Defying The Billionaire's Command

‘Gregory, no,’ Carly shouted, rushing after him. The rabbits scattered, the largest—most likely the mother—dashing through the brush. Cursing the cranky dog for real now, Carly tried to keep pace with them. No way was he going to kill the mother rabbit on her watch.

In no mood to chase the Baron’s insubordinate dog, Carly didn’t hear the gunmetal-grey motorcycle bearing down on her around the bend in the driveway until it was too late. In what seemed like slow motion she realised that she wasn’t going to be able to stop her forward momentum in time and, irrelevantly, that she was going to die with Beckett’s silly necklace still gripped in her hand.

Half waiting for the sleek machine to barrel into her, Carly skidded on the gravel and landed on her bottom, rolling down the grassy embankment that ran alongside the road.

Winded, she lay unmoving, blinking dazedly up at the china-blue sky above.

She heard a choice curse word before a male head abruptly blocked out the light. The man was little more than a huge outline against the bright sun and then he went down on bended knee, leaning over her.

If she’d thought she was breathless before it was nothing compared to how she felt staring up into eyes so strikingly blue she could still have been staring at the sky. Combine those with chestnut hair that curled forward over his forehead, a square jaw, and strong nose and he had the kind of face Carly bemusedly thought she could look at for ever.

‘Don’t move.’ He had quite the voice too. Deep and low with just the right amount of authority to it. Which surely explained why she did exactly as he bade.

It wasn’t until his large hands ran down her arms and over her legs that she tore her eyes from the way his black leather jacket hugged his wide shoulders and impressive chest.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Checking if you’ve broken anything.’ The cold censure in his voice immediately put her back up.

‘Are you a doctor?’

‘No.’

She hadn’t really expected that he would be—she’d never met a doctor encased in black leather before. ‘I’m fine,’ she huffed, not really sure if she was but, heck, she was a doctor!

‘Keep still,’ he growled as she struggled up onto her elbows.

‘I said I’m fine.’ She pushed at his hand on her leg and he rocked back on his heels. Carly could feel her heart beating hard behind her chest as he silently surveyed her.

‘Good,’ he finally said, standing up so that he once again towered over her. ‘Perhaps you can explain what the hell you were doing running across the road like that. You could have been killed.’

Carly glanced at the sleek motorcycle waiting in the middle of the road like something out of a Batman movie. A flash of the motorcycle skidding in a graceful arc right before hitting her made her stomach pitch. The man had been riding that thing as if he were in the Indie 1000—or whatever that silly race was called—and now he wanted to make it her fault?

‘Really?’ she murmured pleasantly. ‘If I could have been killed it was only because you were driving like a maniac on a narrow, unpaved road.’

Dare gazed down at the redheaded goddess spitting fire at him from eyes that were too grey to be green and too green to be grey. Olive perhaps.

‘I was hardly driving like a maniac.’ He’d barely been pushing fifty.

‘Yes, you were and you were also on your phone!’

She said the last with wide eyes as if he’d been traversing a high wire at the same time.

‘Don’t get hysterical,’ he told her. ‘I wasn’t on the phone. I was checking my GPS.’ And in complete control the whole time.

‘You had a phone in your hand while you were on a motorcycle! That’s illegal!’

‘Calm down, would you? I handled it.’

‘Only just. And it’s still illegal!’

Dare glanced down at her skimpy attire, a smile entering his voice. ‘So what are you going to do? Arrest me?’

She glared up at him as if she’d like to do exactly that but not in the way he’d just been imagining. ‘Who are you anyway?’ she said haughtily.

He felt like saying the big bad wolf, given her snooty tone, but a better question was who was she? He glanced again at her cut-off denims and bright pink swimsuit that should have clashed with her bright hair but somehow didn’t, immediately dismissing the notion that she was his elderly grandfather’s guest. She looked more like the pool girl. The very hot pool girl. ‘Who’s asking?’

Her lips pursed into a flat line. ‘I am.’ She went to push up to her feet and paused when Dare automatically stuck his hand out to assist her. It didn’t surprise him when she tried to ignore his offer of help but Dare was in no mood to put up with some holier-than-thou woman who had just taken a few years off his life when she’d come flying out of the trees and into his path.

‘Take it,’ he growled, grabbing onto her elbow as she tried to avoid him.

The way she wrenched her arm out of his grip as soon as she was vertical made his teeth gnash together.

‘I don’t need your help.’

‘Listen, lady, it’s only thanks to my quick reflexes that you’re still here at all. You could show a little gratitude.’

‘Don’t you “lady” me. It’s thanks to your crappy driving that I now have a sore—’ She stopped as his eyes followed her hands to her bottom as she brushed it off.

He arched a brow. ‘Behind?’

‘Never mind,’ she said primly.

‘How did you not hear the bike anyway?’

‘This is a private lane and I was chasing after a dog.’ She gave his bike a contemptible glance. ‘I was hardly expecting Evel Knievel to come barrelling down the road.’

‘A dog, huh?’ Dare unzipped his jacket and planted his hands on his hips. ‘What kind of dog?’

He noticed she was staring at his chest, then his flat abdomen, and finally his zipper and heat poured through him as if she’d actually touched him.

As if sensing his visceral reaction to her she started inching away from him as if he were some would-be rapist and he scowled.

‘Yes.’ Her voice had grown husky and she cleared it. ‘A very big dog, if you must know.’

If she used her brain, Dare thought with rising annoyance, she’d realise that if he was going to grab her he wouldn’t be standing around arguing with her.

But even as he thought it his eyes dropped to her high breasts pushing up against the straps of her one-piece suit and those long, lightly tanned legs shown to glorious perfection in cut-off denims. He’d seen many girls dressed similarly on a hot summer’s day in his youth but he was quite sure he’d never seen legs as good as hers.

‘What are you looking at?’

His eyes lifted to hers. Moss green, he decided, and full of awareness of how appreciative he had been of her figure.

‘Your legs.’ He smiled. ‘You have them on display. You can hardly blame a man for looking.’

‘Excuse me?’ Her eyes shot daggers at him and he supposed he deserved it. He wasn’t here to come on to the pool girl and he was hardly desperate for female company.

‘Listen—’

‘How dare you?’ She stabbed a slender finger at his chest. ‘I’m wearing a bathing suit because it’s hot and I’ve just been for a swim.’

‘And you were looking for a dog. I get it. But—’

‘Not that I need to explain myself to the likes of you,’ she vented.

Dare’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘The likes of me?’

‘That’s what I said. Are you hard of hearing? Oh, no!’ She gave a cry of dismay. ‘My necklace!’ She turned quickly, her russet cloud of hair swinging around her shoulders. ‘I can’t have lost it.’

Dare sighed. He was tired after driving hours to get here on top of already putting in what felt like a full day at the office, and in no mood to be insulted by some sexy little shrew. ‘What does it look like?’

‘It’s a ruby pendant, on a gold—’

‘This it?’

He reached into the longer grass where it circled a bush. He’d noticed a glint of something before when he’d first rushed over to her and now held a very expensive little trinket in the palm of his hand. He let out a low whistle of appreciation. She definitely wasn’t just the pool girl if this was hers.

Dare flashed a smile. ‘A pretty piece. I’m not sure it goes with the outfit though.’ She stiffened as he looked her over. ‘Might I suggest a string bikini next time?’

‘I wasn’t wearing it,’ she said hotly. ‘It was a gift.’

Dare laughed. ‘I hardly thought you paid for it yourself, baby.’ In his experience no woman would.

She stared at him mouth agape and he supposed he had sounded a touch derogatory but...

‘Did you really just call me baby?’

Yeah, he had. For some reason discovering the necklace had made his mood take another dive. ‘Look—’

‘Listen? Look?’ Her finger stabbed in his direction again. ‘You are one condescending piece of work, darling.’ She stepped forward, her cheeks pink with annoyance. ‘Give me that.’ She reached for the necklace in his hand but Dare reacted instinctively and raised it above his head. She was medium to tall in height but there was no way she was close to his six feet four.

Realising it, she pulled up short, her hands flattening against his white T-shirt to stop herself from falling against him. Her eyes grew wide, her soft mouth forming a perfect ‘O’, and his eyes lingered before returning to hers.

Dare would have said the whole ‘time standing still’ thing was just hogwash, but right then he couldn’t hear a leaf rustling, or a bird calling, his mind empty of everything that didn’t include getting her naked and horizontal as soon as possible.

Instinctively his free hand came around to draw her closer when the sound of yapping at his feet broke the spell. Disconcerted, Dare looked down into the upturned face of an ugly little mutt the size of a cat with its tongue hanging out. He grinned. ‘This the big dog you were chasing?’

The redhead stepped back and threw him a filthy look as she reached for the small dog that danced just out of her reach.

‘Gregory,’ she growled in a warning voice. ‘Heel.’

Dare would have laughed at her futile attempts to stay the dog if he hadn’t been feeling so out of sorts.

‘Here.’ He held the necklace out impatiently as she made to run after the dog. ‘Don’t forget your gift.’

Turning on him with a malevolent look, she snatched the necklace from his hand and took off after the mutt. He doubted he’d have cause to see her again but strangely he found he wanted to.

Shaking his head, he walked back to his bike and shoved his helmet on, dismissing the pool girl from his mind as he gunned the engine and headed to the main house.

CHAPTER TWO

DARE PACED BACK and forth in what he surmised was a parlour room inside the grand house. He’d never been particularly good at cooling his heels and finding his grandfather out when he’d first arrived had turned an already grim mood further south. Two hours later it was fair to say it had hit rock bottom. He wondered if it was a tactical move on his grandfather’s behalf because Dare had presumed to turn up unannounced a day earlier than he was expected.

Glancing around the elegant room, he took in the heavily oak-panelled walls dating back to the sixteenth century. Like the bedroom he’d been shown to earlier to ‘freshen up’—which had most likely been code for ditching his leathers—the antique furniture was graceful and well-appointed. Given the state of the rest of the house and grounds that Dare had seen, he surmised that money wasn’t behind the old man’s invitation to his mother. Which left the possibility that he was ill and/or dying.

The thought didn’t stir an ounce of emotion in Dare at all. But the line of oil paintings mounted high on the walls? They were most likely his ancestors, he thought with distaste, and they gave him the creeps. He steeled himself against the unexpected need to search out a likeness. He was nothing like these people and never would be.

It was hard to imagine his mother running around here as a child. The place might be majestic and steeped in history, but it was completely devoid of laughter and lightness. And so alien to his own impoverished upbringing. Not that the wealth of the place bothered him. He could buy it a thousand times over if he wanted to.

He checked his watch, impatient to meet the old man who had unsettled his mother’s world once more. And his own, if the truth be told.

‘I apologise for keeping you waiting, sir.’ The butler who had shown him to his room earlier tipped his head as he stepped into the parlour.

Dare smiled at the man’s cordiality, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Fed up with waiting in his room like a good little schoolboy, Dare had prowled around the house on his own, finally being shown into this room by one of the servants.

‘Forget it,’ Dare said. His quarrel wasn’t with the butler so why make his life harder by being a jerk?

‘May I fix you a pre-dinner drink, sir?’

Dare turned away from a life-sized oil painting of a man in a bad wig. ‘Scotch. Thank you.’

He had no intention of staying for dinner but the butler didn’t need to know that either.

Dare gazed around at the book-lined walls, softly lit lamps, and matching damask sofas. A tartan throw rug caught his eye, the mix of autumn colours reminding him of the pool girl’s glorious mane of hair. She’d been absolutely beautiful, wild and pagan with that long, unbound mane splayed out against the bright green grass, and then she’d opened her eyes and he’d been jolted by the greyish-green hue that reminded him of the Spanish moss that grew on many of the trees back home. The combination was startling. Then there was her skin that had been creamy and, oh, so inviting to touch.

She had reminded him of the angel he and his mother used to place on top of their Christmas tree when he was a child. Her temper, though, had definitely not been angelic and his lips quirked as he recalled how her eyes had shot sparks at him whenever he’d riled her.

Something about her had made him want to get her all hot and bothered, even when she’d insulted him. Not that he had any time for the pool girl, he reminded himself. But still...he had no doubt as to how good those sweet curves of hers would have felt in his arms.

Catching the ludicrousness of his thoughts, Dare gave himself a mental slap-down. He was thirty-two years old, long past the age of mentally drooling about how a woman would feel in his arms. How she would taste on his lips. How he might find her once this business with his grandfather was done.

He took a swig of his drink. He was long past the age of chasing after women as well. Not that he’d ever had to do much of that. He’d always been good with his hands and had a strong attention to detail and the women had loved him for it. True, they often complained that he put work ahead of them, but he’d never claimed to be perfect.

He wondered yet again who had given the pool girl the expensive bauble she’d been so afraid she’d lost. No doubt a lover, but who? His grandfather? He nearly sprayed his Scotch at the thought. As if a gorgeous woman like that would have anything to do with a decrepit, old man.

A light sound outside the door caught his attention and he looked up as a white-haired, elegantly dressed gentleman entered the room.

Finally...

Dare took his grandfather all in at once. The tall build and broad shoulders, the lined face that was both proud and strong. He’d somehow expected his grandfather to look frail and sick and the fact that he didn’t was as irritating to him as his thoughts about the redhead.

Both men took a moment to appraise the other, Dare giving nothing away beneath the old man’s regard.

Let him look, he thought, and let him understand that I am not the weak man my father was. I don’t run from my responsibilities.

‘Dare.’ His grandfather said his name with an air of familiarity that rankled. ‘I’m so very pleased to meet you at last. Please forgive my absence when you first arrived. I would have rearranged my afternoon plans had I known you were arriving earlier.’

Dare didn’t respond. He had no intention of pretending any form of civility with this man who had thrown his mother out all those years ago.

His mouth tightened, his attention drawn to a subtle movement behind the old man. When he saw it was the pool girl it took all his effort to keep his expression implacable.

His eyes moved down the length of her. The wild, pagan angel was nowhere in sight. In her place stood a very regal, very sophisticated young woman in a simple knee-length black dress and high heels, her rich red hair swept back into a tight knot at the base of her skull. Not many women could wear a hairdo that severe. She could.

Her moss-green eyes returned his regard coolly and a muscle jumped in his jaw. She wasn’t the pool girl, that was for sure, which left the only other conclusion he had arrived at front and centre in his mind.

But surely not...

His grandfather turned to acknowledge her presence, his hand hovering at the small of her back as he guided her forward. ‘Please allow me to introduce you to Carly Evans. Carly, this is my grandson, Dare James.’

She gave his grandfather a quizzical glance and Dare’s jaw clenched at the unspoken communication between the two.

But surely yes...

This was definitely his grandfather’s mystery guest.

He could barely believe it was true. He was so caught off guard he nearly missed the way her eyes dropped nervously from his as she stepped forward to greet him. ‘Mr James.’ Her smile was a little tremulous and he was somehow gratified by her nervousness. He bet she wouldn’t insult him now. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

God, she really was stunning and he didn’t like the jolt of adrenaline that coursed through his blood at the sight of her. ‘Ms Evans, it’s a delight to see you again.’

Her eyes cut back to his with surprise. So she hadn’t told his grandfather about their meeting. How very interesting.

‘You’ve already met?’ Surprise crossed his grandfather’s craggy features as well and Dare was glad he wasn’t the only one in the room who was thrown off course here.

‘We ah...met earlier,’ the goddess hedged, her face blushing prettily. ‘I didn’t realise he was your grandson at the time. For some reason I thought he’d be younger. And English instead of American.’

There was only one reason a beautiful young woman would be sleeping with an old man like his grandfather and it left a sour taste in Dare’s mouth.

He remembered one time at Harvard when a woman had been playing both he and his room-mate at the same time. They’d both ditched her as soon as they found out. Dare had laughed that she’d wanted Liam for his money and Dare for his sexual prowess. Then they’d spent hours over beers arguing the point and debating the morality of women on the make.

No need to debate this woman’s morality. It was staring him in the face. Or rather gazing adoringly at his grandfather.

‘Perhaps you would have been a little nicer if you had known who I was,’ he suggested, wanting to ruffle her smooth feathers as she had ruffled his.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘I wasn’t rude.’

Dare’s brow rose. ‘You were hardly welcoming, if I recall.’

‘You nearly ran me down.’

‘Ran you down?’ His grandfather’s brow furrowed with concern.

‘I got a fright when I didn’t hear the motorcycle...it was nothing,’ she assured him gently.

‘Then why bring it up?’ Dare asked pleasantly.

She frowned at him. ‘I didn’t. You did.’

‘Carly, are you sure you’re okay?’ His grandfather’s concern was like an annoying splinter under the skin.

‘Absolutely. Gregory broke his leash again and when I went to get him I wasn’t concentrating well enough.’

‘A woman who admits fault; be still my beating heart,’ Dare mocked softly.

She shot him a fiery look that left scorch marks across the silk rug between them. Dare smiled and watched, transfixed as she collected herself and reinstated her sophisticated façade. The transformation was quite something to behold.

‘I apologise if you thought I was in any way rude, Mr James,’ she said, as if a poker were rammed up her delectable backside. ‘It was not my intention.’

Not now that she knew who he was, anyway. She wouldn’t want to do anything to unsettle her gravy train.

‘Is that right?’ he said smoothly.

Her face coloured again and her little chin went up at the challenging note in his voice.

He trapped her gaze with his. Don’t mess with me, my little beauty, he silently warned. You’ll lose.

She blinked as if to say she had no idea what he was on about and he nearly applauded her for her acting skills.

Instead he dismissed her and set his chilly gaze on his grandfather. ‘Why is she here?’

His grandfather shifted uncomfortably. ‘Carly and I have taken to having a drink before dinner and as I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow I invited her to join us. I hope you don’t mind.’

For reasons he didn’t want to examine, Dare did. Very much. ‘And if I do?’ He asked, sipping his Scotch.

His deceptively amiable question froze the cool smile on Carly’s face.

His grandfather frowned. ‘Carly is...well, she’s a guest of mine,’ he finished lamely.

‘How nice for you.’ Dare ran his hand over the length of the tartan rug, noting the frown on Carly Evans’s face as he did so.

‘I can go.’ She moistened her lips with a nervous flicker of her pink tongue. ‘I don’t mind, really—’

‘Stay,’ Dare said, rethinking his position. It might actually be better to have her around to get a full picture of what was going on.

Her eyes darkened infinitesimally at the command. She obviously liked to be the one in charge.

So did he.

His grandfather cleared his throat to cut through the awkward silence and Dare watched him move to the drinks trolley. ‘Cointreau on ice, Carly?’

‘No, thank you,’ she husked, moving forward. ‘I’ll just have water but, here, let me get it. You sit down.’

The lady had expensive taste, Dare thought, but then he knew that from the ruby necklace, which was markedly absent. In fact she wasn’t wearing any jewellery to speak of. Had she not had time to put it on?

He watched as she fixed her own drink and poured tonic water for Benson without having to ask what he would like. How very comfortable it all was. The nubile, young woman playing up to the doddery old rich fool no doubt hoping he’d kick the bucket soon. Dare couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was disappointed. He’d somehow felt she had more substance to her.

Yeah, right. Substance. Was that what he was calling lust these days?

Nothing like a cold shot of reality to kill that bird dead.

He glanced at her ring finger. No diamond rock there. Obviously she still had some work to do yet.

He felt something primitive unfurl inside him. Something dark and dangerous. Disgust, he told himself. Every one of his senses had gone on high alert as soon as she had entered the room and he didn’t like it that he was so aware of her as a woman. Not when she was screwing his grandfather.

Just the thought of the two of them intimate made his stomach turn. Could a man even get it up at that age? A cynical smile touched the corner of Dare’s mouth. He certainly hoped so.

But he wasn’t here to think about his grandfather’s sordid sex life, he reminded himself. He was here to find out why Benson had contacted his mother, and he wouldn’t let himself get sidetracked by this wide-eyed mistress again.

‘As pleasant as this is,’ Dare mocked, facing off against his grandfather, ‘what I want to know is why you contacted my mother.’

A heavy silence followed his lethally soft words and it sent a chill down Carly’s spine.

When Benson had informed her that his grandson would be joining them for drinks Carly had thought he had meant Beckett, and she’d been pleased that she would be able to return his necklace to him and not have to worry about losing it.