THE WIDOWER'S WIFE

IRIS' POV

The event was in full swing. The place was decorated beautifully, from the top to the bottom. Of course, you would expect nothing less for the birthday ceremony for the only son of Liam Brantholm and the heir to the Brantholm empire, Julian Brantholm.

I, on the other hand, was bored with this party. My parents had forced me to attend, and I had no other choice than to obey. Left to me, I would have been in my room at home reading a book, but no, I was forced to attend this social gathering.

I stood at the corner, watching everybody mingle, I wanted no part of it and I wasn't even going to pretend that I did. I didn't even know what the groom looked like, all I knew was that his father was one of my father's business associates and one that he could not afford to lose.

Liam Brantholm was one of the most important people in the whole of New York. His name was so powerful, it made other powerful businessmen like my dad bow to their needs. My father always spoke of how he could not afford to lose him as an investor for the family's company.

I didn't care about the man one bit. He always seemed too corny and did whatever he wanted without anybody holding him accountable. I heard that he got away with a few crimes, but he had never been investigated. I was very sure he had the police under his belt.

"You don't look so happy to be here." A voice said from behind me. I was startled and I turned around abruptly to see who had spoken.

I was met with hazel-green eyes and a face so handsome it almost took my breath away. His black hair was cut short, he was lean and muscular, and he was tall. A couple of inches taller than me.

"Because I am not," I stated in a matter-of-fact tone after I had found my voice. I tried to appear unfazed by his presence.

"I don't blame you; I am not so happy to be here either." He stated, now leaning on the wall next to me. He was an image to behold in his navy blue three-piece suit.

"Really? Why is that?" I asked, suddenly enjoying his company. Normally, I would be repulsed, but this man seemed interesting.

"I just don't care for the festivities, and I hate social gatherings."

"Same here," I said with a small smile playing on my lips which he returned.

"Why?" He asked.

"I would much rather be spending my time at home, reading a book or watching a rom-com," I said proudly. I was not ashamed of my passions, and I always found a way to mention them in every conversation. My brothers and colleagues made endless fun of me for reading so much but I didn't care. It was what made me happy.

"Oh, you love to read. What kind of books?"

"Mostly romance, biographies, and murder/thriller."

"I'm with you on the biographies and murder/thriller but not romance."

"Don't tell me, you don't believe in romance," I said and rolled my eyes.

"I can't believe in something that is a myth... an idea. There is no such thing as happily ever after." He stated. What he was saying was a load of nonsense, but I couldn't help but love how he looked me in the eye when he spoke.

He exhibited so much confidence it was hard not to be pulled into his orbit.

"Sounds like someone who's had his heart broken."

"Oh, and you believe in romance. Sounds like somebody who has never had her heart broken." He retorts.

I break into a laugh. "You are right, I have never had a relationship before."

"And I can guess why. You have read so much of these romance novels, that you have subconsciously created a standard in your mind that no man will be able to meet because these standards are unrealistic."

"Hey, mister. You know nothing about me." I scoffed, suddenly feeling very defensive. The truth is that he was not wrong. I just didn't want to admit it. Every time I meet a guy, I always find myself comparing him to the fictional characters in those books. It was not healthy, and it was something I knew I had to break out of. He was right, those standards were very unrealistic.

"You're right, I don't but I can tell by the look on your face that you know I am right." I turned to face him, but he wasn't looking at me anymore, he was staring at the dance floor.

"What kind of birthday party is this anyway? The celebrant isn't even around." I mutter.

"What makes you think he is not around?"

"Because I haven't seen him. But then again, I wouldn't recognize him if I did, I have never seen him before."

"I can see that. He is around, you just probably don't recognize him, and he seems to be keeping a low profile."

I scoff. "I doubt. I am sure he is just like his father."

"Do you have something against Liam Brantholm?" He asked with an amused look on his face.

"Not really. I just think he is very corky and a bit of an asshole." I respond, causing the strange man to burst into fits of laughter.

"I have never heard anybody talk that way about, Liam." He said with a grin on his face.

"So, you agree?"

"I am sure everybody would agree, but nobody is ever brave enough to say it aloud. I sort of wish he could have heard you."

"Oh God, no. My father would end me if he heard, he worships the ground the man walks on." I say with a gag.

"Who is your father?"

"Henry Castille," I say looking in the direction of my father.

"Oh. I just realized I don't know your name."

"Iris... Iris Castille."

"Iris, a beautiful name for a beautiful lady." He took my hand in his and kissed the back. That one action sent a wave of electricity all over my body.

"And what is your name?" I asked, trying to hide the blush that tried to creep its way to my face.

He let go of my hand and gave me a small smile. "Julian... Julian Brantholm." He said and walked away, leaving me utterly dumbfounded.

JULIAN'S POV

The image of her face kept playing repeatedly in my mind. I had been watching her the entire night and something about her intrigued me, pulled me to her in a way that I didn't understand. I had not had such a strong pull on any woman since Kate had died. I had not been interested in romance, I focused on my daughters and work and never women, at least nothing more than a causal relationship with women. I wasn't made of wood.

Long after the party was over, I laid awake in my bed thinking of Iris Castille, no matter how hard I tried to make myself stop. She was the very definition of gorgeous and I knew I wasn't the only person who had my eyes on her that night. I noticed the way heads turned whenever she walked past, right from the moment that she walked through the gigantic doors of my family's ballroom.

She was dressed in a long, fitted silver dress that hugged her curves and a slit that showed off her long, sexy legs. Her black hair was in a high ponytail which seemed to bring out her big brown eyes. She had on very little make-up, unlike the other women who had filled their faces with it just to look half as she was.

I spent the whole time talking to her, trying to keep my gaze away from my luscious, glossed, pink lips. It took all my willpower not to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless.

I shook my head trying to return to my senses. I had no business thinking about her in such a manner, but she intrigued me. I loved the way she spoke about my father. He was corky and an asshole and I admired the fact that she dared to say that out loud. The fact that she had no problem openly disliking my father was another thing that drew me to her. It was refreshing to hear someone does not kiss his ass for once. I wanted to meet Iris again and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that it happened.

***

"Mr. Brantholm, your father is here to see you." My assistant Kayla said through the office intercom. I rolled my eyes and tried not to groan because I knew he would hear me. I always hated my father's visits, and I was very sure that he knew that but he continued to come anyway. My father and I had always had a strained relationship and it only worsened when my mother died.

"Send him in. Thank you, Kayla."

Less than ten seconds later, my dad walked into my office in his ever-confident stride. I couldn't blame him for how cocky he was sometimes. At almost, sixty-five years of age, Liam Brantholm was very strong and fit. He looked like he was still in his forties. He was like an older version of me and the only difference between the two of us were the little wrinkles on his face, my eyes which I got from my mother, and of course, the fact that his hair was grey and mine was not.

"Hello, Father. To what do I owe this visit?" I said, sarcasm lacing my tone heavily as he walked in and took the chair opposite me.

"Don't be like that, dear son. Can't a man come to see his only child without wanting something?"

"A man can, but you can't." I deadpanned. This earned me a chuckle from my father while I only rolled my eyes in response.

"Fine. I came to see how far along we are with that thing we spoke about."

Oh yes, how could I have forgotten that my dear old dad was forcing me to get married before he would sign over the company to me? I don't know why cared so much that I refused to get married again. When I asked him the only response, he could offer was that 'it makes a man look more responsible when he has a woman in his arms'. It was a stupid and old-fashioned way of reasoning and I had told him as such, but he was relentless.

"How can I find a wife in just one week?" I scoffed.

"That was the entire point of your party last night, to find a suitable wife."

"Oh, my bad. I thought you threw me a party to celebrate my life." I shot back.

"Don't be like that, Julian. Two birds, one stone."

Sometimes I wish I could throw my father through a wall. He was a pain in the ass, and I hated him so much. The only reason I tolerated him was that for some reason, my daughters, Zoe and Zara loved the man so much. I didn't understand it.

"Just give it a right, Dad. I'll find a wife when I am ready."

"You make it sound like I'm giving you a choice. You need to find a wife before the end of a month and I mean it, else I will find one for you."

"You're not listening. I am not ready to get married. I am very capable of running the company whether I have a wife and we both know that." I shot back.

"I do not care. I am not giving my company to you if you don't have a wife. My father didn't give me the company till I got married and it won't be any different for you. There is no one from the Brantholm family that has ever run this company without a wife, and you won't be different."

"I used to have a wife and she died. I don't know if you remember."

"Yes, and it is time to move on. Think about your daughters. In a few years, they will be teenagers, they need a mother figure. There are things you just can't do alone." He spoke. That shut me up because it made a lot of sense.

"Fine, but I get to choose my wife, no interference from you," I said because I already had a perfect person in mind, I just needed to find out how to convince her.

IRIS' POV

"You have a guest, Miss Castille." Our butler Desmond said. I was surprised because I hardly ever got any guests.

"Who is it, Desmond? I am not expecting anyone."

"A mister Julian Brantholm." He said making me jump from the chair I had been sitting on and accidentally dropping the book I had been reading.

It had been over two weeks since his birthday party and our paths had not crossed since that time. What could have inspired his visits? I wondered.

"Tell him I will be right down," I said dismissing Desmond. He simply nodded his head and then left. I had to make myself look presentable and not like I had been in bed all day reading novels.

I rushed to my closet and pulled out my black jeans and a white 'One Direction' crop top. I put it on and then let my hair down. I applied a little lip gloss; I didn't want to make it obvious that I was putting in so much effort for him. I felt like a schoolgirl who had a crush on a boy in school. I felt excited.

I took deep breaths to calm my nerves before descending the stairs.

When I got downstairs, Julian was standing in the middle of the living room. He looked more casual than he did at his party in brown cargo shorts and a black tee shirt. It was fitted and it showed off his toned body. He was deep in conversation with my brother, Ivan and he had not noticed me yet.

"Hey, Julian," I said, drawing his attention away from my brother to me. I am sure Ivan had managed to engage him in some business discussions.

His face immediately broke into a smile when he turned to look at me. Did I mention he had a gorgeous smile? No guy had ever had such an effect on me before. It is a wonder that these feelings were a result of a man who I had only one conversation with.

"Good evening, Iris." He said, the smile still on his face as he walked the short distance to where I stood. To my surprise, he pulled me in for a hug. It was surreal because one minute, I was standing and the next, I was being wrapped in his arms and his scent was all around me. He smelt spicy and woody like cinnamon and cedar.

"How have you been?" He asked after he had pulled away from me.

"I am good. How about you?"

"I am doing okay."

"To what do I owe this visit?" I ask as I walk towards where the couch is to take a seat. He followed suit and sat beside me.

"I am not going to beat around the bush, I will cut to the chase. I want to marry you." He said casually. I looked at him for a while, before I burst into a heavy fit of laughter.

"You're so funny," I said still laughing heavily. Julian only stayed there, looking at me with a serious expression on his face.

I stopped laughing. "I am being serious, Iris. I want to marry you."

"Why would you want to marry me? We don't even know each other that well. This is the second time we are meeting, for goodness' sake!" I exclaimed.

"What does that matter? I felt drawn to you the moment I saw you at my party. I want you." He said with so much seriousness, I didn't even know how to respond to that.

"What happened to 'I don't believe in romance and happiness ever after are myths'?" I said in a mocking imitation of his voice.

"I changed my mind." He said simply as though it was the normal thing in the world, for someone to not believe in love one day and then automatically change their perspective the next.

"You can't just change your mind from things like that."

"Yes, I can. I want to marry you and both of our families are on board. I've been talking to your father about it for a while and he has given us his blessings."

"Oh wow! You all have been discussing my life without me for the past two weeks?" I got up and moved away from him, very much angry now.

"It's not like that. I just wanted to make sure everything was in place before I got you on board." He said, standing up too.

"I am going to have to think about this. Which is very gracious of me because this is not something I am supposed to be considering."

"What is there to think about? We had a spark from the moment we met, you can't tell me you didn't feel it too."

"We aren't even in love with each other for God's sake," I muttered.

He took both my hands in his. "People don't always fall in love before they get married, they fall in love after."

He had a point, but still, the whole idea of it was crazy. But what was crazier was the fact that I was even considering it. The fact that idea of marrying this handsome man who was practically a stranger to me was not nearly as scary as I needed it to be.

"Give me a few days to think about it," I said finally.

"I'll be back in a week. And while you are thinking, think about this too." He said before pulling me in for a kiss. I was shocked at first, so I didn't kiss him back, but then the initial shock gave way to the sweet feeling of his soft lips on mine and I found myself kissing his back.

The kiss was too short and was over before I wanted it too. "I want to marry you, Iris. I hope you say yes."

"What if I don't say yes?" I asked breathlessly still recovering from the kiss we just shared.

"Then you will be breaking a lot of hearts. Everybody wants us married, but nobody wants it more than me."

I couldn't help but smile at his statement, I wanted to say yes, there and then. I mean, it wouldn't hurt to be impulsive for once, but I knew it was the adrenaline rush from the kiss that was talking and I needed to think with a clear head before I decided, especially one that could change my life forever.