Taming the Takeover Tycoon. Robyn Grady
“Give me a month,” she said, “and I’ll change your mind about dismantling Lassiter’s assets.”
Interesting. “So you think I’ll win this takeover battle?”
Becca lifted her chin. “Four weeks.”
“On one condition.”
What the hell. “I’d rather show you.”
He slid a hand around her waist and drew her in as his mouth dropped over hers.
* * *
Taming the Takeover Tycoon is a Dynasties: The Lassiters novel— A Wyoming legacy of love, lies and redemption!
ROBYN GRADY was first contracted by Mills & Boon in 2006. Her books feature regularly on bestsellers lists and at award ceremonies, including the National Readers’ Choice Awards, the Booksellers’ Best Awards, CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Awards and Australia’s prestigious Romantic Book of the Year.
Robyn lives on Australia’s gorgeous Sunshine Coast, where she met and married her real-life hero. When she’s not tapping out her next story, she enjoys the challenges of raising three very different daughters, going to the theater, reading on the beach and dreaming about bumping into Stephen King during a month-long Mediterranean cruise.
Robyn knows that writing romance is the best job on the planet and she loves to hear from her readers! You can keep up with news on her latest releases at www.robyngrady.com.
For Penny and Gracie,
Two very cool ladies. xoxo
The Robin Hoods of this world were Becca’s heroes. As she watched Jack Reed strike a noble pose then draw back and release an arrow that hit dead center of his target, the irony wasn’t lost on her.
Jack Reed was no Robin Hood. He was anathema to everything she stood for. To every living, breathing thing she believed in. Beyond all else, people ought to give back—even sacrifice—to support others who need help. Some mistook that level of compassion for weakness, but Becca was far from easy prey.
Looking GQ-hot in jeans and a white button-down, cuffs folded back on strong forearms, Reed lowered the bow and focused on his guest. The slant of his mouth was so subtle and self-assured, Becca’s palm itched to slap the smirk off his face. She might have done it, too, if she thought it’d shake him up some. But it was said displays of true emotion only amused him.
Jack Reed owned a property in his hometown of Cheyenne, Wyoming, as well as two residences here in L.A.: an ultramodern penthouse apartment in a downtown high-rise building that he’d purchased as well as this spectacular Beverly Hills estate. With a quiver slung across his broad back, he sauntered over the manicured lawn to meet her. Although he was expecting her visit, Becca doubted he would welcome what she had to say.
She introduced herself. “Becca Stevens, director of the Lassiter Charity Foundation.” She nodded at the target. “A perfect bull’s-eye. Well done.”
“I took up archery in college,” he said in a voice so deep and darkly honeyed, the tone was almost hypnotic. “I try to squeeze some practice in every week.”
“Difficult with your schedule, I imagine.” All that dismantling of companies and banking the proceeds had to take up oodles of time. “I appreciate you seeing me.”
His smile, designed to disarm, got bigger. “Any friend of J.D.’s is a friend of mine.”
“If J. D. Lassiter were alive, he might not count you as a friend at the moment.”
The smile widened more. “Straight for the jugular, Ms. Stevens?”
Given Jack Reed was a highly successful corporate raider, he ought to be used to the approach. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“I only want to help Angelica Lassiter reclaim what she rightly deserves.”
Becca let out a humorless laugh and then sighed. “Ah, sorry. Just the idea of someone like you being in any way self-sacrificing...”
His gaze sharpened. “Angelica was J.D.’s only child.”
“You’re forgetting Sage and Dylan.”
“They are Ellie Lassiter’s orphaned nephews, adopted after J.D. and Ellie had been told by doctors—”
“I know the background, Jack.”
“Then you’ll also know that Angelica, J.D.’s own flesh and blood, was his favorite—that he’d entrusted her with the running of Lassiter Media those crucial months before his death. It makes no sense that his will should insult her with a paltry ten percent while controlling voting interest of J.D.’s multibillion-dollar company goes to Angelica’s ex-fiancé—” Jack paused for effect “—even if J.D. had handpicked Evan McCain for his daughter.”