Mr. Knightsbridge (The Mister 1)

“Oh, she certainly did,” Jo replied for me. “He’s over there by the bar. The tall, good-looking one.”

I couldn’t help but grin at Jo’s description as we all looked to the bar. There was no doubt Beck was tall. And good looking. A description that didn’t do him justice. He was one of those men that commanded a double take when you passed him on the street. He was pretty enough to look like a male model but the way he carried off that suit—or any of the suits I’d seen him in—gave him power.

The three of us were staring as he started back, carrying an ice bucket and glasses. I locked eyes with him and the tightness in my jaw disappeared. There was something about him that made it feel like I’d known him forever. He grinned and it seemed so genuine that I felt it from deep in my bones to the tips of my fingers.

“Oh wow, that’s the look of love,” Jo said from beside me.

If only she knew.

“Ladie

s,” he said as he placed the ice bucket on the table.

“This is Karen,” I said, remembering my manners this time. “She’s the bride-to-be.”

I wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t kiss Karen like he had Jo. Instead he offered her his hand. “Beck Wilde. Nice to meet you.”

“Dom Perignon?” Jo asked as she twisted the bottle around to reveal the label.

“Yes, I got them to go and get us a bottle.” He began to pour the alcohol into the glasses. “It’s kind of our drink.”

“Your drink?” Karen asked.

“We had it on our first date,” Beck replied. “I was trying to impress this beautiful woman.” He handed me a glass and placed a kiss on my cheek. Christ, this guy was good at faking it. “Not an easy thing to do,” he continued. “But hopefully I’ve won her over.”

“How did you two meet?” Karen asked.

“Work,” I mumbled and took a sip of my drink.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re a recruitment consultant?”

Beck chuckled. “No. I’d be terrible at that job. You have to be nice to all your clients and all the candidates. Stella is doing the design on one of my buildings.”

“Really?” Karen and Jo both asked in unison.

“I thought you’d given up on the interior designer thing?” Karen asked, her mouth a little pinched.

Thing? It wasn’t a thing or a hobby. I’d loved the job. I’d missed it. “Nope. I’ve just been doing bits on the side.”

“Which is insane,” Beck said. “You really need to be making the most of your talent.” He slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me toward him. The heat of his body coated me like armor, his hand holding me firmly in place as if it were a shield.

“You would say that,” I replied, trying to continue our charade. He was so freaking good at this, I needed to step up.

“I say it because it’s true,” he said and turned to Karen and Jo. “You know how modest Stella is. She never believes how good she is at anything.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he slid his hand up my back. For a second, I could almost believe he meant it.

My insides began to melt like ice cream in the sun.

But of course, he didn’t mean it. It was all just for show.

“I knew I was going to have to ask her out the moment we met, but Stella took some convincing.”

I glanced at Karen and Jo to see if they were buying this. Both of them were focused on Beck, as if he were conjuring up white rabbits out of the ice bucket. If how he was being tonight was any indication of how he was with his girlfriends, I didn’t understand how he was still single. He was funny, confident, attentive, and generous.

“You wore me down,” I replied.

He grinned as if we were sharing an inside joke that no one else knew about. “You drive a hard bargain.”