weeks after the wedding—at the young age of twenty-five.
A few of his staff commented that Richard probably needed to see his sister secured before finally giving in to the relentless demand of the cancer; a condition that his frail body could barely register before it had eventually taken over, running him into the ground and ultimately claiming his life.
Not only was it heartbreaking to bury my best friend, but it was also wretched to see his sister softly sob as she tried to hold her tears at bay during the burial. Stella von Berg, the last of the direct heirs to the von Berg inheritance. A young, impressionable, eighteen-year-old heiress that held an insurmountable amount of money. Richard’s passing was kept private—for now—however once the news spread that he had died, the vultures would flock in droves.
Glancing at Stella’s pained state, it was obvious that she could easily be drawn in with sweet words, a fake sense of security and the comfort that any stable, functioning man could easily provide. She would be, undoubtedly, one of the top targets to con and extort money from.
Yes, now I truly saw how vulnerable she’d be without me in the background.
Richard had been right in making the decision to wait until she was at the age of twenty-six to release half of her estate and allow her to be a free woman to marry of her choosing. Until then, she’d have me.
I wouldn’t limit her when it came to her dating life because I truly believed a woman should learn how cruel and selfish men could be. So that when she finally married one day, she’d know she found the best man standing beside her. A man who would protect her from harm, at all costs. A man who would love her the way her mother was loved by her father. Most of all, a man who would appreciate her wholeheartedly, no holds barred, because he only had eyes for her and no one else.
Quietly, I moved towards her sullen body, wrapping an arm around her to let her know that I was here for her even though she might consider me a stranger. Her crystal grey eyes were awash with fresh tears when I crooked her neck to face me and then softly kissed her warm forehead.
“Don’t ever think you’re alone,” I murmured tenderly. “I’m family, too.”
Little did she know that she was the only family left for me.
Chapter 2
Stella
Present
“What’s with the sour puss expression?” Mark eyed me with mock concern.
How many times did I have to go through this humiliating experience in one lifetime? “Not today, I beg of you. I haven’t slept yet.” I slid on the opposite chair, gracelessly as ever, before I took a careful sip of my coffee. Lucia and I shared an apartment where Mark, most of the time, crashed because he loved to mess with our lives.
“What gives?” Mark pressed on, knowing my embarrassment had doubled by my reddening cheeks.
“Derek dumped me. He said waiting on me was taking forever. A year with fringe, semi-benefits isn’t all that bad, is it?”
“No, but we’re men and we love to own everything we touch in its entirety.” Mark winked at me before he bit into his buttered toast, washing it down with his cappuccino before adding to my misery. “Why don’t you take care of the problem with a dildo? Or better yet, you’re already married; why not make the very man himself do the bloody deed?”
Good question, but the thought of asking the infamous playboy, who I barely knew, was stupefying. “It’s not real, Mark! Besides, I don’t think Callum goes for the virginal type. I mean, I’m experienced, but not as a whole, you know?” In Callum’s eyes, I was probably laughable. He didn’t do women like me—ever. The whole of England knew that.
Mark smirked, brown eyes dancing with amusement. “Callum likes his ladies a tad blatant. Say, on the experimental side? I do admire the man. One of these days, you should introduce us. I want the inside digs as to where he gets those captivating felines he usually toys about with.”
Rolling my eyes, I stole the tiny bit of toast he had left before slipping it inside my mouth. “Shut up. You have the hots for Lucia, you just have to admit to it,” I muttered, shaking my head at the stubborn fool I’d known since I moved to England three years ago.
I had been born in England, however my family moved to St. Lucia when I was two when my father purchased a sprawling estate for his surprise present to my mother on their wedding anniversary. It was my favorite place on earth. I had been saddened when I had to leave my home, but once a year I went back to remember what life used to be like. What life had resembled before my family was taken away from me. As much as I loved living in London, St. Lucia would always be my home.
Being British, I had always had an accent that spoke of that heritage, however my accent had a slightly different tone to it. Some couldn’t really pinpoint what the difference was and I always ended up saying it was Australian. I did sound similar to one and I loved that so much, but now I was starting to sound like a proper Brit. Each time I caught myself, I was reminded of my family.
I was alone. If not for my friends, I really would have no one.
My reverie was broken, when I heard Lucia muttering about some project that was due today before she e
ntered the kitchen. “Mark, get me coffee.”
Mark glared at her, yet did it anyways. Lucia was Her Highness when Mark was around. Their dynamics were odd, but it worked perfectly well for them.
“I think you two should have sex and get it over and done with,” I murmured, smiling.
“Oh, shut it! Mark is gay. Did you not know?” Lucia raised her brow.
“Coffee.” Mark slid the mug toward Lucia. “How many times do I have to emphasize the fact that I am not gay? In fact, I had the most gorgeous Italian in my arms last night and mind you, she loved every second of it.” The man had a thing for Italian women, hence his major crush on Lucia.
“I would love to meet her.” I grinned towards a still Lucia. “What do you think, Lu?”
Her gorgeous, tan face and green eyes masked the fakest of happy smiles. “Sure. Bring her over. I would love to meet one of Mark’s shag buddies.”
I hid back a smile because she was stung and failing at hiding the fact.
Mark eventually left when I announced that I was going to get ready for work. I went in early and left a little early. Lucia, however, went to work late and didn’t leave the office until dark.
We worked great and we balanced each other quite well. If a friend could be a soul mate, Lucia would be it for me. Actually, I suppose I would call her my soul-sister at this point.
The Italian knockout kept me sane.
After an hour, I was striding towards our office building that was located in St. James Square.
Alec, Mark’s older brother, called in to see if I wanted to join him for lunch, so I agreed to meet him at our usual favorite. It was a cozy, French gem of a patisserie that served breakfast all day long. Not to mention, the treasures the place produced were my idea of Heaven on earth.
After working as his intern for over three years, Alec and I had gotten close. At first, he was a total ass because, let’s face it, he was doing his baby brother a favor by hiring us, however that didn’t mean he wanted or needed Lucia’s or my help.
Alec’s brashness ebbed away as we worked closely together almost on a daily basis and proved myself on every task I was given. Where my friendship with Mark was all jokes with easy laughs, parties and the mandatory BFF heart-to-heart once every six months, my friendship with Alec, on the other hand, was on a much more mature level. I appreciated his honest opinions if I needed consulting with any of the projects I worked on.
Where Mark had the boyish good looks, Alec was charming, polished and looked like he had stepped out of a designer suit advertisement. Okay, so I wasn’t immune to his looks. It was a harmless crush, one I kept to myself.
We were in the middle of our lunch when my phone vibrated on the table.
Callum: Are you busy this afternoon?
Callum, texting me during lunch, let alone texting me at all, was odd.
My interest piqued, I quickly typed away on my screen.
Me: It’s manageable. What’s up?
I was about to place it down when it beeped again.
Callum: I have something important to discuss with you. What time are you free?
Okay, now I was beyond curious and slightly alarmed.
Me: I’m actually having lunch somewhere close to your office. Will you be available to talk, say in an hour? I can drop by.
As expected, my phone received his reply in a flash.
Callum: I’ll make time. See you then.
What was so important that he needed to contact me? If there were any financial troubles when it came to my money, he usually took care of it immediately. Was it about a new business venture to invest in? Quite possibly. The last time he contacted me was to talk about putting twenty-five percent of my inheritance in the technology sector. Or maybe it was more serious? I sure hoped not.
Even though I barely saw Callum, he was the only person that was a connection to my past. With him, I got to be reminded of good memories with my brother. Even if we weren’t close, I cared for him.
So whatever was plaguing him to prompt a visit to his office, I prayed to God that it wasn’t anything serious because the last time someone told me that they had something important to discuss with me, my brother told me he was dying.
My stomach churned as the seconds ticked away. I had better get to Callum’s office around St. Paul’s without puking my way into his polished, swanky building.
Chapter 3
Stella
“Mr. Kensington is expecting me. My name’s Stella von Berg,” I gave my name to the receptionist. She then gave me directions as to where to find the private lift.
“Peter will be there to greet you,” she added before bidding me a good day.
Murmuring my thanks, I proceeded to follow her directions without a problem. Peter was a bulky Irish man who had big, mean, green eyes. I suppose it was because of the scowl he was wearing, which seemed as though it was there on a permanent basis. Whatever the case, Peter didn’t waste time with chitchats. He simply kept to himself while I nervously dwelled on my thoughts about what the meeting with Callum might pertain to.
Once the lift halted to a stop, the metallic doors quietly opened to the top floor where Peter gave me a quick nod and then pressed the button to return to the lobby.
The floor was bright from the light brought in by the sun. It seemed that the theme on this floor was white and bright because it sure as hell was blinding for the few seconds it took my eyes to adjust.
Moving forward, I noticed there was an older woman coming out of one of the smoked glass doors. She immediately greeted me with a smile. “Miss von Berg, I’m Eleanor. Mr. Kensington is on a call, but he insists that you go ahead and join him in his office whilst on it. I did try to warn him that it’s rather disrespectful, but who am I to say, really? I’m just his assistant.”
I liked this Eleanor. She had spunk. “Thank you, Eleanor. I don’t mind, really. Callum’s an old, family friend, so you shouldn’t worry.”
“Yes, dear. I did meet your brother Richard once. It’s unfortunate that the Lord took him away from us at a very young age.”
She had? I thought Callum took over his maternal grandfather’s business after he died, which was about eight months after Richard’s passing. I didn’t have to wonder at that for long, though, because Eleanor easily supplied me with answers.
“Callum brought his friend here once to meet his grandfather. I’ve been working here since I was eighteen and now I’m in my fifties, therefore I know quite a bit about our little Callum here.” Eleanor proceeded to walk towards Callum’s office as she explained herself. Once we reached it, she reached for my hand and patted it. “I’m sure your brother is glad that you and Callum found each other. Give him time, he’ll eventually grow up. He’ll grow out of his playthings soon, just you wait.” Eleanor didn’t give me chance to correct her. She simply winked and left me to my own devices.
I didn’t know what was more surprising, the thought of her insinuating that something was going on between Callum and I or that she treated the man like a little child. One thing was for sure, though, it was funny to have a serious businessman like Callum paired with his grandfather’s assistant who did not take him seriously.
However, I didn’t have to see the two interact to know that they had a good relationship. Somehow, it warmed me to know that he had someone like Eleanor to brighten up his day.
Since everyone was being all undaunted by normal civilities here, I proceeded to open his door without bothering to knock. His office was the total opposite of the floor that contained it; it was dark and the only light in the room surrounded the boss, who was pretty engrossed in a heated conversation, complete with a deep scowl on his face, too.
I wasn’t sure what to do, or maybe I simply needed a valid excuse to ogle at his dark, sexiness, so I paused and stared at him awhile, hoping that he’d notice I had entered his office.
His roguish handsomeness was one of the main things that attracted people to him. Callum commanded attention whether he was in a
suit or in his ripped jeans and leather jacket; a naughty playboy that didn’t do the whole pompous spiel, instead he did his own thing. Scandal rags adored his antics because he didn’t care if the media portrayed him to be a less than angelic man.
Callum Kensington was pure sin. When you were around him, you were bound to be a sinner… his sinner. The rumors of his stud abilities and capabilities were monumental and quite documented. Some of the women would make ghastly confessions of what a night with Callum entailed for a fee. Did he care? No, he simply went on as if nothing had happened. Did that stop him from engaging with models, actresses, hangers-on and climbers? No. In fact, he showed it off more.
For three years, I followed his life through those headlines. For the first year, I had cringed a lot after reading the stories being printed about him. Now, I didn’t even bat an eyelash because, once you read one scandal, you had read them all. Married women? Check. Bar fights? Check, check. Having three girlfriends at a time? Triple check.
None of those things mattered, though, because I knew—deep down—Callum was a good man. Sure, maybe he was going through some rough times, didn’t we all?
In some ways, I did admire his audacious personality. He was the true sinner; unapologetic, charismatic, sharp-minded and he had the deadliest smirk a man could ever sport.
My heart jumped in my throat when his eyes lifted and connected to mine. For a second there, I thought I had been caught gawking at him because his eyes seemed to know too much when they met mine. My lungs finally started functioning again when he gave me a welcoming smile.
Mother hell, this man should be arrested for making me feel guilty… of what exactly? Who the heck knew? All of my hard work in learning how to compose myself whilst he was around, somehow slid off and I was having a tough time garnering it back.
How long had it been since I had seen him last? I thought back and realized that it had been a little over a month ago, when I had been having dinner with Lucia and Mark. He was there, along with two women, enjoying a meal. He didn’t see me, but I found myself glancing his way for most of the evening. I had seen the playboy in action and I wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but I somehow continued to find him mesmerizing. Magnetic.