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King's Price
Jackie Ashenden


His marriage deal…Her sexual awakening!Unscrupulous businessman Leon King is going legit. A calculated marriage to the daughter of a wealthy Sydney philanthropist could help redeem his family’s reputation. But Vita Hamilton has her own scandal to shake: a decade-old sex tape that still haunts her. Getting emotionally involved with Vita will cost Leon dearly. With their intense sexual connection, is it a price this King is willing to pay?







His marriage deal...

Her sexual awakening!

Unscrupulous businessman Leon King is going legit. A calculated marriage to the daughter of a wealthy Sydney philanthropist could help redeem his family’s reputation. But Vita Hamilton has her own scandal to shake: a decade-old sex tape that still haunts her. Getting emotionally involved with Vita will cost Leon dearly. With their intense sexual connection, is it a price this King is willing to pay?

“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”

—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author


JACKIE ASHENDEN writes dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr Jax, two kids and two rats. When she’s not torturing alpha males and their gutsy heroines she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband. To keep up to date with Jackie’s new releases and other news sign up to her newsletter at jackieashenden.com (http://jackieashenden.com).


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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


King’s Price

Jackie Ashenden






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07142-0

KING’S PRICE

© 2018 Jackie Ashenden

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Cover (#ue3cd2f8f-994a-5243-a303-0416ce1b3b1f)

Back Cover Text (#ue75ba781-68c2-5793-97a6-6c62f57847fd)

About the Author (#ub4cf7616-74a6-5956-b609-80eaa6e88623)

Booklist (#uababf975-3fac-5c23-b43a-3d837c390434)

Title Page (#u26154989-8b01-5612-9d68-ad7f796a8c06)

Copyright (#uebdddfa0-6721-508e-918c-83ad35a4bc09)

CHAPTER ONE (#u15a4a489-8d85-5077-aa2a-a07ff734e976)

CHAPTER TWO (#u9b4e9aca-8e54-5dfa-8e7f-b82c9f3dce8f)

CHAPTER THREE (#ua0be195d-0d89-594a-b9d8-a4c0c1743eca)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u9401d290-fb15-5e9d-8a7a-eccdaaceb047)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ua1a25257-d5f5-54be-b37d-1b0251f64dac)

CHAPTER SIX (#u80645be2-ba6a-5a06-9e56-ce00de23870a)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Leon


‘IT’S VERY SIMPLE.’ I kept my back to the office as I gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave magnificent views of Sydney’s impressive harbour. ‘I want your daughter.’

There was silence behind me.

Clearly, I’d shocked Thomas Hamilton—one of Sydney’s most beloved and lauded philanthropists—into silence.

Excellent. Keeping him off-balance until he’d agreed to my demands was half the battle.

‘What do you mean you want my daughter?’ he asked.

There was a hint of unsteadiness in his voice. It was very, very slight but I heard it, oh, yes, I did.

I said nothing, letting him stew, watching the yachts in the harbour and the ferry sailing towards Manly, the sunlight touching on the white curves of the iconic Opera House.

Christ, I loved Sydney. Bright and flashy and sexy, with a dark, dirty underbelly. My kind of town.

It was like looking at myself in the mirror.

Leon King. Second son of Augustus King, the erstwhile emperor of Sydney’s crime scene, now answering for those crimes in a maximum security correctional facility...aka prison.

Yeah, the King is dead. Long live the King.

Or should I say ‘Kings’?

The new Kings of Sydney were me and my two brothers, Ajax and Xander, and it wasn’t our father’s old empire we wanted to inherit, not when we were the ones who’d toppled it in the first place.

No, we were after redemption. Making good on the King name. Building something out of the ashes of the old empire. Going legit or some such bullshit.

At least that was what Xander and Ajax wanted.

Me, I was fine with going legit. Things were a hell of a lot easier if you didn’t have the cops interfering with your business, but it wasn’t redemption I needed.

I didn’t even particularly care about the King name.

I’d been my father’s lieutenant, the muscle at his back, and years of dealing out violence to other people had burned the fucks I had to give right out of me.

I’d been happy to be the bad guy back then and, five years after my father had gone to jail, I was still happy to be the bad guy.

It was a fresh start I wanted, in a city where no one knew who I was or who the Kings used to be. Where I didn’t have a past. Where I could be whoever and whatever I wanted to be, master of my own destiny. Where I could escape.

But before all of that, I had one last order to obey. A debt I owed to my oldest brother. And I was prepared to do anything to make good on it.

I turned from the view to the sleek minimalist room that was my office. We were in the tower that housed King Enterprises, the hugely successful property development company my brothers and I had formed out of the rubble of Dad’s empire.

Hamilton was sitting in the uncomfortable chair I’d positioned in front of my desk. He was an older man, silver-haired and blue-eyed, with that well-preserved look that only the very rich had.

Except he looked every bit of his sixty-plus years right now.

I tended to have that effect on people.

‘What do you think I mean?’ I gave him my very widest smile, the one that I was infamous for giving right before I was about to do some serious damage; nothing put someone off-balance like a smile right before you punched them in the face. ‘I want to marry her.’

Hamilton paled. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘Of course I’m bloody serious. I’d never joke about the sanctity of marriage.’

He stared at me, confused by my sarcasm and my smile.

Good. Let him stay confused. It would make it easier to close the deal.

‘But...why do you want to marry my daughter?’

‘I thought I explained.’ I adjusted the cuffs of my white cotton shirt, admiring the contrast with the dark blue of my suit and taking my time about it. Small movements right before the gut punch. Another way to play with an opponent, and I did love to play with my opponents. It was such a power trip. ‘My brother wants to expand the King portfolio into the luxury apartment market and we’re having difficulty getting investors.’

Hamilton nodded. ‘I understand that. But I still fail to see why marriage is necessary for that kind of expansion.’

‘It’s the name,’ I said. ‘No one wants to put money behind a King. Not with our past.’

A muscle twitched in the side of Hamilton’s jaw. ‘But you don’t need my daughter for that. Simply pay me the money you said you would, and I’ll mention to my friends that you’re a good bet and—’

‘If only it were that simple,’ I interrupted with a heavy sigh. ‘But sadly it isn’t. I need an...insurance policy, you see. In case you decide to renege on the deal or change it, or alter the terms.’

‘I would never do that!’ Hamilton looked incensed.

I didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t the do-gooding pillar of the community everyone thought he was, not when he was up to his eyeballs in debts from a gambling addiction he’d tried to keep secret.

Unfortunately for him, it was no longer a secret. At least not to me. I was good at finding dirt on people and I’d found plenty of it on him.

‘I don’t care what you would or wouldn’t do,’ I said coldly. ‘I need an insurance policy and your daughter is it. Plus, a few “introductions” to your friends is not enough. We need a total image overhaul.’ I paused to make sure he was with me. ‘Having Sydney’s biggest charity donor as my father-in-law will silence anyone who still has doubts about us. And hopefully set a few minds at ease about investing with King Enterprises.’

It had only been five years since our father had gone to jail but people’s memories could be long. Ajax, Xander and I had done very well to get where we were in that time, yet many viewed us and our intentions with suspicion.

We’d gone straight, but in some people’s minds we were still criminals.

A past like ours was difficult to escape—and I never would—but I’d do my bit to help my brothers escape.

Hamilton shook his head, but I continued. ‘You’ll put the word around that we can be trusted. Invite us to all the best charity parties, talk us up to your cronies, tell them the past is in the past, et cetera.’

‘You can’t possibly think that I’d—’

‘And in return,’ I interrupted, ‘I’ll pay your gambling debts.’

Hamilton’s mouth closed with a snap, his expression becoming sharper, more predatory. ‘Gambling debts?’

‘Come now, Tommy,’ I murmured, enjoying the spark of anger in his eyes at my patronising tone. ‘You’re neck-deep in the red at the moment. All those investments you thought would pay off that didn’t, all that tax evasion with those wonderful charities that isn’t as effective as it used to be. Or maybe you’re simply living beyond your means? Whatever it is, I can help.’ I gave him another smile. ‘All you have to do in return is give King Enterprises the big thumbs-up to your friends. Oh, yes, and your daughter as an insurance policy.’

This time Hamilton’s stare was much more assessing, as if he was weighing up a business decision. Which it was: my help in clearing his debts in return for assistance in the image department for the whole King family.

It was a win-win for everyone.

‘I have two daughters,’ Hamilton said at last, eyeing me.

Interesting. I only knew of the one who featured in all the society pages. Clara Hamilton. A pretty little socialite with a wealth of honey-blonde hair, big blue eyes and gorgeous tits. In other words, exactly my type, and I did like a society girl. It was funny how all their socialite ways would vanish once their clothes were off and I was inside them. How their dignity would crumble as they begged, as I made them scream my name.

On the outside they made a fuss about my past, about my links to my father’s crime empire, about all that nasty violence.

But on the inside, in the darkness of the bedroom, they loved it. That past thrilled them, got them off. Those girls loved a bad boy and I was as bad as it got.

Apart from Ajax. He was worse.

‘Give me the pretty one,’ I said.

Hamilton’s mouth twisted. ‘Clara isn’t—’

‘I can’t promise I won’t touch her, but I can promise I won’t hurt her.’ I didn’t mind a bit of pain with my sex, but I wasn’t a fan of forcing myself on anyone. Where was the fun in that?

But Hamilton didn’t like it. At all. ‘And if she says she doesn’t want to marry you?’

‘That’s your problem, not mine.’ I put my hands in my pockets, my posture relaxed. ‘Look, it’s not a life sentence. Tell her all I want from her is to pretend we’ve had a whirlwind romance and that she’s desperately in love with me. Then we’ll have a nice big society wedding and afterwards she can have my Darling Point mansion. I’ll be leaving the country so she’ll get it all to herself. In six months, once we’ve got some solid financial backing, she can send me the divorce papers and we’ll both go our separate ways, no harm, no foul.’

Hamilton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why the pretence?’

‘Appearances matter, Tommy,’ I pointed out. ‘Which you, of all people, should know. Wouldn’t do for it to look like a marriage of convenience now, would it? It’s a bit too mercenary. Not at all the image we want for the King name.’

‘Divorce so soon afterwards wouldn’t exactly project the right image either.’

‘It’s long enough to convince enough people it’s legit and, like I said, bag some investment dollars.’ I gave him a conspiratorial look. ‘It’ll be our little secret, hmm?’

Hamilton leaned an elbow on the arm of his chair and stroked his chin, acting like he was thinking carefully about it. But that gleam in his eye told a different story. He wanted my money and he wanted it desperately.

Perfect.

I remained standing, staying casual. Strange how being relaxed could put people on edge, but it did.

It was putting Hamilton on edge right now. I could see it in the tension in his shoulders and the way he was tapping one foot against the carpet.

I said nothing, letting the silence sit there, because silence could be a useful weapon to someone who knew how to use it. And I did. I was very good with weapons in general.

The silence lengthened, became oppressive.

Eventually, Hamilton shifted then said, ‘I’ll put the idea to Clara and see what she says.’

I shook my head. ‘You do want the money, don’t you? I mean, without it, you’ll lose everything. And think of the scandal if word got out about your little gambling problem. I don’t think you want that, do you?’

He shifted again. ‘Fine. I’ll make sure she’s on-board with the idea then.’

I was conscious of a slight loosening inside my chest, one that couldn’t and shouldn’t be relief, not when I’d been confident he’d agree to my request, yet felt like it all the same.

Ajax had given me responsibility for securing the King Enterprises’ potential expansion and I wanted to make sure I fulfilled that responsibility, especially given what I owed him.

Now it looked like that debt would be paid.

It was satisfying, I couldn’t deny it.

What a good little soldier you are.

But not for much longer. Once I was away from Sydney I’d get something I’d always been denied: the luxury of choice.

‘You do that,’ I said to Hamilton. ‘And if she has any issues with the marriage remind her that my house has a pool. Girls love pools.’

Slowly, Hamilton pushed himself out of the uncomfortable chair. ‘I do have a condition.’

My smile froze. ‘I’m not sure you’re in any position to demand conditions.’

‘Nevertheless, I have one.’ His gaze was very direct and very certain; he wasn’t going to back down on this. ‘You’re not to make contact with her before the wedding. And you’re not to touch her after it. It will be a marriage in name only.’

I almost laughed. ‘What? You don’t want my filthy King hands all over your precious daughter?’

He said nothing, but the look in his eyes was clear. No. He didn’t.

I raised a brow, playing with him because that was the fun part and I could never resist a show of power. ‘But what if she wants to put her hands on me?’

He flushed. ‘She won’t. She abhors you.’

‘Sure she does. When she doesn’t know me from Adam.’ I lifted a shoulder. ‘Not that I care. Like I told you, if she doesn’t want me I won’t force myself on her. But if she does...well...’ I grinned, just to mess with him ‘...I can make no guarantees.’

Hamilton’s expression became fixed. ‘She won’t. I can guarantee that.’

It was sweet how protective this pillar of the community was of his daughter. Except, again, I knew it was a sham. It was himself and the reputation of his family that he cared about, like all men of that sort. That and money. I’m sure if I’d offered him more cash he’d have had no problem with me claiming a wedding night from his precious daughter.

Unfortunately, though, telling me not to touch the girl only made me want to touch her even more.

I was perverse like that. Or a cliché—take your pick.

‘Sadly for you, not making contact with your daughter negates my need for a public love affair, which means I’m going to have to refuse your condition,’ I said, letting my grin fade, showing him steel instead. ‘You want my money then you give me the girl. That’s all.’

He didn’t like that, naturally enough, but, since he didn’t have the leverage, all he could do was bluster empty threats as I got Security to usher him out of my office.

As soon as the office door shut behind him I reached for my phone and hit Ajax’s number.

He answered with a curt, ‘Yeah, what?’

‘You’ll be pleased to know that Hamilton will give us his backing when it comes to finding investors for the new King Enterprises expansion,’ I said.

He grunted. ‘How? That prick didn’t want anything to do with us.’

‘Let’s just say I offered him a big incentive.’

‘What did you—? On second thoughts, I don’t want to know.’

‘You don’t,’ I agreed. ‘There’s one other thing.’

‘What?’

‘You need to offer me your congratulations, brother.’

‘Why?’

I turned to the view once more, my reflection staring back at me, the predatory smile on my face a reflection of the monster beneath the handsome prince. It didn’t scare me, that monster, not any more.

Your bride is going to get one hell of a shock, though.

Yes, she might.

I smiled wider. ‘Why? Because I’m getting married.’




CHAPTER TWO (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Vita


‘YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding.’ I stared at my father in shock. ‘You want me to marry who?’

Dad had that hard expression on his face, the one he always got when he wanted his own way. ‘Leon King, of King Enterprises. The one who—’

‘I know who he is,’ I interrupted, folding my hands in my lap so he wouldn’t see them shake. ‘The whole city knows the King brothers.’

Property developers who’d made a lot of money in a very short space of time. Ex-criminals, some would say. Still criminals, said others.

I had no opinion on the subject since it didn’t interest me. At least, it hadn’t interested me. Not until my father had called me—a shock in itself since I hadn’t had contact with either of my parents for about six months—and asked me to come to his downtown office for a meeting.

I hadn’t wanted to—I had a report I had to write for my job as a research assistant at Sydney University and the last thing I felt like doing was trying to pretend I still had a relationship with my family. But he’d insisted. Told me it was important. That it concerned my sister.

That I owed them.

He wasn’t wrong. I did owe them. In fact, I’d been waiting ten years for him to call in that debt, because I’d had no doubt at all that he would. And now he had it was a relief in many ways.

Except that he wanted me to marry some total stranger in place of my sister.

‘Why me?’ I tried to keep my voice calm and level because there was no point getting emotional. I’d learned that the hard way. ‘Did Clara say no?’

Dad moved around behind his massive oak desk and sat down, giving me the cold judgemental look he’d perfected over the years. ‘Not exactly. I haven’t told her about it.’

I blinked. This whole thing was getting weirder and weirder.

Odd enough that Dad had called me out of the blue to ask me to take Clara’s place and marry some criminal, but that he hadn’t even told Clara about it...?

‘You’re going to have to explain,’ I said carefully. ‘Because I don’t understand how you can not tell Clara. Or even why you’re asking me, for that matter.’

Dad was silent, staring at me as if weighing up what he wanted to say.

I stared back. If he thought I was going to fall in line, like Mum and Clara always did, he could think again. Years ago, he’d sent me away to an aunt up north and I’d gone without protest, finishing my schooling away from Sydney society and its far-too-bright lights, burying myself in the relative obscurity of a tiny town and concerning myself only with my studies.

But I wasn’t the same person now as I’d been back then. I wasn’t seventeen for a start, and I was happy out of the spotlight. In fact, out of the spotlight was where I wanted to stay.

I had a nice, quiet, comfortable life in the labs at the university, completely separate from my family. A life I didn’t particularly want to change.

‘Fine,’ he said after a moment. ‘I have some...debts that need to be paid and King has offered to pay them for me. In return, he wants my help with legitimising the King name.’ Dad paused. ‘And to do that he wants to marry Clara.’

Debts? I shoved that question aside for the moment.

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘How is marrying Clara going to legitimise the King name?’

Anger burned in my father’s blue eyes. ‘He and his brothers are looking to break into the luxury apartment market and they need investors. So he wants me to get the business community on his side—allay fears about their past, that kind of thing.’ Dad said the words as if they tasted bad in his mouth. ‘He thinks marrying Clara will help.’

I understood. Though their father had been imprisoned for his crimes years ago, the association still followed his sons around. Not that I knew much about them, aside from the fact that they were notorious for their cut-throat business practices as property developers.

The business world wasn’t my world anyway. I preferred science, the quiet atmosphere of the lab I worked in and the comparatively small power plays that were university politics. Not that I involved myself with those either. I kept to myself and I liked it that way.

‘I see,’ I said carefully. ‘It seems an extreme move to marry Clara in order to get a few investors. You can’t refuse?’

‘No.’ The word was flat. ‘I need that bastard’s money.’ He paused. ‘It’s either that or bankruptcy.’

I stared, shocked. ‘Bankruptcy? Seriously? Dad, what did you—?’

‘That’s not important,’ he interrupted. ‘The important thing is that he’s not going to get his dirty hands on Clara.’

The implication bolted like a small pulse of electricity down my spine, reactivating old hurts, making them echo.

Of course he’d never give up his precious Clara. He’s going to sacrifice you instead, the less important one...

I ignored the thoughts. I was over that now. My older sister led a life of parties and social gatherings and shopping, all funded by Dad, but it wasn’t a life I wanted. I’d found my place in the lab and I was perfectly happy there. I didn’t need him or anyone else to validate me.

‘Yet you’re okay with him getting his dirty hands all over me,’ I commented dryly.

Dad’s gaze flickered. ‘You’re stronger than she is, Vita. You always have been. You’ll be able to handle him. She won’t.’

Ten years ago I would have lapped up his praise. Nowadays, I knew better. He wasn’t praising me—he was manipulating me.

‘You’re assuming I’m going to say yes.’

His expression hardened. ‘You are. These debts must be paid. Including yours.’

It stung, no point in pretending otherwise. He’d always blamed me for what had happened all those years ago, even though, at seventeen, I’d had no idea what I was doing. I’d thought Simon had loved me. I hadn’t known he would film himself taking my virginity and put it up on the Internet, with commentary, for his friends to laugh at.

I hadn’t known that it would go viral and that soon everyone in the entire world would see it too—including my parents. There had been a media storm and some of the charities Dad did fundraising for and who sponsored Dad’s various business activities had withdrawn their sponsorship. Our family had been shamed and embarrassed socially, and it had taken at least six months before people had moved on to the next scandal.

The damage had been done, though. Dad’s business empire had teetered on the brink of bankruptcy and it had taken years for him to drag it back.

All because I’d been a seventeen-year-old girl who’d stupidly thought she was in love.

My fault. And Dad never let me forget it.

I looked down at my hands, clasped tightly in my lap. I had no answer to that and he knew it.

‘He won’t touch you,’ Dad said when I stayed quiet. ‘All you have to do is go through with the ceremony and live in his Darling Point mansion afterwards. He won’t even be there. He’ll be leaving the country. And in six months he’ll give you a divorce.’

And once you’ve done it your debt to the family will be paid.

That at least was true. If I did this for my father he couldn’t ask anything more of me, surely? I could go back to the private life I’d built for myself. Where I was good at what I did and I was confident in myself. Where I was the one in control.

‘You’ll get to keep the house, by the way,’ Dad added.

I kept my gaze on my hands. The dark blue polish I’d painted on them was chipping at the ends where I’d bitten them, a nervous habit I was trying to break.

I didn’t need a house. I lived in a terrace apartment near the university that Dad had bought for me and I insisted on paying the mortgage. My assistant wages were meagre and I was barely able to pay that and cover my living expenses at the same time, but I didn’t want any more debts than I had already.

A house in Darling Point, though. You could sell it. Pay Dad back with the proceeds...

No. I would pay my debts myself. My way. With my own money. I wasn’t going to depend on anyone else’s, no matter how much it was.

Money was never the answer anyway, even though lots of people thought it was. People like Dad.

‘I don’t want a house,’ I said flatly. ‘And I don’t want money. What I want is my debt to be cleared and never spoken of again.’

Dad sat back in his big black leather office chair and I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in his gaze, as if he’d been expecting me to say something different. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘If you do this, consider it cleared.’

‘You’ll stop holding it over my head for good?’

He gave a sharp nod. ‘We’ll never speak of it again.’

That was something.

You’re seriously considering this?

With an effort I managed to stop myself from shifting nervously in my chair, even though fear was winding tight inside me.

No. No fear. No emotion. Marrying a stranger was nothing. Merely a business proposition or an experiment. Or even trying out a new recipe. Sometimes it worked out and sometimes it didn’t, but it was nothing to get emotional about.

Nothing I needed to care about.

‘Does he know he’ll be getting me instead?’ I curled my fingers in tight to my palm to stop from lifting them to my mouth and nibbling on the ends.

Slowly, Dad shook his head.

We both knew why that was. No self-respecting playboy would choose me when he could have Clara.

‘He’ll be angry,’ I said.

‘He’ll have to deal with it.’

Dad’s expression had hardened, making the fear inside me tighten, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

Leon King would be angry. He thought he’d be getting curvaceous and beautiful Clara and he’d end up with...me.

Vita Hamilton. Tall and bony. No curves to speak of. Two aspirins on an ironing board. And those were the kinder things Simon had said about me in his commentary on the video. Other people had rushed in with worse comments about my thick gingery hair. My freckles. And...other things.

I shoved the memories away. My physical appearance wasn’t important and I’d been stupid to let all those comments get to me. It was my mind, my intellect that made me stand out and that, at least, I was proud of.

‘He might refuse to go ahead with it,’ I said.

‘He wants those investors, Vita.’ Dad’s expression was nothing but sure. ‘He’ll go through with it. Don’t worry about that.’

That...wasn’t exactly what I was worried about, though I wasn’t sure what I was worried about or why I was afraid.

I didn’t know Leon King so his opinion of me—if he had one at all—didn’t count. All I had to do was say the words, get the ring, live in his stupid house and then it would be done.

No big deal.

Except Leon King was newsworthy, and no doubt the media would be very interested if he suddenly turned up with a fiancée. Especially a fiancée like me.

There goes your nice quiet life.

My heart was suddenly beating fast and my palms were damp and sweaty. I gritted my teeth, reining in my flailing emotions and shoving them aside.

I needed to be cool about this. Logical. Practical. I was a scientist now, not a shamed and humiliated teenager that the entire world had seen naked.

I was stronger than that—much stronger.

There is a way out of this.

An idea opened up inside me like an elegant solution to a difficult research question, or the missing ingredient in a recipe I hadn’t managed to perfect.

Leon King wasn’t a man who’d appreciate being played the way my father was intending to play him. And he certainly wouldn’t be pleased to find out he’d be getting me, not Clara.

But what if I approached him myself and told him what my father was planning? What if I gave him a heads-up? He’d probably take one look at me, realise I was no Clara and decide he didn’t want to get married after all. There was the issue of Dad’s debts, but maybe he’d simply be happy to have Dad talk him up in return for paying those off. He didn’t need to marry me.

It might not work. Leon King was, after all, a notoriously ruthless businessman and I was simply a research assistant. But I was sure I could make him see reason. Once I explained it all logically, he’d understand.

‘Well?’ Dad said sharply. ‘Think of your sister. Are you going to do this for us or not?’

I lifted my gaze from my hands and met Dad’s. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘So, what do I need to do?’

He looked away. ‘Nothing at the moment. Just keep your head down until the big day.’

Of course I would.

After I’d let Leon King know exactly what was going on.




CHAPTER THREE (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Leon


‘SHE’S NOT HERE,’ Xander said, his clear, cold voice cutting through the hard beat of the nightclub’s music.

I ignored him, looking out over the heaving crowd and trying to figure out which of the blondes on the dance floor was Clara Hamilton. It was difficult to tell since there were a lot of blondes and the dim lighting made their faces hard to recognise.

We were sitting in the VIP area of Red Door, the city’s current nightclub du jour, and pretty little Clara was supposed to be here—at least that was what Hamilton had assured me. But, as my younger brother had so eloquently pointed out, she wasn’t.

Annoying.

I’d sent Hamilton an email detailing the number of dates Clara and I were to go on, the locations and what would be expected of her in order to make this look real. And he’d sent me a response letting me know that Clara had agreed to my terms and that she’d be there for the first date, tonight, at Red Door.

But I’d been here a good hour already and there was no sign of her.

I was beginning to wonder if good old Tommy Hamilton had lied and hidden his daughter from me. If so, there would be words to be had. A great many fucking words and none of them to his liking.

Xander sat opposite me, stone-faced as usual, his dark eyes glittering as the club’s lights flashed. It wasn’t his scene—he spent most nights holed up in his office since he was a total workaholic—so I was surprised he’d decided to come with me tonight.

‘Do you have a reason for being here?’ I asked. ‘Or is it to sit around pointing out stuff I’m already aware of?’

‘I wanted to meet her.’ He didn’t look at me, too busy studying the dance floor. ‘Make sure she’s no threat to us.’

‘She’s a pretty socialite, Xan. How much threat could she possibly be?’

His gaze met mine. ‘Some women are dangerous.’

He would say that since he was currently having issues with our stepsister, Poppy. As in he hated her and she hated him.

I grinned. ‘Relax, brother. She’s my beautiful bride. Of course she’s not dangerous.’

I’d given him the run-down of my plan, along with Ajax, and both of them were on board with it, though Ajax more than Xander. Ajax liked the idea of rubbing our status in the noses of those who’d once been our enemies, while Xander didn’t much care. He was all about the money and protecting our investments.

Xander snorted and looked away, studying the dance floor again.

‘Have a drink,’ I said. ‘In fact, have two. Maybe they’ll dissolve that stick currently jammed up your ass.’

Ajax would have told me to fuck off. Xander merely ignored me, then, without a word, pushed himself up off the couch and disappeared through the crowd, heading towards the bar.

Good. I could use some time to myself to figure out what to do about Clara’s non-appearance.

I sat back on the couch, reaching for the glass of very expensive single malt I preferred and, as I did so, I caught the gaze of a woman sitting at a table near the stairs to the VIP area.

She was staring very hard at me.

Stares weren’t unusual—I got them a lot, especially from women—but I never looked back unless the woman was worth a second glance. And this one wasn’t.

Yet I found myself looking back now, unable to put my finger on why. She definitely wasn’t my type. At all. She wore a close-fitting black dress, more suited to a funeral dinner than a nightclub, that highlighted a body that was all angles and no curves. Her dark hair had been drawn back unflatteringly tight against her skull, making her plain, sharp face seem even more disapproving than it already was.

She looked like an offended nun.

Why the hell was I staring at her?

Christ, I had no idea. Maybe it was the way she was staring at me: intense, direct. No blushing and looking away like some women did, or lowering her lashes and shooting me flirtatious glances from underneath them. No come-and-get-me smiles or looking past me, pretending she hadn’t been staring.

No, she simply stared. Then she slid off her stool and headed towards the stairs to the VIP area.

Shit. She was coming up here?

Intrigued despite myself, I watched her make her way to the top of the stairs and talk to the bouncer who was guarding the area. She pointed at me as she did so, an earnest expression on her face and, sure enough, the bouncer glanced at me then headed in my direction.

Interesting. What could this woman possibly want? Other than the usual. But then there hadn’t been anything flirtatious or sexual in her gaze. No, it wasn’t sex she wanted, I was sure.

‘Mr King?’ The bouncer came to a stop in front of my table. ‘There’s a woman here who wants to talk to you. She says it’s about Clara Hamilton.’

I stilled. Looked like my evening was about to get even more interesting.

‘Send her over.’ I glanced past him to where she stood, looking in my direction. There was a crease between her brows that disappeared as the bouncer signalled to her, then she started forward without hesitation.

Keen little thing, wasn’t she?

Though, as she got closer, it soon became clear she wasn’t little. Tall. Taller even than I’d thought at first and her heels weren’t exactly high. She moved with purpose too, as if she knew exactly where she was going and why.

‘Mr King.’ She came to a stop in front of my table. ‘Thanks for seeing me.’ Without waiting for me to reply, she held out her hand. ‘I’m Vita Hamilton.’

I made no move to get up or take her hand, settling for staring at her instead.

She had dark eyes, almost as dark as Xander’s yet without the black hole effect his had. Hers were very bright, as if there were tiny stars dancing in the depths. And she didn’t smile, merely pinned me with those dark, bright eyes, her hand held out steadily.

People didn’t hold my gaze for long. They didn’t like what they saw in it, especially when I smiled.

I stared right back. And grinned.

There was a tiny flicker of response, but that was it. She didn’t look away or drop her gaze. Or her hand.

Hell, that was...intriguing.

A woman of determination, obviously.

I leaned back in my seat, raising my glass and sipping again, pointedly ignoring her hand just to be a prick.

A flash of irritation crossed her face. Again, intriguing. People were too afraid to get irritated with me. Instead, they either got embarrassed or pretended whatever I’d said or done hadn’t happened.

Vita Hamilton didn’t pretend.

‘Well.’ Her voice was clear and bright like her eyes. ‘I was only trying to be polite. You don’t have to be rude.’

Was she reprimanding me?

Holy shit, she was.

Without waiting for a reply, she dropped her hand then sat down on the seat that Xander had vacated, opposite me, leaning forward and once again pinning me with that dark, starlit stare. ‘Now,’ she said seriously. ‘Like I said, my name is Vita Hamilton and I—’

‘I heard the first time, sweetheart,’ I interrupted. ‘You don’t have to say it again.’

She bristled, her mouth thinning in annoyance. ‘I’m not your sweetheart.’

That mouth... If the rest of her was sharp and angular, that mouth was not. It was full and very red and, like a particularly juicy apple, I wanted to take a bite out of it.

Maybe I would. Later.

I lifted my gaze to hers. ‘Since you’re only here with my permission, you’re whoever I want you to be.’

She sniffed, annoyance glittering in her eyes. That was different. Fear was the usual response to me, either that or sexual hunger. But I wasn’t getting either of those from her.

How fun. I hadn’t had a prim girl to play with in a long time.

‘Whatever,’ she said, clearly uninterested in flirting or any other kind of chit-chat. ‘I’m here to talk to you about Clara. I’m her sister.’

Well, that got me.

I gave her another once-over, trying to see the resemblance. Around the mouth maybe, but that was the only thing about her similar to Clara. The rest of her... She wasn’t at all like her pretty, curvy, sexy sister.

I took another long sip of my Scotch. ‘Perhaps you could tell me where she is then? She’s supposed to be here. With me,’ I added, just in case things needed clarifying.

Little Miss Vita didn’t blink or look away, which was strange when most people sensed what was beneath the mask I wore of the handsome, charming playboy. They could sense the predator, the shark beneath the surface of the beautiful blue sea. And, whether or not they knew what I truly was, they certainly feared it.

But not this woman. She either couldn’t see or sense my true self or...she wasn’t afraid.

A bolt of something electric, like lightning, went through me, making me go very, very still.

‘I don’t know where she is,’ Vita said, holding my gaze and not even flinching. ‘You’re supposed to be marrying her, though, aren’t you?’

Was she afraid? Did she really not see me?

I smiled wider, giving her a glimpse. ‘And?’

Again, not a blink. All I got back was another flicker of irritation. ‘Well, I’m here to warn you that you’re not.’ She hesitated only a fraction. ‘My father is planning on making you marry me instead.’




CHAPTER FOUR (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Vita


HE WAS LIKE a big cat about to pounce, and my heart started beating very loud and very fast in my ears.

Leon King was dangerous, that much I’d known from the moment I’d laid eyes on him. Very, very dangerous. And right now he was radiating that danger so intensely I could almost taste it.

It made me want to cower away like a frightened rabbit, but I was a professional woman of twenty-six and there was no way I was going to run so I kept staring at him instead, refusing to look away.

He was probably the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

His features were strong, with a high forehead, chiselled jaw and cheekbones to die for. His eyes were a smoky amber, framed by thick dark lashes and straight dark brows and his hair was tawny, threads of gold and caramel gleaming in the nightclub’s dim lighting. Those flashes of gold looked like someone had taken a paintbrush to him and gilded his features.

He wore a white business shirt beneath his dark blue suit and it was open at the neck, exposing golden skin. And he sat there, all sprawled and lazy like a lion sunning himself on a rock.

A predator pretending not to notice its prey, as it readied itself to lunge.

That amber gaze was on mine and the air of danger around him was so thick I could barely breathe. The primitive fight or flight response was kicking in now, urging me to run, but I ignored it.

It was simply a chemical reaction and, as a chemist, I knew all about those. The danger wasn’t real so I stayed exactly where I was, determined to show this rude asshole I wasn’t intimidated.

‘I think you’d better explain, sweetheart.’ His voice was deep and rich and vaguely hypnotic. ‘Why is your father planning a bait and switch?’

I ignored the sweetheart thing. He was only doing it to get a rise out of me, I was sure. ‘Because he doesn’t want you to marry her.’ I didn’t add the fact that it was because I was more expendable. It certainly wasn’t about me being stronger than Clara, that was for sure.

‘Uh-huh.’ Leon King’s stare was absolutely relentless and completely terrifying. The smile that curved his beautiful, sensual mouth even more so. ‘You’re telling me this, why?’

That caught me off-balance. I thought he’d be angry about it and yet... I didn’t see anger in his dark golden eyes. No, it was worse. There was nothing in his eyes at all. Absolutely nothing.

I tried to get my thoughts together. ‘I’m telling you because I thought you’d want to know. And because...’ I steeled myself ‘...I thought that if you knew, maybe you’d change your mind about this marriage business.’

‘Right.’ He said the word slowly, drawing it out. ‘This marriage business...’ Raising his glass, he took another sip of the liquid, his movements unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. ‘And why would I change my mind?’

I blinked, nonplussed and not sure what to say. ‘You wanted Clara. And instead you’ll get me.’ Surely he’d see he wasn’t exactly getting a bargain? ‘You can’t be happy with that. Anyway, I know you’re only marrying her to get what you want for your company.’ I leaned forward, keen to make him see reason. ‘Which makes it pretty simple. All you have to do is pay Dad the money you were going to and he’ll make his friends invest or whatever it is you want them to do. There’s no real need to marry her or anyone, in fact.’

‘You’re assuming that’s the only reason I wanted to marry her.’ He smiled that terrifying smile. ‘But it’s not.’

A kind of foreboding settled in my gut.

Maybe I didn’t want to know his real reason. Before I’d ventured into the city to find him I’d done a bit of research into him and his background, and what I’d found was every bit as terrifying as his smile.

His father had once run the biggest crime network in Sydney. Guns, prostitutes, drugs... You name it, Augustus King had been into it. And Leon had been part of that network, enforcing his father’s word as law. At least until he and his two brothers had taken their father down. They’d been granted immunity from prosecution—likely in return for testifying against their father—and had spent the last five years building up King Enterprises, their property development firm.

He was supposed to be going straight, but that smile of his told another story. A story I probably wouldn’t like.

‘Go on,’ he murmured when I didn’t say anything, watching me from over the rim of his glass. ‘Ask me what my other reason is.’

I wanted to refuse, but the scientist in me wouldn’t let it go. ‘Okay, so what’s your other reason, then?’

‘I don’t trust your father, sweetheart. I need an insurance policy. Something to make sure he keeps his word, if you understand me.’ He smiled yet again. I wished he’d stop doing that. ‘Clara was supposed to be my insurance policy. Sure, I would have preferred her but...’ His gaze dropped, running over me. ‘You’ll do. Yes, you’ll do very nicely indeed.’

At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. Since the sex tape crap had hit the media and I’d hidden myself away, I’d cut men out of my life for good. I’d had less than no interest in them or dating, or any kind of relationship at all in fact.

I had good working relationships with my male colleagues, but I made sure to keep them at a distance. All my colleagues. I didn’t want anyone knowing about me. I didn’t want anyone interested in me. And for ten years that had worked well.

Yet the way Leon King was looking at me, so blatantly sexual... No one had looked at me like that in a long time, if ever. But what was even worse was the sudden wave of heat that licked over my skin in response. Like I’d been caught in the backdraught of a wildfire.

It was so intense I looked away despite all my determination not to, my cheeks getting hot.

Hell. I was blushing. When was the last time that had happened?

Pretending I was studying the crowd and not avoiding his gaze, I said, ‘I don’t want to marry you. Insurance policy or not.’

‘Why not?’

The question irritated me. Was he stupid? Did he really not know?

I steeled myself yet again to meet his dark golden eyes. ‘Why do you think? I don’t even know you.’

He gave an elegant shrug. ‘So?’

‘What do you mean “so”? You’re a complete stranger.’

‘Why does that matter? Complete strangers marry each other every day.’ He tilted his head, the lights striking deep gold from his hair, his gaze gleaming. ‘I presume your father told you that you’ll get my house. Plus I can throw in some more money to sweeten the deal.’

‘I don’t want your house and I don’t want your money,’ I said flatly.

‘Sex then. You can have me.’ That smile lost its edge, became warmer, which somehow made it seem even more terrifying than before. ‘I assure you I’m worth it.’

He was so damn arrogant that I should have laughed. If he’d been another man, I would have. But again that strange heat licked up inside me at the words, a pull deep inside.

Yes, and remember what happened last time you felt that?

Shame. Humiliation. Pain.

No, I shouldn’t think of that. Chemicals, that was all this reaction was. Serotonin. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Nothing more.

‘No.’ I put every ounce of denial I could into the word, sitting up straight and tall to show him I meant business. ‘I don’t want you either.’

He laughed, a soft sound that made me shiver. ‘Then maybe your poor father doesn’t get his money.’

‘Why not? You’d really pull out just because I won’t marry you?’

He gave another shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal. ‘I’m not risking my money to your father’s promises, not without some guarantee.’

Dammit.

I shifted on the chair then rubbed my temples with one hand. The relentless beat of the music was giving me a headache and this was...not going like I’d planned. I’d thought he’d be a typical man, only concerned with having the beautiful trophy woman on his arm. But apparently he was different for some reason. Which was irritating.

Tell him it’s all off. Leave Dad to get out of this one himself.

I could. Except then the debt I owed Dad would still be there, hanging over my head. He’d got me away during the media storm, tried to cover my tracks and get rid of that recording. All the while facing the bankruptcy that I’d caused. I did owe him something.

Leon watched me, his gaze a searchlight uncovering all kinds of things I’d prefer to keep hidden.

‘What, exactly, is your problem?’ he asked. ‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, and at the end of six months you can have my house and a divorce. I’ll be leaving the country after that anyway. You’ll barely see me.’

He made it sound so reasonable. Why was I balking? I didn’t have any particular beliefs around marriage and love wasn’t real anyway. So what did it matter?

‘I don’t like...the attention,’ I said lamely, settling on the most logical reason for my reluctance. ‘I’m not comfortable being in the spotlight. And marrying you will draw attention.’

‘Of course it will. I want it to.’ His gaze wandered over me again and I felt my skin prickle in response. ‘I want people to think we’re in love, not that I married you purely to get an in with your father.’

Well, Dad had not mentioned anything about a love affair.

‘But that’s why you are marrying me,’ I pointed out.

‘Well, yes. I just don’t want other people to know that.’

‘Why not? Why should you care?’

He gave another of those soft laughs, his eyes gleaming. ‘The King family has changed, Miss Hamilton. We’re not the criminals everyone seems to think we are, not any more. And what better way to illustrate that than for one of us to fall desperately in love and marry a good woman from a very good family?’

‘Not to mention getting investors for your company’s expansion,’ I said dryly.

‘That too.’ He swirled the liquid in his glass. ‘It’s a multi-layered, complicated problem. I wouldn’t think too hard about it if I were you.’

Was that a not-so-subtle dig at my intelligence? ‘Not to worry my pretty little head, you mean?’

He shrugged, his gaze guileless, and didn’t answer. ‘Did you know I was supposed to be meeting Clara for our first public date tonight?’ he asked instead. ‘She didn’t turn up, but you did.’

Public dates? Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about public dates.

Because he knew you’d refuse.

‘I didn’t know Clara was supposed to be here,’ I snapped, freshly annoyed at my father all over again. ‘Dad didn’t mention it to me. And I’m certainly not here to be her stand-in either.’

‘Clearly not.’ He tilted his head. ‘What have you got against a bit of attention, though?’

Great. That was all I needed. To drag up what had happened to me ten years ago. I didn’t want to talk about it and I especially didn’t want to talk about it to him.

‘I just don’t like it,’ I said.

‘Bullshit. Must be something pretty bad for it to involve coming to talk to me personally.’

Dammit. My options were either lying or simply not answering the question, but I was hopeless at lying and I had a feeling he wasn’t the type to simply drop a subject.

Hiding it wasn’t an option either, not when a quick search on my name would bring up the video. No matter how hard Dad had tried to scour it from the Internet, he hadn’t been able to. The Internet was for ever and so was my video.

He’ll see it if you tell him.

My jaw tightened. Well, everyone in creation had seen it, so why should I care if he did? Possibly he already had.

‘Google my name and you’ll find out.’ I lifted my chin and folded my hands in my lap so I wouldn’t be tempted to bite on my nails.

He gave me a long, silent, assessing look. Then he put down his glass and reached into his pocket, bringing out his phone.

I opened my mouth to tell him that he should wait until I wasn’t around at least. But his long fingers were already moving over the screen and a moment or two later he lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at me.

I blushed again, the old feelings of humiliation and shame washing over me, but I shoved them away. I wasn’t that girl in the video, not any more.

Instead, I stared, daring him to say a single word.

He merely lifted one dark brow. ‘So you had a sex tape drama. Who hasn’t?’

Was he being flippant? I couldn’t tell.

‘But you can see why I don’t want any kind of public attention. I don’t want anyone dragging that up again.’

‘You’re thinking about this all wrong, sweetheart.’ Casually, he dumped his phone on the table then sat back against the couch, lifting his arms along the back. ‘You could hide away for ever, afraid of all that coming back up again. Or you could go for a little revenge.’

It was not what I’d expected him to say.

‘Revenge? What do you mean revenge?’

‘A hot guy slept with you and humiliated you. And millions saw it. What better revenge than to show those millions of people another guy falling for you? Incredibly handsome, sickeningly rich.’ He gave another smile, utterly and completely charming, and not at all modest. ‘Notorious. Not a man anyone would mess with. Yet you’d have him wrapped around your little finger.’

The words slid under my skin in a way I wasn’t comfortable with. Revenge wasn’t what I wanted. Oblivion was, and I didn’t want anything to disrupt that. And yet...

‘I’d already planned some dates with Clara,’ he went on, that rich, deep voice of his winding around me. ‘Nothing major, just a few public outings to show people we’re in love. And then a big wedding to top it all off.’ His voice deepened, became softer. ‘Yes, it’s attention. But this time you get to call the shots. And it ends with you getting everything. The wedding, the mansion, the money.’ He paused, gold glimmering in his eyes, his smile making me feel hot, even though I wasn’t. ‘And, of course, you get the man.’

My instant response was to tell him no, that I didn’t care. I’d got past what had happened to me and what I wanted was to go back to my obscure life and carry on as if none of this had ever happened.

You could do that. Or you could rewrite your own story. And this time with the ending you want.

The thought hit me hard.

Back when I was seventeen, being Clara’s tall, gangly stick of a sister had been tough, and I’d longed to be like her. Pretty and curvy, popular with all the boys. I’d been an easy mark for Simon. Desperate for attention, insecure, a prime target for his manipulation. And he had manipulated me. He’d made me think he wanted me, that he loved me.

Then he’d used me, humiliated me, and all because he’d wanted my sister and she’d refused him. I’d been his revenge on her, too naive and stupid to understand what he was doing.

So, in a way, Leon King was right. This would be a perfect kind of revenge. And it would be my choice. Something I could do for myself.

Slowly, I let out a breath and looked at him. ‘So...when you say a few public dates, how many are we talking here?’




CHAPTER FIVE (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Leon


I HAD HER. Definitely I had her and a good thing too.

Satisfaction swept through me. Yes, Clara would have been preferable and I was pissed off at Hamilton for trying to pull a bait and switch, but fundamentally I didn’t much care which sister I married.

It was the marriage itself, the connection to the Hamiltons and the image it projected that I was concerned about.

Vita Hamilton wasn’t beautiful. But she’d do.

Besides, the way she’d kept looking at me intrigued me. How she hadn’t been afraid and how she’d refused me—and no one ever refused me. Or at least they didn’t without risking the consequences.

But she had. And it had been a challenge I hadn’t been able to resist.

Five years ago I would have answered that challenge with force. Not physical—not with a woman—but I’d have considered that sex tape information the perfect way to blackmail her into doing what I wanted.

Maybe I would have had to resort to that if she hadn’t agreed, but she had. And I had to admit that there was something sweet about her choosing me without the need for coercion.

She sat on the edge of the chair, her head tilted slightly, watching me with those bright eyes. Like a cautious bird or a curious fox. No, definitely more fox than bird with that undercurrent of auburn in her brown hair.

That was fine. She could be a little fox. But there was no doubt as to who the dominant predator here was. Me. And she knew it. I hadn’t missed how she’d looked away earlier when I’d let my gaze run over her, or how she’d blushed. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she wasn’t as immune to me as she acted.

‘How many dates?’ I took another long, slow look at her body to see if I’d get the same reaction. ‘I had three or four planned so far.’

The swell of her breasts was tantalising beneath the black fabric of her dress. They were small and round, a perfect fit for my hand. The rest of her was difficult to see from the way she sat, but her legs would be long and no doubt they’d wrap perfectly around my waist. Or drape over my shoulders...

‘But they’d be in public?’ She held my gaze, determined to show me how unbothered she was by the way I was looking at her.

She didn’t fool me, however. Even in the dim light of the nightclub I could see how she was blushing. Christ, did she really think I wouldn’t notice?

I watched as the stain of red crept down the delicate arch of her throat to the neckline of her boring black dress. ‘Not much point otherwise.’

She shifted on the edge of her chair and at last dragged her gaze from mine. Her hand half lifted, her finger nearly at her mouth before she put it back down in her lap again. Her nail polish was chipped. A nail-biter perhaps?

‘What kind of dates are we talking about?’ She gave the crowd a leisurely survey before glancing back to me again. ‘Going to the movies? That sort of thing?’

I grinned, letting her know that I’d caught her small nervous movement and how she’d had to look away. That I knew I was getting to her. ‘The movies? No, sweetheart. Think bigger.’

Her dark reddish brows arrowed down, the lights in her eyes flickering with irritation. ‘Don’t call me sweetheart.’

I was definitely getting to her. How satisfying.

‘You don’t like sweetheart?’ I asked mildly.

‘Not when my name is Vita.’

‘Sure, but you’ll be my fiancée. You need a pet name.’

Her mouth tightened. ‘I don’t want a pet name.’

‘Too bad, you’re getting one.’ I was being a prick, but I hadn’t had anyone this delicious to play with for years and I was going to enjoy the hell out of it. ‘You can choose which, though. If you don’t like sweetheart, your other choices are “baby”, “little girl”, “honey”, “darling” or “sweet cheeks”.’

She glared. ‘I don’t want you to call me any of those things.’

‘Hey, I’m all for equal opportunities. I don’t mind a pet name for myself. “Stud” or “big boy” is fine. I don’t mind “hot stuff”. My preference, though, is for “sir”.’

Her frown deepened. ‘Stop playing with me. I don’t like it.’

So. A woman who didn’t play games and had no interest in playing them either.

Disappointing. Still, her honesty and directness were refreshing. And, being the perverse bastard I was, they made me want to play with her even more.

Maybe I’d save that for later, though. Now I’d got her agreement to the marriage there was no point risking that for a bit of fun.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘No games. As to the dates, I’ll send you the details later. But fair warning. There will be press involved. My aim is to show the entire world we’re in love.’

Another flicker of emotion crossed her face at the mention of the press and it looked like trepidation. Not that I could blame her. I’d only had a cursory look at the first couple of results of that search on her name, but that sex tape looked like it had been a major scandal. Seventeen was a hell of an age for that sort of attention, especially when that attention was the wrong kind.

‘But I get to say what happens on them, right?’ The trepidation had vanished, her expression becoming more concentrated, fierce almost.

Ah, yes. I had said something like that, hadn’t I?

A thread of unease wound through me. I wasn’t good at taking orders, never had been, even when my father had been the one giving them. Plus, I hated the thought of relinquishing control of a situation to someone else.

Then again, there were ways around that. Topping from the bottom, and all that.

‘Revenge,’ Vita said suddenly, as if she could sense my discomfort and was hoping to exploit it. ‘That’s what you told me. I could rewrite my own story, this time with me calling the shots.’

Shit. Little vixen was good at sniffing out a weakness, wasn’t she?

Not that it mattered. It was only a couple of dates, holding hands and some kissing. Maybe more than kissing depending on the situation. And if she didn’t want that, then so what? I wasn’t attracted to her anyway.

Yet... The devil inside me found her fascinating. It wanted a reaction from her, some kind of response, and I didn’t care that she wasn’t my type.

I was a predator who wanted the chase and who knew she’d put up one hell of a fight in the end.

‘Yes,’ I said, already thinking about how I could turn this to my advantage. ‘You get to call the shots.’

She gave a nod as if she’d been expecting me to okay it all along. ‘All right then. I agree to marry you. But only on the condition that whatever happens in public is directed by me.’

I waved a hand. ‘Be my guest.’

‘So what happens after the wedding?’

‘We’ll have a couple of months of blissfully happy marriage so my brothers and I can get as many investors on board as we can, and then I leave the country.’

Her hand lifted to her mouth again, and I was pretty sure it was an unconscious thing because she didn’t seem to be aware of it. ‘So, I have to live with you?’

‘Yes, you’ll stay with me at my house—don’t worry, it’s massive; you can have your own wing. You won’t even see me if you don’t want to.’

‘And then?’ She nibbled absently on the end of her nail.

Holy Christ, that mouth. I stared at the full, red shape of it. What if she had those lips wrapped around my cock instead of her own finger? Would she use her teeth? Dear God, I hoped so.

Why are you having fantasies about Vita Hamilton’s mouth?

I had no fucking idea.

‘Then, like I said, I leave the country.’ My voice sounded rough. Jesus.

She tilted her head, dark eyes on mine. ‘Why?’

I shifted, uncomfortably aware that my suit trousers were tighter than they’d been two seconds ago. ‘Why am I leaving the country? Because I am.’

‘Will you come back?’

‘No. Hence you getting the house. We’ll leave it six months, then sign the divorce papers and you’ll be free to go.’

She continued to nibble on her nail, frowning at me, as if she was working out a tricky problem in her head. ‘I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, right?’

‘Right.’ Though I could think of a couple of things I could convince her that she did want to do. Things involving that mouth. I was, after all, very good at convincing people.

‘Okay.’ Abruptly, she took her finger out of her mouth, much to my relief. ‘That’s all the questions I have for now.’ She reached for the small handbag she’d put down on the seat next to her, obviously getting ready to go.

Except I hadn’t finished.

We were in a nightclub and there were a lot of people around and, if I wasn’t much mistaken, a couple of columnists from the local gossip websites were propping up the bar. Which made right here, right now a prime opportunity to make our so-called relationship public. Plus, there was a small experiment I wanted to run. Just a test to...confirm something.

‘Excellent.’ I sat forward. ‘Give me your hand.’

She turned her head, giving me a wary sidelong look. ‘Why?’

‘You’re full of questions.’

‘I’m a scientist. Asking questions is what I do.’

‘A scientist?’ Diverted, I gave her another once-over. ‘You don’t look like one.’

‘Really?’ Her expression was scornful. ‘And what does a scientist look like?’

‘Blonde.’ I couldn’t resist playing with her. ‘Big tits. Glasses. Short white coat.’

‘No,’ she said flatly, refusing the bait. ‘Some scientists might look like that, but not the ones I know.’

‘Where do you work?’

‘In the university, in the labs. I’m a research assistant.’ The scorn faded from her voice, a note of pride entering it. ‘I have a PhD.’ She stared at me as she said it, like she was throwing down a challenge, though what she expected me to say I had no idea.

‘Smart, huh?’ I refused her bait as she’d refused mine. ‘I like a smart woman. You’ll have to tell me more on our next date.’

‘What do you mean next date? We haven’t even had one yet.’

‘Sure we have. This is our first.’ I reached out towards her. ‘Your hand, honey.’

‘Not honey.’

‘Sweetheart, then.’

‘I don’t want—’

‘Scared?’

Irritation rippled over her sharp little face. ‘I’m not falling for that.’

‘You know what they say, darling. You have to stand for something or else you’ll fall for anything.’

If she could have growled at me she would have, I’m sure.

Instead, she let out an annoyed breath. ‘Don’t make me regret this.’ Then she stuck out her hand.

I didn’t hesitate to take it or expect to feel anything when I did. Sure, I’d been fixated on her mouth and had thought about how her legs would feel wrapped around me, but I often thought those things about women. I was a man, after all, and not a very good one at that.

So I wasn’t prepared for the shock of raw electricity that jolted me the moment her long slender fingers touched mine. Or to see the same shock mirrored in the wide dark of her eyes.

She went still, the muscles in her arm tightening in preparation to jerk her hand away.

And I had one crystal-clear thought.

No. She wasn’t going to do that. Not here, not in full view of everyone. Not when this was the moment I’d chosen to reveal our relationship to the world.

So I closed my fingers around hers and held on.

She took a sharp breath.

Her skin was cool but it warmed against mine, and I didn’t think it was my imagination that the lights in her eyes flared briefly.

Yes, she felt this too.

I held her gaze in silent challenge. Then slowly I rose to my feet.

Her gaze was wary, watching me as if I was a dangerous animal she had to keep an eye on. It nearly made me smile.

Yes, keep watching, little vixen. You never know what I might do to you.

Keeping my fingers wrapped around hers, I moved towards the stairs that led out of the VIP area and down to the dance floor, tugging her with me.

She resisted at first but I didn’t pause, drawing her down the stairs and into the crowd.

‘What are you doing?’ she snapped as I stopped on the dance floor, a small space opening up around us, then turned to face her.

‘What does it look like?’ I gave her another tug, drawing her closer. ‘I’m going to dance with you.’

She blinked. ‘What? But I... I don’t know how to dance.’

Her wariness had been replaced with an adorable mixture of shock and confusion. And that was perhaps why she didn’t resist as I put my hands on her hips and drew her even closer, our bodies almost touching.

She was tall enough that I didn’t have to tilt my head to look down into her eyes.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said softly, staring into her bright, black gaze. ‘Just follow my lead.’

She blinked again and something hot and raw sizzled between us.

We were mere inches apart, the soft curve of her breasts nearly brushing my chest, the heat of her soaking into my palms where they rested on her hips. She wasn’t wearing any kind of perfume but I could smell her, a delicate musky scent with a floral hint.

It was delicious. It sent a bolt of pure lust straight to my cock.

Oh, pretending to be in love with her was going to be no hardship. No hardship at all.

I firmed my grip on her and a spark flared bright and brilliant in her eyes, making everything in me harden in anticipation.

I could kiss her right here, right now, and she wouldn’t protest. That beautiful mouth would open under mine and she’d taste so sweet, I just knew it.

But...perhaps not yet. It would be better to give her some time to get used to the idea of marrying me, not to mention get used to me getting close. It wouldn’t do to come on strong and frighten her away.

We were supposed to be madly in love after all.

So I didn’t kiss her. Instead, I let her go. ‘Perhaps we’ll leave it tonight then,’ I murmured, not bothering to explain. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

I smiled at her. Then I walked away.




CHAPTER SIX (#uacf83e4f-f369-5562-9e57-ac5943add40f)

Vita


LEON KING WAS a Grade A bastard.

The day after I’d met him in the nightclub and he’d forced me to dance he sent me a schedule of the dates he’d be taking me on, with times, not to mention the name of the wedding planner who’d be handling the wedding itself. There were dates attached to that too—he wanted the marriage to happen as soon as possible while at the same time generating the maximum amount of publicity.

Four weeks was enough time apparently.

And he hadn’t only sent the schedule to me; he’d sent it to my father as well. So now Dad knew that not only had I met with Leon King without telling him, I’d tipped Leon off about me being Clara’s stand-in.

Yet that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the link Leon had included with the schedule. A link that went to a page on some awful gossip website where there was a terrible write-up about Leon King’s new ‘love’. A photo accompanied it. A photo of him holding me on the dance floor just before he’d walked away.

I’d tried very hard to forget about the moment he’d held me close, his predator’s eyes watching me all the while. And I still didn’t know what had happened to me in that second. Why I’d let those big, warm hands of his rest on my hips and that tall, muscled body get close to mine.

It had been like I’d gone deaf, the beat of the music fading away, the crowds disappearing, everything lost in the dark gold of his eyes.

I’d just...forgotten I could move.

I’d forgotten I could breathe.

His nearness had been electric, my skin prickling all over, a strange restlessness coiling deep inside me, a heat that seemed to pool right down between my thighs.

It was as if he’d hypnotised me.

I didn’t know what it was in the end that made him walk away, but I was glad of it. Even more glad to get out of that damn club as quickly as I could.

What would you have done if he hadn’t let you go?

Nothing, of course. All that physical reaction was simply oestrogen reacting to testosterone, or pheromones or adrenaline, take your pick. None of that meant anything, and I should know since I still had the scars to prove it.

Anyway, the upshot was Dad not being pleased and I had to endure a speech down the phone about how irresponsible I’d been and how I’d put the whole plan at risk. I decided not to bother telling him I’d been trying to get Leon to drop the marriage thing to save us both, listening to him in silence instead then disconnecting the call without a word.




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