Mr. Knightsbridge – The Mister Read online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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“The winner’s design was inspiring in so many ways. I love the way it incorporates the ethereal beauty of the Finnish landscape without compromising on the design.”

That sounded promising. She could be talking about Daniels & Co, but because I hadn’t seen the other finalists, perhaps it could apply to them as well.

“And the quality of the stones and settings was outstanding.”

I imagined she’d say that about whoever won.

“But I also loved how there were small references to my mother’s wedding jewelry.” She paused and the breath in my chest turned solid, rendering me entirely still. “The winner is Daniels & Co.”

The corners of my mouth twitched, the rock beneath my ribcage dissolved and I released the breath I’d been holding. I glanced at my brother, who was on his feet, his arms in the air, cheering. His wife was beaming as if she’d known me for the last fifteen years. Over at the table beside ours, Tristan had two fingers in his mouth and was whistling. Gabriel stepped across and pulled me into a hug.

I was proud and pleased and relieved. But despite being exactly where I wanted to be, with everything I’d been working for . . . it wasn’t enough. Because Hollie wasn’t by my side to share in it. All I wanted was to turn to her and kiss her.

Instead, I took Primrose’s hand and led her to the stage.

Thirty

Dexter

I lay my hand, palm up, on the shiny mahogany of the bar. “I swear, my skin’s about to break I’ve shaken so many hands tonight,” I said, before downing a gulp of whiskey. As soon as we won, I’d wanted to leave, but Primrose made it clear I was to stick around. It wasn’t the skin on my hands that truly hurt. It was the stormy darkness swirling in my gut that I couldn’t drink away. Hollie should have been here tonight. She should be here now. With me.

“For a guy who just reached the pinnacle of his career, you don’t seem very happy,” Gabriel said.

My driver had taken Primrose and the trophy home and was going to come back for me. I’d been ready to leave but I didn’t want to go home, so Gabriel and Tristan had brought me to a nearby bar. My driver would be outside by now but I wasn’t ready to go back to the flat. Maybe I’d grab a room at a hotel. There was no point in going back to empty room after empty room. Not until I’d drunk a lot more. There was no one there to go home for. “I just have a sore hand,” I replied.

“Right,” he said, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Tristan never misses an opportunity to get a number, does he?”

“He tries too hard,” I said. It wasn’t true. Tristan didn’t need to try—he just liked the challenge—but I was taking my bad mood out on my friends. I needed to go out for a run or take a shower or do something to clear my head.

“I presume the fact that Hollie isn’t here has something to do with your demeanor,” Gabriel said. “As well as your sore hand.” He didn’t roll his eyes because that wasn’t Gabriel’s style, but he might as well have done.

There was no point in talking about Hollie. She was gone.

I finished my drink and ordered another. “You want one?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “Come on, mate. What happened? You should be happier than a pig in shit.”

“She had some kind of family crisis at home. Left early.”

“Oregon home?” he asked and I nodded. No doubt he had to check because it was so bloody ridiculous that she’d leave London completely. I should have forced the conversation about her staying in London. I’d just been busy with the competition and it didn’t occur to me that she’d up and go back to the US with no notice. I didn’t know who to be angrier with—her for just taking off or myself for not making her stay.

“But she’s coming back, right?”

“On the basis I’ve not had a single message or call since she left for the airport, I’m assuming she’s gone for good.” As I said the words my stomach churned. Could that be true?

I’d heard nothing. And I didn’t believe that bullshit about no news being good news.

“The phone works two ways, you know,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t have a number for her. She was using a company phone here, and she left it. I’ve emailed her sister. What more can I do?”

Gabriel beckoned over the barman and ordered another drink. “Do you want her back?”

“I wanted her here tonight.” I’d assumed we’d have time to figure things out after we’d won the competition. I’d assumed she wanted to stay. I’d assumed a lot of things. Things had been good between us and she loved London. She wouldn’t be going back to Oregon if it had been her choice. She wouldn’t have missed tonight.



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