It was Lucia, looking furious… next to a stoic-looking Callum.

“Are we interrupting?” Lucia raised her brow, green eyes murderous.

Mark casually shook his head. “We’re just relaxing a bit. Anything we can help you with?” He darted Callum a steady gaze. “Kensington, right?”

Duh. He knew who Callum was, so why pretend like he didn’t? Mark was such a wanker.

Callum, however, was detached and completely ignored him. “Stella, may we have a moment?”

Not looking directly at him, I blushed. “Yeah, sure,” I grumbled, shifting my skirt that had ridden upwards.

Shit.

“You can let go of her foot now,” Callum demanded, voice chilly and with an underlying threat evident in how he said the words.

Mark, the total teaser geezer that he was, seemed unfazed as he eyed me with amusement. He even had the gall to kiss my big toe before he whispered into my ear, “Looks like big bad wolf is the jealous type. I love you, but please be cautious with him? He’s not like Derek. He’ll annihilate you like the rest of them.” Mark then kissed my cheek and then stood up. “See you tonight. By the way, don’t forget to look smashing hot.” He departed with those words, not even making an effort to greet Lucia.

The woman was sending me murderous glares as she looked at the open door and then back at me. She made a scary growl before she walked out of my office, slamming the door with her.

Fuck, she was mad.

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Mark and I always fooled around like kids, what was the big deal now? Was I missing something here?

“Was that Derek?” Callum broke through my thoughts.

Still not glancing his way, I shook my head and tried to compose myself as I slowly stood up and placed my foot into my shoe, one after the other, with care. “No, that was Mark, the other man in my life.” I always referred to my best friend as such, but when I finally met his gaze, I began wondering if my words were taken in the wrong context.

Seeing him now, it seemed like I had reverted back to the woman I was when we had been together. I wanted to fight the pulling power he had over me, but the images of him touching me explicitly in the garden—his touch, his seductive voice that lulled me into a deep sexual coma and the power this man exuded—placed me back in a capsule, one where I could only see him. I couldn’t hear anyone except him.

I bit into my bottom lip as I recalled the first time I felt him nudge inside me. My body had reacted in a manner that was of a nympho, but God help me, the images were driving me insane and I couldn’t help other than to clench to prolong the heated memories in my mind. It was arousing. Intoxicating. Titillating.

“How many are there?”

Wait, what? Blinking a few times, I frowned at him. “Excuse me?” Did I miss something? I didn’t notice him speak at all… in fact, I was almost sure he was having the same thoughts as I was. Guess my imagination was getting the best of me… I was clearly seeing things.

Callum remained close to the door, not bothering to move or greet me ‘hello’. “You said Mark was the other man in your life. I’m asking how many men are there.”

“Um, not a lot.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood in the room. “My number is not like yours. Not that I want it to be, of course.” My smile flittered away when I noticed his jaw had locked together. “I mean, your numbers must be impressive, but I’m not planning to run around London and match yours… well, um, I wasn’t trying to insult you. Goodness, that wasn’t my intention.” Fucking shitty hell. I was rambling on and I knew I should’ve stopped when I saw his jaws pressed together. Why, oh, why did I always act like a fool when he was around?

“Can I get you anything, a drink perhaps? Sorry, but I forgot the reason for your visit, Cal.” Strolling towards my desk, I was about to get ahold of my phone to call for refreshments when he interrupted me.

“I don’t need a drink or anything else, I’m not staying long. We haven’t spoken in days and I was already around this area, so I thought I should drop by and say hello. It was a momentary lapse; I apologize for interrupting your working afternoon. I’ll see you around.” Callum paused for a moment, eyes penetrating into me before he spun around and left my office.

“What the f**k was that?” I whispered into my silent room, bewildered.

If he wanted to say hello, then why was he acting all standoffish? Confused, I darted out of my room and quickly strode towards the elevator to see if I could catch him, but Luciana blocked my way.

“Is there something going on between Mark and you that I should know about? We’re all best of friends. I would greatly appreciate it if I was informed first.”

Whoa, where was she going with this? Mark and me? Was she serious? The guy was practically salivating at her feet. “This is a stupid joke, right? We both know he loves his Italian women. I have to go.” I tried to move away, but she darted me a scathing glare. AGAIN.

“You two looked too comfortable. More like intimate… lovers.” Luciana looked pained when she uttered the last word. I was about to argue with her when I noticed that her eyes were getting teary. “Please, just tell me if there is or if he’s trying to get into your knickers. Italian fetish or not, you’re a gorgeous woman, Stella. Any man would be blind not to want you.”

Oh my God, she was practically crying. Fuck. I cupped her cheeks, pleading. “Sweetie, I don’t fancy Mark that way, nor does he feel that towards me.” I paused, letting all the words sink in. “He wants you and yet you have rejected him for the past few years. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think your feelings for him are changing and if they are, don’t you think it’s time to tell him that?”

Luciana shook her head. “I can’t. I’m frightened. He might laugh at me. I don’t know,” she murmured, dabbing her eyes carefully. “Don’t mention anything to him. Maybe in time, I just might. For now, though, let’s keep it between you and me.”

“Of course.” I nodded before I watched her slowly walk away.

Luciana paused mid-way, giving me a small smile. “Thanks for being honest with me, S.” She walked a few steps as did I, but whistled at me again to catch my attention. “By the way, I forgot to ask, what did one of England’s most notorious players want from you? FW is no more?”

FW. Fake Wife.

“Ha! Still am and I doubt it will ever change. So don’t get any ideas,” I blurted out.




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