Mr. Knightsbridge (The Mister 1)

“I’m done with being polite to people who hurt me.” I exhaled as I stared out of the window. London had so many amazing things to offer. Life had so much to grab. I wasn’t willing to sit by anymore. “Do you mind if we turn the air conditioning down and open the window?”

“Not at all,” he said, pressing a button on the steering wheel. The fans stopped whirring and the windows opened.

“That’s better,” I said.

He glanced at me and grinned as if he knew something I didn’t.

“What?” I asked, wanting to be in on the secret, too.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Later.”

“We’re going to talk about me wanting the window open later?”

He paused as if he was considering whether he was going to elaborate. He nodded. “Later. Let’s do dinner. Then after that, our deal is done.”

Later felt like a long way away.

We passed endless streets of wrought-iron railings. Gazing out the window, I wanted to get behind them and discover what was inside. I couldn’t wait to get back to designing. To sourcing materials, researching suppliers. “I resigned this week,” I announced as we continued to drive toward Henry’s townhouse.

“Permanently?” he asked.

“Yeah. Handed my notice in on Tuesday.”

“That’s amazing, Stella. How do you feel?”

Warmth settled in my belly at his enthusiasm. “Nervous but relieved, I think. I don’t have many savings, but the flat is on the market and there are five viewings set up for this weekend. I’m hoping I can use the equity to live while I’m getting back on my feet.”

“You’re going to focus solely on interior design?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know how I stayed doing recruitment for as long as I did.”

“So you’re figuring out what you want and going for it,” he said, almost to himself. “Good for you.”

With every word I’d spoken, Beck’s grin got bigger and bigger. Was he just happy for me? Was that how this worked? I wanted to dip inside his brain and figure out what he was thinking. Was he seeing us as colleagues, friends, boss and employee? Or did he want me to join his little black book of women that he leafed through whenever he wanted company?

I didn’t like any of those options.

“I know you said later, Beck. But—”

“Here we are,” he said, pulling into a gated driveway. “They must have been expecting us.”

“Can we just have five minutes before we go in?”

“Let’s get this Henry thing done. And then everything after that’s real. If it hasn’t been already.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, he’d switched the engine off and climbed out of the car.

Everything after this dinner was real? How much had he been pretending?

Later better bloody hurry up.

Thirty-Six

Beck

I’d had the builders work overnight to make sure everything was ready. I’d never had to talk about my feelings, and I wasn’t convinced that me just talking was going to change her mind. I wanted something tangible I could show Stella—to demonstrate how I felt.

Stella was a once-in-a-lifetime woman and this was my one chance to convince her I was the man for her. I had to get it right.