Lucky Stars (2 page)

Miles’s brother, James Bennett was equally, if not more, famous as Miles.

He was also, in looks, the exact opposite.

Miles looked like his mother.

James Bennett looked like his now-deceased father.

Black-haired with startlingly green eyes rimmed with long, black lashes, James Bennett (if the pictures were true) was taller than Miles. He was also lean and broad-shouldered but his muscles were more powerful. And, if Miles held his body with a casual ease, James held his with a fierce command.

James, in the many photos Belle had seen of him (and there were many), was more intense, more masculine, his features bolder and stronger, while Miles’s still held a hint of boyishness.

James, being elder, (arguably) more attractive and standing to (and unfortunately, three years ago, upon his father’s untimely death, actually doing it) inherit the castle, had much more attention on him his whole life.

He, however, had not gone into the family banking business but instead started his own business. He did something complicated Belle didn’t understand and did it very,
very
well making him far,
far
richer and increasing the already oppressive attention he had from the media.

He had, however, also inherited the role of CEO of the vast banking conglomerate that extended throughout the European Union and the Americas that the Bennett family had owned for years.

Now he did both, reportedly with great success even if his attention to these two undertakings was rather shocking since only one would tax even the best of men.

This served only to increase public interest.

The fact that he and Miles routinely dated and often had rather public but usually short-lived (though frequently stormy), relationships with every glamorous, beautiful and available model, actress and debutante, squiring them to art openings, charity functions and exclusive restaurants, made it all the worse.

“Oh, he’s here,” Miles said and Belle nearly missed a step when Miles made this casual statement.

“He’s here?” Belle breathed, unhappy about this news.

Miles had told her James couldn’t attend because of some business in Slovakia or Bosnia or some country ending in “
ia
”.

She was already incredibly nervous about the evening. She didn’t need another reason to be nervous. And James Bennett was the kind of man who could make even the most beautiful, sophisticated, accomplished, confident person nervous.

And Belle was
none
of those.

“Oh yes, he’s here.
Arrived as a surprise for Mum a little over an hour ago.”
Miles looked down at her and smiled. This smile, Belle saw, was not warm and affectionate.

It was strangely…

She stared up at him…

Triumphant.

As if someone had called Miles and told him that he’d won the Nobel Prize for simply existing.

This was so weird it also didn’t make Belle happy.

In fact, it kind of freaked her out.

They made it to the bottom of the stairs and before Belle could process her emotion she heard her name cried.

And it was cried loudly.

She took her eyes from Miles and looked across him to see Joy heading, or more accurately described as
charging
their way.

She was wearing a deep burgundy dress with long sleeves and gathered cross-draping. To Belle’s experienced eye, the dress was complicated and stunning.

“I love your hair!” Joy exclaimed when she arrived at Belle and Miles. She leaned in and gave Belle a cheek touch and air kiss, her hands curling on Belle’s forearms. She leaned back and cried, “And your
dress!
” She said no more, her tone and emphasis were enough to say that words
simply
did not describe.

Belle fought the urge to touch her hair nervously. She’d pulled it back softly from her face and fixed it in a loose chignon at the side of her nape. It took about twenty tries to get it right but she’d finally done it.

Except one, long, thick tendril that curled down the side of her neck, which would not, no matter what Belle tried to do (and she’d tried everything), stay fixed in the knot.

“Thank you,” Belle whispered, her gaze moving to the guests in the vast hall, of which there were a fair few standing about, all of their eyes on her.

After the events of eight months ago, she’d become somewhat accustomed to eyes on her.

That didn’t mean she liked it and it always made her feel awkward.

Or, more awkward than she normally felt.

Joy linked her arm through Belle’s and announced, “Let’s get you a drink, shall we?”

Joy pulled Belle away from Miles and toward the fantastic drawing room which was decorated in whites, creams, yellows and
golds
. Miles had given her the full tour of the castle that afternoon. It had taken more than an hour mainly because Belle was enthralled that any family could actually
live
in such historical splendour but also because it was
huge
.

It boggled the mind.

Or, at least, it boggled Belle’s mind.

Though, Belle had to admit, her mind was not difficult to boggle.

The drawing room had even more people and Belle felt her body grow tight as, upon their entry, many of their eyes moved to her.

Joy didn’t seem to notice and leaned close to Belle, not as if they’d met only hours before but as if they were bosom buddies and had been for decades. “Miles delivered your present to me while you were getting ready. I love it, Belle. Thank you.”

Belle turned her head to Joy at these genuine and heartfelt words and she smiled.

She didn’t know if she should give a woman she’d never met a present but considering she was attending her party and dating her son she figured it would be bad manners if she didn’t do something.

It took fifteen calls to her grandmother, mother and a variety of friends before Belle chose a piece of jewellery from her shop. Hammered silver that was cut sharply in places, rolled stylishly in others and liberally sprinkled with freshwater pearls, it had a unique style and Belle thought it was lovely.

Still, what did you get the woman who had or could have everything?

Clearly, Belle hadn’t done a bad job of it.

“I’m pleased you like it,” Belle murmured, sounding as pleased as she was and Joy squeezed her arm.

“I don’t like it, I love it. It’s unusual, beautiful and very thoughtful,” Joy replied.

For the first time since she arrived at the castle, Belle felt unmitigated happiness and her smile deepened.

They stopped at a small bar set up for the party with a variety of glasses and bottles of liquor with buckets of ice. It was attended by a dark-jacketed, bow-tied bartender.

“Two champagnes please,” Miles ordered, coming to stand behind Belle and she felt his hand move to rest at the small of her back.

She looked over her shoulder at Miles and tried to hide her annoyance.

He did that all the time, ordered for her. And it wasn’t like he knew her preferences because he barely knew
her
. He just said things like “You have to try this,” or “This is the best thing they make,” and then he’d order it for her without allowing her to say a word.

She actually didn’t want the meals he ordered her and at that moment she also didn’t want champagne.

With her nerves, she needed at the very least vodka. If she had the courage of her grandmother and mother, she would have ordered a shot of tequila (or three).

Champagne wasn’t even in her top five.

She sighed and let it go.

One thing she learned from Calvin was to pick her battles.

And she was not going to have words over champagne.

The bartender held out the glass to her but Miles leaned in and took it, moving it the scant inch between the bartender’s hand and Belle’s as if Belle was above doing such common things as accepting a glass of champagne from a lowly servant.

This act so surprised and irritated her, she very nearly said something.

Of course, she did not.

Instead, she clenched her teeth a moment before she lifted the glass and sipped.

“Oh there’s Adele!” Joy cried suddenly, glancing across the room. “I must go say hello.” She turned to Belle. “Now that you have refreshments, I can leave you to it.” Her eyes moved upwards to her son. “Now
Miles,
don’t let Belle get drunk and dance on any tables,” she ordered and the very idea of Belle “Meek and Mild” Abbot dancing on a table made Belle burst out laughing.

When she’d controlled her hilarity and her gaze focussed on Joy, the woman’s blue eyes were studying Belle and they were shining with an odd, soft light.

Then she leaned toward Belle and whispered. “You should do that more often, darling.”

Then without another word, she was gone, melting into the crowd.

Miles moved her away from the bar so others could order drinks and Belle braced because she was certain she was going to have to start mingling.

Belle hated to mingle. She had no talent for small talk and found the effort gruelling.

They did not, however, sift into the crowd. Instead, Miles’s hand at her waist curled her body toward his and then in so they were hips-to-hips and belly-to-belly.

Startled, Belle looked up at him.

Firstly, they were too close,
loverly
close. It wasn’t seemly and, furthermore, they weren’t lovers.

Secondly, they’d shared some kisses but she hadn’t even let Miles get to second base and he’d tried on every date they shared, even the first one. She was uncomfortable with this casual but extreme closeness which gave the wrong message.

They certainly were
not
at a point in their relationship where he would hold her that close in public.

In fact, Belle wasn’t entirely certain there
ever
would be a time in
any
relationship where she’d allow a man to hold her that close in public.

Not before Calvin.

Not during Calvin (not that he was that way inclined, fortunately).

Not after Calvin.

She put her hand to his bicep and leaned against his arm, tipping her head back to look at him.

She opened her mouth to ask him to move away when she felt it.

A trill shot up her spine causing the small hairs at the hairline of her neck to rise and she felt her belly dip right before it warmed.

Of its own accord, her head turned to the side, her eyes moved instinctively and locked on a man across the room.

He was an unbelievably handsome, green-eyed man who stood straight and tall, his body, even at rest, clearly at his command and his gaze was riveted on her.

Belle’s knees went weak, heat hit her cheeks and her fingers clutched Miles’s arm as she looked upon the indecently attractive James Bennett, in the flesh, for the very first time.

* * * * *

Jack

Jack was listening to Yasmin talk as he took a sip of champagne before the crowds parted and he saw her wearing a blush-coloured dress and pink shoes. Both dress and shoes were feminine and unbelievably sexy in a way they hinted tantalisingly at the charms of the woman wearing them rather than brazenly displaying them.

He was struck by the sight of her. Struck enough for his body to go completely still, his hand holding the glass arrested in its descent from his lips.

Then it hit him who she was.

In the last eight months he’d seen her pictures dozens of times, maybe even scores of times in the media.

Belle Abbot, “The Tiny Dynamo”, “The Great American Heroine” and half a dozen other nicknames the press had given her when, eight months ago, she’d witnessed an accident in front of her while driving down the road. A bus carrying school children coming back from an outing had flipped over a bridge into icy waters.

She’d stopped her car, torn out and dove into the freezing sea to save the lives of seven schoolchildren and the bus driver who she’d plunged after, again and again, to pull from the bus.

Two children had swum free themselves, two children had drowned. Both drown victims Belle had pulled from the watery wreckage and one she was still giving CPR when the paramedics finally arrived.

This was all caught on other onlookers’ phones, both in photos and video. They did not help Belle Abbot. No. Instead they sold their photos far and wide. Photos of her dripping wet, diving, breaking the surface with a child’s arm wrapped around her neck, dragging the child behind her, kicking toward the shore.

The press had made a meal of her, as they would because the story was, frankly, astounding.

They hadn’t, however, as the months passed, lost their interest.

Mainly because, when Belle Abbot wasn’t cold, wet and saving lives, she was exceptionally pretty.

Not beautiful, her nose was too pert, her skin was peaches and cream, she was not petite but also not tall.