The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Two

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Yes. boss. I remember,” Ian assured him.

  “Her father will be here in the next couple of hours to pick her up. You might want to check that her car is still in its assigned space. Silver Jaguar. Disable it.”

  “I’m on it. I hope the young lady feels better soon,” he said nodding towards Belle, and strode purposefully from the room.

  Amaranth was in the garden, deliriously happy. Belle was gone, she was out of the house.

  That interfering little slut is on her way home, along with that troublesome Theresa. I’ve won the day! My darling Simon, I’m so sorry to bring you the ugly truth, but when you see those pictures and read those treacherous words, that harlot swearing her love for another man, I know you’ll be immensely grateful. I might even tell you it was I who saved you. Yes I will, on our wedding day.

  Prancing around, she decided where their adoring friends and family would be seated, and could imagine the string quartet, the beautiful gazebo, and of course, the stunning floral arrangements she’d have placed everywhere.

  “Amaranth?”

  She turned to see Ian McCarthy walking slowly towards her.

  “How are you? I haven’t seen you for a while,” he smiled, and as his trained eye scanned the area, he spied a large pair of scissors laying on the ground nearby.

  “So happy, so very happy,” she beamed.

  “That’s good. Why are you so happy?”

  “I can’t really say, except that I just did Mr. Sinclair a huge, huge, favor, and he’s going to be very grateful,” she declared, rolling her eyes in her head, underscoring how important it was.

  Ian continued walking calmly forward, a syringe concealed in his hand just behind his thigh. Now that her weapon was not an issue, it would be an easy takedown.

  “Amaranth, isn’t that Mr. Sinclair?” he suggested, pointing behind her. “Over there, coming in through that gate?”

  Amaranth turned around and saw a man opening the gate at the far side of the garden.

  Is it him? Has he found the papers, has he come here to tell me how much he adores me?

  She stood straight and tall, ready to meet him, ready to share her solace and understanding.

  With lightening speed, startling for a man his size, Ian lunged forward, his muscled hold around her chest pinning her arms, and with swift accuracy his hand came up, sinking the needle into the vein in her neck. In less than a few seconds she sank into his body.

  The man coming in through the gate was one of his operatives. Moving quickly forward, taking the syringe from Ian’s hand, he capped it and placed it in his pocket.

  “Looks like we’re done here,” Ian announced, and lifting Amaranth, he carried her into the house.

  It had been three days since Amaranth had created havoc. In the hours that followed Simon’s return to the house on that fateful morning, Amaranth had been picked up and whisked away by her very apologetic and concerned father. Dr. Bradshaw had taken Theresa to his private clinic and discovered she had two cracked ribs, and after searching Amaranth’s office and suite of rooms, Ian’s men had recovered not only the red scrapbook, but an endless array of Simon Sinclair paraphernalia, including sex toys with his photograph, name, or both, affixed to the various devices.

  Simon had put Belle to bed, and stayed in the house working from his study so he could check on her throughout the day. It wasn’t until much later that night that she woke up. He made her take aspirin and water, and had tea and sandwiches brought up, then held her and talked with her, hearing bits and pieces of the story, starting with how she had found the envelope.

  They both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning, not waking until almost lunch time. To his great relief her head was clear, and in her eyes twinkled the familiar sparkle.

  “Please take it very slowly today,” he warned. “No dealing with emails from back home, no worrying about anything.”

  “I’m fine,” she protested.

  “You’re not debating this with me, are you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “No,” she replied quickly. “I’ll do exactly as you say. I promise.”

  “Can I go to the office knowing this for sure?”

  “Absolutely. I wouldn’t promise if I didn’t mean it.”

  So he had left her, but returned at lunch time, and stayed in close touch with her throughout the day. A shadow of a headache did plague her, and she did feel tired off and on, but by the following afternoon the intermittent fatigue had passed. Regardless, Simon kept things very low key and quiet, and though they kissed and cuddled, he held any sexual interaction at bay, determined that she would be one hundred percent recovered, before doing anything that required any effort on her part.

  Belle came to realize that the attack had impacted her more than she initially thought. She would be having a cup of tea, or eating a scone, and with no warning would begin to tremble. Simon’s decree that she do very little had been wise, though she had been anxious to tell him about Amaranth and everything she’d learned during their weekend.

  Now, three days later, cruising through the streets of London after a quiet dinner in a dimly lit, intimate restaurant, she felt like her old self. To Simon she appeared to be the radiant, beautiful woman that he had met in Beverly Hills, the woman who had softly and quietly ambled through the door of his heart.

  “May I ask where we’re going?” she inquired.

  “We’re going to City View,” he replied. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh, how marvelous,” she sighed. “What a perfect place to end the evening,” she beamed.

  He leaned over and kissed her softly. Belle felt an unexpected warm ripple of anticipation. Simon always had a sparkle in his sapphire eyes, but for a flash, she’d seen more, and her voice was telling her whatever the surprise might be, it was a doozy.

  The Rolls pulled to the curb outside the towering building, and Parker was quick to open the door. Stepping into the brisk evening air, they walked up the steps, through the doors, and into the elevators that whisked them up to the penthouse. Stepping inside, once again Belle marveled at the beauty that greeted her.

  “We’re going to the dome,” he announced, taking her hand.

  Walking through the rooms, Belle noticed some finishing touches to the decor. Small items had been strategically placed on tables and bookcases, and there were floral displays throughout giving the suite a more comfortable, lived-in feel.

  Moving outside on to the terrace, they were met with a cold, blustery wind, and Simon hurried her forward, up the stairs and into the dome. As she walked inside, she discovered a table had been set for two and placed against the windows, a single plate in the center with a silver cover. Two red candles were waiting to be lit, and a bottle of champagne was sitting in an ice bucket.

  “Simon, this is incredible,” she sighed. “Absolutely incredible.”

  “It’s dessert,” he smiled.

  “I thought you said no alcohol for a week,” she grinned.

  “That just looks like alcohol. It’s an excellent sparkling, dry grape juice that tastes just like champagne,” he grinned back.

  Belle smiled happily, unbuttoning her coat and throwing it aside finding no hint of the bitter cold that whistled beyond the windows.

  “Before we sit down, I have something spectacular to show you.”

  “Really? Spectacular? That sounds exciting,” she enthused.

  “Look through the telescope.”

  “Yay! I have always wanted to look through a serious telescope into space.”

  “Go ahead. Tell me what you see.”

  There was a small riser, and stepping up with Simon at her side, she leaned her head down and peered into the lens.

  “Simon!” she breathed, catching her breath at the sight. Saturn, with its many rings loomed before her, huge, seemingly touchable and real.

  “Oooh, Simon!” she repeated. “It’s, wow. Absolutely amazing,” she exclaimed, completely overwhelmed by the sight.
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br />   Simon stood behind her, an arm around her waist.

  “Never forget what you’re seeing. It’s extraordinary isn’t it?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes, extraordinary,” she agreed breathlessly, not wanting to take her eyes off it.

  “Stare at it as long as you want. I’m going to open the bubbly.”

  Stepping away he moved to the ice bucket, popped the cork, and poured the imitation champagne into their glasses, then sat down and waited, staring out at the city below him. He knew how stunning it was to view the planet for the first time. It was stunning every time, but the first time was truly dazzling.

  Finally satisfied, Belle lifted her head and smiled down at him.

  “We can come back here any time you want, but I know the first time is special.”

  “It is. I’ll never forget it,” she sighed.

  “Ready for dessert?”

  “You bet,” she replied, and moving off the riser, took her seat opposite him.

  “This is the perfect end to a perfect night,” she said softly.

  “It’s not over yet,” he reminded her. “Why don’t you do the honors,” he added, gesturing to the silver cover over the plate.

  “Happy to.”

  Reaching forward, she lifted it off, and let out a little cry of surprise.

  Sitting before her was a cake, decorated to look exactly like Saturn.

  “Simon! It’s fantastic.”

  “And delicious. Take a bite.”

  Picking up her spoon, she pulled off a piece of the iced sponge, and let it dissolve against her tongue.

  “For goodness sake, vanilla vodka. Sponge cake soaked with vanilla vodka. Again I ask, what about the no alcohol rule?”

  “Just a smidgeon. It’s appropriate. Keep probing, there’s another layer,” he said, reaching in with his dessert fork, taking a large chunk of the dewy sponge from his side.

  Belle pushed further in, uncovering a thick, creamy custard, and scooped it up, with another piece of the cake.

  “Oh, this is insanely good,” she moaned.

  “There’s still more,” he promised.

  “Really? Okay, I’ll dig deeper. This is like a treasure hunt,” she giggled.

  Digging with her fork, she felt it hit something.

  “Is that chocolate?” she asked.

  “Keep going, you’ll have to find out for yourself,” he replied.

  Scraping away the custard cream, she began to see a dark-colored shell and poked at it with the prongs of her fork. As it crumbled away, she saw a light glowing from inside.

  “What is this?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Keep scooping,” he pressed.

  She continued poking away the custard and crust, and as the small package inside began to reveal itself, she stopped, gasping in disbelief.

  On a miniature pedestal, inside a clear dome, lit by a tiny LED light, was a small, black, velvet box. An abrupt, unexpected lump sprang up in her throat, and lifting her gaze, she stared at him across the table. His sparkling eyes had grown misty, and she saw him swallow air.

  It was a perennial moment frozen in time, and though they knew it was about to pass, they also knew it would last forever.

  Simon reached down with his fork and pulled the remainder of the dessert shell away, uncovering the full spectacle of the box on its miniature stand.

  “Go ahead,” he said softly, “take it, open it, it’s yours.”

  Fingers trembling, she lifted the clear cover, shaking off the crumbs, and plucked the box from the tiny base upon which it sat, and raising the lid, stared down at a large, glistening, pear-cut, blue diamond, crowning an array of smaller stones, all set in a silvery band.

  Simon moved quickly from his seat, kneeling down by her chair.

  “Simon,” she whispered, turning to face him, barely able to utter his name, or to think, or breathe, or move.

  “I didn’t know how to do this,” he began tremulously. “I mean, I never imagined I would ever feel this way, but Belle, when I saw you draped over that trolley–” his voice caught, and he dropped his head, the abrupt recollection of the abject terror that had raced through his heart, too much to bear. Managing to compose himself, he gazed back up at her.

  “I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel. I don’t know why it’s been so hard for me, but the thing is...” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I love you. There, I’ve said it. I love you. I love you so very much,” he continued, his voice breaking, “and this sounds so bloody corny, but I would be the happiest man in the world if you would take that ring and let me put it on your finger, so it can show the world that you love me too, and want to be my wife.”

  Joyous tears dripped down her cheeks and touched her lips, kissing her with sweet salt.

  “Simon, oh my gosh, of course. Of course I love you. Of course I want to be your wife. You’re the most wonderful man ever!” she exclaimed.

  “The ring,” he said hoarsely. “Please?”

  “Oh, oh, yes,” she stuttered, handing him the box.

  Extricating it from the slit in the velvet, he took her hand, sliding it across her finger, then standing up, pulled her to her feet.

  “I chose this place to ask you, because it was here that I was truly overwhelmed by my feelings for you, and I wanted you to look at Saturn, because I want you to know that this ring is eternal, like the ring around Saturn. Don’t ever doubt that. If we ever have a disagreement, or have troubles, remember being here now and gazing at that planet and its rings. Eternal love. That’s what this ring means. Blue, of course, is for the heavens.”

  “And your eyes,” she added. “I have seen your love sparkle out of those eyes of yours many times, just like this gorgeous diamond.”

  The mist in his eyes gave way to water, and leaning down he cupped her face in his hands, pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her a kiss that Thomas Crown and his creators could not have even dreamed of.

  Dropping her head she laid against his chest, listening to the profound thumping of his heart. As his arms engulfed her she thought there was nowhere else in the world she wanted to be.

  Cuddled in the back of the Rolls, returning to the house, Belle couldn’t take her eyes off the huge diamond glistening in the soft light of the car.

  “I know we’ve only known each other a short while,” he remarked, “and we can be engaged as long you need, but I have absolutely no doubts.”

  “My mind might try and have some, but my heart doesn’t,” she sighed.

  “It looks beautiful on you. I knew it was the one the moment I saw it. Like you I think, though I wasn’t ready to admit it back then.”

  “Simon, there’s something I need to tell you. A confession really,” she said slowly. “Something I should have told you a while back.”

  “What?” he frowned.

  “Remember the night Amaranth brought us the champagne?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I knew she’d put something in it, that’s why I chose the vodka.”

  “What are you talking about? What do you mean you knew?” he asked, startled at the news. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “That’s the confession, or part of it. She had been so nasty to me, so snide, and I just had a feeling about it, and then I saw a mark on the glass. When you suggested she drink it she refused, and that confirmed my suspicions.”

  “You should have told me immediately,” he scolded.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to upset the apple cart.”

  “Is that the reason you said you didn’t want a personal assistant? Because it was Amaranth?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “though I still don’t think I need one, not full-time anyway, and there’s more.”

  A wave of submission slowly swept over her, and the butterflies started their dance.

  “Let’s have all of it,” he ordered, taking her hand for reassurance.

  “If she’d doped the champagne, I figured she’d probably do the same to my
vodka, so before we went away I checked. When I poured a little in a shot glass it didn’t look normal to me, so I brought a fresh bottle up from your bar downstairs and matched the level of the one she’d messed with. That bottle, the poisoned one, is in a bathroom cabinet.”

  “Uh-huh, keep going,” he pressed, wondering how much more there was.

  “Over the weekend, when you were working, I did some research on the net. She was at that school where you gave a speech years ago about being the youngest millionaire in the UK and seizing opportunities.”

  “Yes, I know that,” he said. “Her father was the one who set the whole thing up.”

  “She’s been obsessed with you ever since. I googled the name Amaranth, and it’s Greek for immortal, or unfading. She changed her last name to Simington because she was stating that you two were immortal. Amaranth and Simon.”

  “You did this over the weekend? My goodness, you should have told me all of this.”

  “I know that now, but I didn’t want to ruin such a lovely time, and then I was going to tell you on the way home, but the whole thing with your father happened. I simply couldn’t find the right time.”

  “I see,” he replied, pondering her excuses.

  “The last thing is that Theresa told me about the scrapbook right after we got home, and I thought about calling you then, but I knew you were really busy at the office, so...”

  “Anything else?” he asked sternly.

  “No, Sir, except that, from the very beginning she was unkind and weird with me.”

  Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

  “What am I going to do with you? You’re not alone anymore, Belle. You are my absolute priority and have been since you arrived here with me. I’m sorry you didn’t know that.”

  “I guess I’m just used to dealing with things by myself. Maybe I’m too independent,” she sighed.

  “I love your independence, I love how capable you are, but you also have to learn to lean on me, trust me, and keep me in the loop about things.”