The Billionaire's Ruthless Intrusion (Billionaire Knights Book 1) by Nic Saint

wife—as a family. They’d be standing at the altar, exchanging vows and rings before he would sweep her up into his arms—his wife, his bride, for all eternity.
    No! Making her his bride would be the sensible thing—the thing his grandfather would have wished him to do. But he couldn’t do it. He could never marry Kirsty when she was so obviously in love with another man. His pride wouldn’t allow it. He’d protect her, yes, and keep her from harm, but she’d be free to choose as her life’s partner whom she wanted. As long as it wasn’t Geoffrey. Never Geoffrey, he vowed with gritted teeth. Not now, not ever.

Chapter 13
    W hen Kirsty rang the bell of Stuart’s stepmother, she momentarily forgot the feeling of weariness with which she’d ventured out on this visit with Stuart. Ever since their return from Nice he’d kept her busy with the projects that were under his personal auspices, and kept a close eye on her from morning till night, but never so much as spoke a word about what had happened between them on that fateful night. It was almost as if as far as he was concerned it never took place, and perhaps to him the event was as insignificant as it appeared. He probably took women to bed on a regular basis, and never bothered to remind himself afterward that they were more than mere bodies to be taken in sexual hunger. That they were human beings with souls that could be crushed and hearts that could be broken.
    She’d slept fitfully each night since their return, and when finally she did find sleep she awakened to feverish dreams of such eroticism that her body had shaken tempestuously, her limbs grinding and her hands touching her own core in a bid to replace the hard male body she yearned for. Stuart’s presence in her bed and in her life was sorely missed, she had to admit, even though she’d never given him a moment’s thought before. But now she did. Oh, how she did!
    She stood back and joined Stuart at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to the ornate door of the townhouse where Stuart’s stepmother lived. While Stuart’s father had died in the horrible car crash she’d been thrown free of the car he’d been driving, drunk and high on cocaine, and through some miracle had been saved, only sustaining minor injuries while her husband had been declared dead on the spot. Stuart and his brothers had never forgiven her, and this was his first visit since the funeral, she knew. Nonetheless, as Caroline Popping now held all the cards controlling Knight’s fate, the visit was something that couldn’t be avoided. Maybe—just maybe—the former reality star might be convinced to put loyalty to the name she now carried before financial gain.
    The door was opened by the lady of the house herself. In spite of her age—she was closer to sixty than fifty—her skin looked impeccable, albeit slightly stretched over the high cheekbones that were her hallmark. Botox, Kirsty suspected. Likewise, her hair was an unnatural blond and she’d opted for a risqué dress displaying a pair of surgically enhanced breasts. It was obvious that Stuart’s father had paid for the privilege of endowing La Popping with the silicone she was so proud to put on full display.
    As she found herself staring at the woman she thought she could feel Stuart’s animosity bodily radiating from him, his face a mask of enmity.
    Caroline appeared unruffled as she squealed, “Stuart! So nice to see you!”
    They followed her into the house. The place was perfectly decorated, though not in the modern style Kirsty had expected. This had been Stuart’s family home, where he’d grown up with his two brothers and their real mother, before she’d been taken from them by the debilitating disease that had ravaged her. This was long before Caroline Popping had first entered their lives. And long before the three Knight men had become fatherless as well as motherless.
    Since then Caroline had completely remodeled the house to her own taste