Defying The Billionaire's Command. Michelle Conder
stood up as she approached his desk and he enfolded her in his arms. ‘And you know I’d do anything for you.’
‘Yes, I know. And I appreciate it.’
Sensing a lingering sadness in her voice, Dare wondered if she was thinking about his father. Thinking about what a roller-coaster ride it had been with him right up until his death when Dare had just turned fifteen.
At best his father could be called a drifter chasing one dream after another in search of the big time, at worst he had been a conman with feet of clay. The only valuable lesson Dare had ever learnt from him was how to spot a con at fifty paces.
But it had been a good lesson that had helped Dare make more money than he could ever have imagined. And he had imagined a lot growing up in the poorest suburb in a small American town.
It had also stood him well when it came to relationships. For a while Dare had run with a rough crowd, but he’d soon learned that brothers were only brothers as long as you toed the line.
Since Dare didn’t like toeing anyone else’s line but his own, he kept to himself and trusted very few people.
Finding out when he was eighteen that his mother had an aristocratic lineage had only been interesting in that it had made Dare even more resentful of the family who had turned her away, thus forcing her to take three jobs just to make do. He’d never wanted to meet any of them and he still didn’t.
But meet them he would and it wouldn’t be tomorrow when his mother turned up for lunch. It would be today. This afternoon.
If Benson Granger thought he could insinuate himself into Dare’s mother’s life for any reason other than an altruistic one, he had another think coming.
And while it wasn’t at all convenient to take a trip to Cornwall that afternoon, it would give him a chance to take his new toy out on the open roads.
Dare smiled, but it wasn’t the charming, devil-may-care smile that made women swoon and men envious. It was a hunter-with-his-prey-in-his-sights smile, and for the first time since his mother had given him the disturbing news Dare thought he might actually enjoy setting his grandfather straight on a few things.
* * *
The locals at Rothmeyer village said that the summer they were having was the best in the last thirty years. Warm, balmy days, and light, breezy nights straight out of a Beatrix Potter fable.
Up at Rothmeyer House, the grand estate that bordered one side of the village, Carly Evans braced her spent arms on the edge of the deep blue swimming pool and hauled her tired body out of the water.
‘Whoever said they got an endorphin rush out of exercise was either lying or dead,’ she muttered to no one but the Baron’s Pekinese, who snapped at passing insects as he lay like an untidy mop in the shade of the terrace.
Carly had been doing laps of the pool and jogging during her free time at Rothmeyer House since she’d arrived three weeks ago and she’d yet to feel anything other than exhausted and sore.
Not that she should be complaining on a day like today. Or any day. Working as the elderly Baron Rothmeyer’s temporary doctor had been a real coup. Not only was the location spectacular, but, due to the Baron having to undergo a life-threatening operation in two weeks, it was also live-in. As in, living in the main house, live-in.
But the job would be over soon and she’d have to move on. Which was fine with Carly who, much to her parents’ distress, had become something of a wandering gypsy this past year.
She pulled a face at the thought and squeezed water out of her long red hair, flicking it back over her shoulder. She was about as much like a gypsy as a nun was a circus performer, and up until a year ago she had led a very conventional life as a hard-working doctor in one of Liverpool’s best hospitals.
That was until the bottom had fallen out of her world and ruined everything.
Grabbing a towel, Carly briskly swiped at her face and body. She grabbed her phone and settled onto a lounger, determined that with the Baron gone for another few hours she was not going to waste her free time thinking about the past.
‘If you don’t face things,’ her father had said, ‘they become mountains instead of molehills.’
As far as Carly was concerned hers had started out as a mountain and when it became a molehill she might consider returning home. Which was just as hard for her as it was her loving family because at heart Carly was a homebody who loved her parents. And her sister.
A familiar lump formed in her throat as the past lurched into her consciousness.
To distract herself she grabbed her cell phone. She had one new email from her parents, who would no doubt be subtly trying to find out if she really was okay, one from her old alma mater, and another from her temp agency, Travelling Angels.
Clicking to open her work email, she read that they had another job lined up for her as soon as this one was finished and did she want it. Being one of only three fully qualified doctors on their roster, she had so far not been without work. Which was fine with Carly. Busy meant less time for contemplating past mistakes.
But she wasn’t ready to think about her next move yet so she closed that email and tapped on the one from her parents. Yes, there it was, the question of when they would see her next, and whether she’d made any decisions about her future.
Carly sighed and closed that email as well.
A year ago her beautiful, kind and gregarious sister had died of a rare and aggressive form of leukaemia. To add insult to injury, Carly’s über-successful boyfriend had been cheating on her instead of being by her side to support her.
Not that she’d really turned to Daniel for support during those months. Being an important cardiologist, he was generally busy and, if she was being honest with herself, their relationship had never been like that.
He had pursued her because he respected her and she had accepted his invitation to go out because she’d been flattered by his attention. Then Liv had become sick and everything had fallen apart. Daniel had become resentful of the time she spent with her sister, questioning her about her movements at every turn and accusing her of cheating on him and using her sister as a ruse.
No matter what she had said, he hadn’t believed her and then she’d discovered that in fact he had been the one cheating on her. On top of all that, everyone at her hospital had known about it and no one had said a word to her. The whole experience had been mortifying.
Feeling the sun burning into her skin, Carly yanked on a pair of cut-off denim shorts, dislodging the slender black velvet jeweller’s box that had arrived for her earlier that day.
Still not quite believing what was inside, she opened it and once more marvelled at the divinely expensive ruby necklace nestled against the royal blue silk lining.
‘To match your hair,’ the card had read, followed by a swirling signature that denoted the sense of importance Benson’s grandson, Beckett Granger, cloaked himself in.
Carly shook her head as she took out the necklace. For a start her hair was more orange than ruby red so if Beckett had thought to impress her with his cleverness he’d be disappointed.
If he thought to impress her with the amount he must have spent on it he’d be disappointed as well. Carly was too practically minded for lavish jewellery and still wore the diamond stud earrings her parents had bought her ten years ago, much to Liv’s disgust.
But she did have to give him points for his approach. The necklace was undoubtedly the most expensive attempt a man had ever made to get her attention and she’d had a few offers over the years. Some had been patients, or relatives of patients, others had been doctors—but Benson’s pompous grandson had taken the cake.
Even if she weren’t still getting over a bad relationship with a doctor with a God complex she would never have gone for Beckett. There was something a little bit slimy about the man. He also had a sense of entitlement