Seduced By The British Billionaire (Billionaire BWWM BBW Romance Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter6

Amber and Stephan took a cab home, obviously too under the influence to drive anywhere. It was New York City, anyways. Taxi cabs were the most popular forms of transportation in her area. On the way over, she eyed the desirable male with devilish intent. Tonight would be no strings attached. Just the release of the strenuous desires she held bottled up within her. Perhaps through him she could find a relief somewhere deep inside. It hurt her even drunk to think about Charles. About how erotic he was, the way he had kissed her and his smell. Goodness, she couldn’t forget his scent. It was heaven’s cologne to her.

Upon arriving at her apartment, she almost tripped getting out of the car. Stephan reached and caught her, a little less drunk than herself. She was a light weight and it really didn’t take much to get her going. Fixing her dress, she waited for him to get out of the car. He paid the cab driver, and then walked with her up the stairs and into the main building. As they passed her neighbors, she spied a man standing up the hall. He looked a lot like Charles, even dressed similarly. In his hands was a bouquet of red roses.

She froze in her step, almost making Stephan bump into her. “Shit.” she hissed. Straining her eyes she looked at the male with his head bent to his phone. He hadn’t seen her yet. It was Charles. He sported the same colored watch on his wrist that he usually wore. A flood of emotions washed over her, making her question the male that was with her. She couldn’t get over the fact that she wanted Charles more than anything. She wanted his smile directed towards her, and his hand to gingerly caressing her. She wanted his sex, and the passionate kisses he had once rained down upon her. But another emotion blocked the need within her. It was so hard for her to focus after having drunk so much. She couldn’t make up her mind as to what she wanted to do. All she knew was, Stephan was in the way of her happiness at the moment.

Charles had brought her flowers. She couldn’t stop staring at them. Turning to Stephan, she suddenly didn’t want him anymore. She looked into his smoky dark eyes, which were now glazed over from the strong liquor. “Stephan,” she managed to whisper.

He inclined his ear, reaching out to touch her lips with his finger. She smacked it away, suddenly turned off by him. What was she thinking? “I don’t feel well.” She lied, hugging her stomach as if she were going to puke.

He grimaced. “Are you okay?” He appeared genuinely concerned.

Nodding in the middle of the act, she requested. “I’ll call you later. I think I drank too much. I need to lie down.”

He didn’t seem to like that. “I didn’t come all the way out here for nothing.” He reminded her. He stared down at her half exposed cleavage, greed masking his expression.

“I know and I’m sorry.” she crinkled her forehead to accentuate the lie. “But I don’t feel well enough tonight. I’ll call you.” Forcing a smile she looked over her shoulder instantly to see if Charles was looking. He wasn’t yet. Thank goodness!

Stephan’s entire countenance changed on the turn of a dime. “I don’t fucking think so.” He scowled, advancing towards her menacingly.

The hallway was lowly lit at this time of night so it didn’t matter what went on. No one would care. This was New York, anyways. Everyone managed to mind their own business unless there were gunshots. And any bullet holes that ever scarred the cream colored walls were quickly caulked over and freshly painted.

Reaching out a hand to grab her wrist, she winced from the pain of his grip. “Let go of me.” She protested, struggling to pull back from his iron hold.

“She said let her go.” Familiar honey tones permeated the void. They were dauntingly stern.

Amber peered up at Stephan, her heart eradicating in her chest. His aggressive stance didn’t change.

He spat. “Nobody asked you gringo, so move along and mind your own business.”

“I’m already involved. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Charles crossed his arms. He firmly planted his feet, standing tall and strong.

Stephan reached a hand to his back pocket and produced a small switchblade, pointing it threateningly towards Charles, he play-stabbed the air. “I said move along.”

Amber’s stomach began to twist when the steel glint came into view. Who the hell did she bring home with her, a Spanish Guerrilla? Out of all the stupid decisions she had made in her life, this perhaps was the worst.

Looking Stephan in the eyes, she begged him softly. “Don’t do this. Just let me go and you can go home. We can forget about this.” Her entire body shook and trembled beneath his grip. Whether or not she was drunk, she still knew fear, even though it was less prominent than it may have been another time.

Contemplation creased his brows for a second. He rubbed his jaw out of frustration. The power he had so demonstrated just seconds earlier was waning out of his control. He didn’t seem to like that one bit. Charles didn’t exactly wait for Stephan to act. Ex-military and accustomed to these kinds of situations, he lunged towards Stephan. Unprepared, Stephan slashed towards him with the knife, barely missing as his assailant dodged to the left. Twisting around, Charles grabbed his wrist and easily dislodged the knife.

Stephan stared in horror. Pain surged through him from the audible cracks of his own breaking wrists. He yelled to an unmerciful Charles, “When a woman tells you to let her go, you fucking do that! Remember that!” Charles boomed with anger, rage exuding from his pores. His protective nature had taken over completely, masking him into someone totally different.

Staring in utter admiration, Amber watched the scene play out. Stephan let go of her hand just in time as it began to go numb. Rubbing her wrist she stepped back from the two quarrelsome males. Her eyes darted at the doorway of her neighbors, hoping no one would pay attention to the commotion. Of course the fact that no one even bothered to care made her suddenly feel very unsafe in her own home. What was this city coming to? She could be getting raped right there and no one would give it a second thought.

Her pocket vibrated, her phone ringing the familiar Melanie ring-tone. Looking at the men who were cursing back words at each other, Charles releasing the demon onto Stephan, she decided to answer it real quick.

Pressing the green talk button, she muttered, “What do you want?” She posed the question in hopes to shorten the conversation.

Melanie was seriously slurring her words. “You get home okay girl? If you’re in the middle of doing that sexy hunk over there, I’ll leave you two alone.” Yes, she went there. Melanie always went there. She was a little horn dog. It was horrible. Money, fame and sex were the main three things she thought about in that sassy head of hers.

“Everything’s good. Night.” Amber hushed her friend. Besides, how drunk she was her friend would be going to bed real soon and waking up with a huge hangover the next day. Sucked for her, but it wasn’t Amber’s problem.

Charles finally let his captive go, howling in pain. There was an understanding between the two now. Stephan was headed towards the door cradling his injury like a baby. He uttered curses in low barely audible tones as Charles watched him leave.

“Good riddance. I should’ve broken more than that.” He growled while smoothing the creases in his shirt. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, unsure as how to act or feel at the moment. She wanted to tell him thank you, fall in his arms and everything would be okay. But the stubbornness of her previous convictions drilled through her thick skull. She couldn’t tell which was stronger, her feelings of doubt towards him or the fact that she hated him for his deceitfulness.

“I’m sorry.” He walked towards her, closing the distance between them.

She hunched within herself into the deepened chasms of her heart. Could she turn off the stinging hurt, or numb the ache of desire she so desperately tried to bury?

He continued. “I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning but I’d like to start doing that now.” He looked for her approval, reading her body language for a sign that he was allowed to pursue it further.

She didn’t say anything. She found herself rubbing her arm uncomfortably, waiting for him to keep talking. She wanted him to apologize. She wanted him to make everything alright. But the fact that he was married didn’t seem to promise a whole lot between the two. If anything, he shouldn’t even be talking to her right now, let alone bringing her flowers. She knew he had set them by her door.

He took a heavy breath and then exhaled before bringing everything to bear. “I’m sorry for everything, Amber. When I met you, I couldn’t help but notice how attractive you are. You’re god damn gorgeous. I know it may seem shallow, but now that I’ve spent time with you, I can’t help but see the beautiful person you are inside. I’ve hurt you, taken advantage of you and lied to you. All three of those are inexcusable.” He shifted nervously, pulling the will within himself to get what he needed to say out. “I didn’t tell you that I am married because I figured it wouldn’t make a difference.”

Amber started to cut in when he held his hand up. “Please.” He requested. “Let me finish everything before you say anything. If you don’t like what I have to say, then I will leave and let you be.”

“A couple years ago I was diagnosed with lung disease. They told me there was a chance for a lung transplant but seeing as I have O blood type, the odds of me getting one are close to none. I’ve been living with the fact that I am dying for a while now, and I’ve come to terms with it.” His eyes glazed over with raw emotion, his throat running dry. He coughed momentarily before looking up.

She could see how weak he truly was now beneath the façade he displayed. Her heart sank at the news as she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “There’s still is a chance. Any day my phone could go off.” He gruffly informed her. “And it could be a call from the hospital saying they have organs for me. But unless that day comes, I need to live my life out in full as if every day were my last. I’m living on borrowed time here. Because the rest of my body is so healthy, I’m progressing rather slowly. But sooner or later, I won’t be able to do the things that I want to.” His fists curled tightly as he fought the will to let her see his frailty in full. It was an uncomfortable thing for him to open up like that but she could see that he needed to do this as much as she needed to hear it.

“Go on.” She encouraged, her heart almost aching doubly now at the prospects of losing him to such a battle.

He smiled now, happy that she at least accepted some of the words he so carefully let out.

“I got married way too young.” He confessed, almost hanging his head in shame. “My wife, don’t get me wrong, is beautiful and caring. But there isn’t anything left between us except for the wealth that glues us together. We have been hovering over a divorce for some time now but she hasn’t fully accepted this fact. She can’t let go. I haven’t forced anything because I didn’t want to hurt her. But ever since I’ve met you, I can’t help but wish I had gone about everything different.”

He proceeded to explain his history in a thoroughly strategic manner. “When we got married we were new money at the time. I had inherited my company from my uncle who passed away, leaving me billions of pounds in assets and inheritance. I figured I was in love and wanted to take care of Liv, so we got married and rushed into it too fast. I wish we hadn’t.” He sighed, gesturing his palms up helplessly. “I’ve had to live with all of my decisions whether good or bad.”

Everything flooding towards her at once was overwhelming. Figuring it would be better to fully talk somewhere else, she gestured towards the door. “Come inside,” she invited. “We can talk over a cup of tea.” Her smile was evident that she was accepting him despite the obvious flaws to his nature.

They went inside and she prepared the tea. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch as she brought the steaming cups to the small familiar coffee table.

“Did you just do that?” He pointed to the painting she had been laboring over earlier.

She nodded, rather shamefully. “I paint when I’m stressed.” She admitted, sitting next to him.

He relaxed a little and admired her work. “I never did tell you what I do for a living, did I?”

Flipping her hair back from her ebony skin, she shook her head. “We never even got that acquainted with each other. I feel as if we are doing everything backwards.” She volunteered.

He agreed, taking a sip of tea and then wincing as it singed his lips from the heat. “If I may, I would like to start over,” he suggested. “Can I do that?”