Billionaire In Vegas

by Summer Cooper

  Margaret regained her composure and began to make soothing sounds, trying to calm Rainn. “Hush, Rainn. Don’t work yourself up, Jack is alive. The important thing is that you get better. You were very ill, we’re so glad you’re going to make a full recovery. ”

  “Where is Jack?” Rainn demanded angrily.

  Margaret and Yvonne shared a look, both secretly glad Rainn could not see. Suddenly, they were saved from Rainn’s questioning by the sound of the door opening. All three women turned their heads in the direction of the disruption, Margaret and Yvonne visibly relaxing. Rainn still looked puzzled and angry. From the sound of the slow, steady footsteps, she guessed it was a man. She smelt cinnamon and coffee. The air did not smell of wood or gin; it was not Jack. Rainn was silently pleased she would not have to confront her demons so soon.

  “Rainn! I’m so glad you’re awake, I’ve been terribly worried. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you came round.”

  Through Rainn’s muddled head, she recognized Stewart’s voice. She felt both happy and strangely shy as she greeted the man who saved her life.

  “Stewart, thank you so much for rescuing me, however can I repay you? What must you have thought?” Rainn despaired.

  “It sure was a shock seeing you and Mr. Bradley like that” Stewart admitted. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I should have been there to protect you.” Stewart bit his lip, worried he’d said too much.

  Rainn sensed his discomfort, politely ignoring his embarrassment. “Stewart, would you please do one more thing for me? Would you please tell me what happened? I’ll be an old woman before I get the truth out of these two.” Rainn gestured to Margaret and Yvonne, both giggling, thrilled that Rainn had not lost her sense of humor.

  “Of course I’ll tell you, Rainn. But before I begin, I don’t want to upset you. Are you sure you want to hear this?” Stewart asked.

  Rainn thought for a moment and then nodded. “Hearing it cannot be as bad as experiencing it,” she reasoned “I need to know what happened before I can move on. I will not let these events define me.”

  Stewart acquiesced, making himself comfortable in an armchair before beginning. “Well, I came by the house with a walking stick. I knew you were against the idea, but I just wanted to help you. It was my grandmother’s. I hoped you might like to run your fingers over the wooden carvings; it has elephants carved into the handle, my grandmother was a great animal lover. I hoped you could use the stick as I moved furniture with your supervision, to make you more comfortable. It would be easier for you to get your bearing that way. I’d hate for you to get hurt again, like that day with the vase.”

  Rainn was touched at the thoughtfulness of this man; Jack had never considered moving the furniture; he was too attached to his expensive antiques and relished having them on display. She also noted the adoring tone with which he spoke of his grandmother; family values were important to Rainn and she found Stewart more intriguing as he continued.

  “I walked in and the house was deadly silent. I thought you may have been out for lunch, so I went to the balcony to leave the gift. I know you love to spend time there because you can feel the warmth of the sun and smell the beautiful flowers. I walked into the room and thought I entered a horror scene! You and Mr. Bradley were both unconscious and the room stank of liquor and blood. I ran over to check if you were okay. You were breathing but your pulse was very faint. I called for an ambulance on my cellphone. Then I noticed the phone by your hand. I checked the call history and got in touch with your sister and cousin.”

  Yvonne and Margaret blushed at their mention in Stewart’s story and beckoned for him to continue, both inwardly delighted at his obvious adulation for Rainn.

  “I went to check Mr. Bradley next. I felt guilty for not checking him first; he is my boss after all, but I was so worried about you. I’ve seen Mr. Bradley like that before; when he drinks and takes drugs, he’s not a good man. I checked his pulse too, his was stronger than yours. I sat next to you to wait. I kept talking to you, hoping you’d know who I was and that I was there for you. I hated the thought of you waking up alone and frightened so I held your hand. The ambulance arrived with the police. Mr. Bradley was taken away in a separate vehicle– ” Stewart broke off, looking uneasy, unsure of how to continue.

  Rainn spoke softly, “You looked after me? Thank you so much. Please don’t be afraid to carry on. Jack, he got arrested, didn’t he?

  Stewart stared at her, amazed at her perceptiveness and dazzled by her beauty. “Yes, for drug possession and forceful consumption; what he did to you. He confessed to everything when he came round. He had a fantasy you were like Romeo and Juliet; star crossed lovers, destined to live and die together. He is being charged soon. I’m sorry.”

  Rainn, to everyone’s shock, smiled. She was glad to be free of Jack. She had not realized, until it was almost too late, how toxic their relationship was. She remembered the heartache he put her through all those months ago. Why had she taken him back? He was clearly mentally unstable. She didn’t need a bad boy to tame; she didn’t want to feel scared or small or intimidated. She wanted a good, honest man. Someone kind, who would want to take care of her and love her. Someone who did not drink or have irrational bursts of anger. She realized with a start, that she wanted someone like Stewart. Stewart had helped her when she fell. Stewart had never been unkind to her in any way. He had wanted to move the furniture to make her comfortable; even though it would have gotten him in trouble with Jack.

  “Stewart…” Rainn began nervously. “How long have you been here?”

  Stewart thought for a moment “Well, you’ve been here six days. The first two I slept on the floor beside you. But your wonderful family told me to get some rest. With Mr. Bradley in prison, I have no work to do, so I’ve been spending my days here with Yvonne and Margaret, just hoping you’d wake up.”

  Rainn felt stirrings of butterflies in her stomach. She was so touched at the sweetness of Stewart. She loved listening to him speak, his deep velvety voice sending shivers down her spine. Rainn blushed as her adoring crowd watched. Thinking deeply about the dependable, gentle man before her, she plucked up the courage to ask:

  “Stewart, when I am out of hospital, would you perhaps like to go for a coffee..?”

  The End

  Part III

  Being Desired

  Historical Romance

  About the Book

  Carla Debenham wants the one thing an early 20th century woman can’t have; freedom. To gain a better life she marries Henry Debenham, but her life is soon even more of a nightmare. To escape that nightmare she has a one night stand; hoping a child, the one thing Henry wants from her, will free her from his attentions. That decision changes her life forever.

  Henry’s death, a betrayal from an unsuspected source, and her pregnancy leave Carla with little choice but to marry the true father of her child. Though Samuel claims to love Carla she resents the fact that her freedom has once again been taken from her so quickly. The difficult birth of her child leaves her gravely ill and the consequences of that birth leave Carla and Samuel in a position to face their future in a totally new fashion. If Carla learns the truth, however, it could spell disaster and the betrayal of Carla’s trust could be more than their relationship can stand. Can Carla finally gain her freedom or does marriage bring with it a different kind of freedom, a freedom that only tragedy could make Carla understand?

  Chapter One

  Carla Debenham placed a gentle, elegantly slim hand on her burgeoning stomach and tried to calm the child kicking her from within. The music pouring out of the gramophone did not have its normal soothing effect on the child and the kicking was becoming painful. The baby seemed to respond to its mother’s touch finally and settled down just below her ribs. Rolling on her divan slightly, to ease the burden of the child’s new position, Carla rested her head on the pillow there and thought about her life up to this point. The memories were not happy ones, but that was the life of a woman whose husban
d had married her only to produce heirs in 1900 Yorkshire. Happiness was not something she should expect.

  Carla’s husband, Henry, chose Carla because she apparently looked like a “good brood mare.”Henry chose a bride from a social gathering of eligible young ladies of the manufacturing elite, the same social strata from which he came. He could have chosen a titled bride, a bride with land or a dowry, but he chose one that looked promising as a producer of children instead. She wasn’t the pale, blonde English rose he wanted, but she would do, despite being 18 years old; two years older than he expected, and dark-haired. She did have the requisite blues eyes Henry wanted, and that was close enough for him. Henry did not believe in love, only the power of capitalism, and the only emotion he ever showed; was anger, a smug gloating, or sometimes an awkward happiness that showed through when his business was doing exceedingly well. Otherwise he was dour, glum, and often brooding. His appearance also left much to be desired as he was portly with a florid face, unkempt hair, and often had a smell of unwashed body polluting the air around him.

  Carla had accepted Henry’s offer of marriage because she needed stability. She was the fifth daughter of a steel magnate, but her father passed away, leaving her mother to care for nine young children. Carla, being the youngest, had watched as her family’s fortune’s plummeted and her elder siblings married to attain a better standing in the world. Her mother did not manage the company well; even with a solicitor and advisers there to help her, and Carla’s only choice was to also marry. As the daughter of a virtually bankrupt steel production family, Carla did not have many options in suitors. Henry was the only one that asked for her hand in marriage, and though the man was dour, twenty years older than her and unappealing in every way, Carla agreed to his offer in the hope of securing her future.

  Henry made no bones about his need for children, not that he actually liked children, but they were heirs and he needed heirs. He had no time for a wife and would twice monthly perform his marital duties to ensure the production of an heir. The marriage had not produced a child 18 months after their wedding, and Henry, being a man who lacked knowledge about science, blamed Carla for their lack of children and soon began muttering about divorce.

  Henry’s temper had also become blacker as the time passed without a child being produced. Carla could do nothing to please him, though she tried, and he drank more each night. He’d begun to come to Carla’s room at night and the things he’d do, alluding to advice he’d received from various sources, demeaned and humiliated Carla. Then he’d begun a campaign of beatings, thinking Carla was wilfully defying his wish for children.

  Desperate and knowing the torment would stop if she produced a child, Carla knew she had to do something, anything, to get pregnant. Carla suspected the fault did not lie within her own body and started to look around for someone discreet, above reproach, and who Henry would not suspect had cuckolded him. Carla decided that the only man suitable for the job was her husband’s best friend, Samuel.

  Samuel was the only man that Carla would ever have an opportunity to sleep with, she quickly figured out. He often stayed overnight at the house, after going out with Henry for the evening, he was known to be a rake with the ladies, and he’d often eyed her with a look that Carla did not quite understand but knew to be mixed with lust. She did not want to break her marriage vows, but desperation had set in and Samuel appeared to be the only available option.

  Samuel had never made an untoward advance at Carla, but she suspected if the man was inebriated she stood a better chance at seducing him, for that is what she was going to have to do. Carla knew Samuel was a lifelong friend of Henry’s and knew that he would never make an advance towards her, so she waited until the men came back after a long night out. She could tell they were both very drunk by the loud, boisterous singing that Henry only allowed himself when he was drunk; otherwise he’d never partake in such an activity.

  She heard the men going to their rooms and waited until she knew Henry was asleep. She then quietly crept to Henry’s room and listened at the door. She heard loud snores coming from the room and knew Henry was asleep. Samuel’s door also revealed snoring so she crept in quietly, removed her dressing gown, and climbed into bed with the man. She used some of the techniques Henry had insisted she do to him to arouse Samuel, performed the deed, and quietly left the room, hoping that was all it would take. Samuel, for his part, barely seemed conscious throughout the process and had made no mention of it since. She would, however, catch him looking at her in a knowing way sometimes and that worried her. She’d hoped he’d passed out once it was all done and forgotten the incident, but she was not certain of that at all. Samuel seemed too interested in what was happening with her and the baby for Carla’s comfort.

  Carla was startled from her miserable trip down memory lane when a knock came at the door. Lulled by the music, the hand she used to soothe her baby, and her reverie, the sound startled Carla and she jumped to her feet, looking at the door in surprise. Telling herself she was silly she walked to the door to find her husband’s valet at the door.

  “Yes, Wilson, what can I do for you?”

  “Madam, your husband has taken ill and I believe we should call a doctor for him. He’s most pained.” Wilson spoke with a bland, disinterested tone that belied the seriousness of the matter. If her husband was calling for a doctor, he was truly ill.

  “Oh? Well, yes, call for the doctor at once, Wilson. I’ll go to him now to see if I can comfort him in some way.” Carla may not care overmuch for her husband, but she respected his position as her husband. His well-being was in her interest and that of her child’s; her existence depended on his, after all.

  “I’ll send someone at once, madam. Do you need anything else from me in the meantime?” Wilson asked.

  “No, that is all.” Carla gathered her skirts and walked down the hall to her husband’s room. The room reeked of old body odour, alcoholic sweat, and decay. The maids cleaned the room daily but somehow the smell persisted. Carla suspected it came from Henry himself and no amount of cleaning would get it out of the mattress, the walls, or the furniture. It was just there, a permanent reminder of Henry’s presence after all of these years.

  Carla saw Henry on his hands and knees in his bed, bed-gown hiked up around his hips and a large red stain marring the pristine whiteness of the bed sheet beneath him. Henry was bleeding from somewhere but he refused to tell Carla where the blood came from. The doctor soon arrived, a short, bald, man filled with self-importance that quickly ushered Carla out of the room, telling her a woman in her delicate condition should not be in the sickroom.

  Carla paced within her own bed chamber, wondering what exactly was happening. She heard a cry from the hall and quickly left the room to see her mother-in-law, Beatrice Debenham, on the floor sobbing as the doctor tried to get her up and regain her dignity. The little man seemed to have no idea how to speak to women and Carla marched over, hoping to comfort the woman who had coldly rejected her from the moment Carla met her. She did not care for Beatrice either, but felt it her duty to care for the woman the best she could.

  Carla looked to the doctor for more information and the man seemed to shrink within himself under Carla’s stare.

  “Well?” She finally asked.

  “I’m afraid there was nothing I could do, Mrs. Debenham. Mr. Debenham should have called me much sooner, I may have been able to stop the bleeding but I was called much too late. He put it off far too long and the blood loss could not be stopped. I’m afraid your husband has expired, Mrs. Debenham.” The doctor quietly walked back into her husband’s bed chamber and shut the door.

  Carla felt like joining Beatrice on the floor, her shock great and unexpected. She had no emotional attachment to Henry, she’d had no tender feelings towards him, but he had provided a home and comforts for her, about all a woman in her position could hope for. Carla herself did not believe in marital love, though she knew familial love existed. She just had no idea how a woman who sold
herself to a man for the sake of a home and respectability could come to love a man, especially when that man had subjected the life Henry had subjected Carla to. Her shock was due to her new state; widowhood, and worry for her future and her child’s. Henry’s family could expel her from the home, cut off her support if he had not provided for her. She clutched her hand to her stomach, hoping that she could protect her child, somehow.

  Reaching down, Carla tried to comfort the sobbing woman with a handkerchief crammed into her mouth; an attempt to hide her sobs Carla suspected, and she tried to lift her. Her attempts at comfort were rebuffed and met with venom.

  “Don’t touch me, wretch! You have brought a curse upon this family, my poor Henry has died! In the prime of his life and now he’s dead. You caused this, I know you did! I heard your screams when Henry visited you at night but knew he was doing his duty. You couldn’t even submit and do it quietly. For now we will support you, at least until your child is born. Then you’ll have to go. I don’t know how you did this but you’ve caused my son to lose his life and I’ll see you on the street for it!” Beatrice was shouting by the time she finished and Carla had backed down the hall as her voice rose. Seeing she was at her door, she hurried through it, her horror at Beatrice’s words growing.

  Carla knew she’d done nothing wrong, but now she had the added worry of being thrown out once her child was born, and knew Beatrice would take the child from her, as well. Carla locked her door and ran to her bed, afraid to take her eyes from the door in case Beatrice tried to come through it and spread more of her vile hate.

  Carla paced the floor, wondering what her husband’s solicitor was going to tell her today. The man was currently ensconced in her husband’s office, going over a last minute reading of Henry’s will; two weeks after he’d been laid to rest. The family was quickly called in soon after and Carla’s fate was revealed.