The Ruthless Billionaire’s Redemption

‘We’re not strangers, though. We’ve had two absolutely delightful conversations, we shared a plane ride…’ He held up his hands in surrender when he saw the look on Danielle’s face. ‘You’re quite right,’ he said solemnly. ‘Two people who are about to set off on a journey together should at least know each other’s names. Anyway, I already know yours. I suppose you’re entitled to the same courtesy.’ He made a sweeping bow. ‘Lee Bradford, at your service, mam’selle.’

Something in the way he offered his name gave her pause. ‘Should I—am I supposed to know your name, or something?’

‘Or something,’ he said with a quick smile.

Was he an actor? Was that why he was going to Ste Agathe? He was certainly handsome enough.

She drew in her breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I’m afraid—’

‘I’m a racer.’

Danielle looked blank. ‘You can’t be. Jockeys are short, aren’t they?’

He reached up slowly and pulled off his glasses. There was laughter in his eyes again. ‘Cars,’ he said softly. ‘Race cars. I’m a driver, Miss Nichols.’

Race cars, she thought. Of course. It was easy to imagine him behind the wheel of a powerful car, the wind whipping into his face and the engine growling.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m not very…’

The look of amusement left his face. It was, she thought, like glimpsing the real features behind a mask, but before she could quite grasp what it was she’d thought she’d seen, the arrogant expression was back.

‘No,’ he said, picking up her suitcase, ‘you’re not.’ He started towards the doors as Danielle stared after him, and then he turned and looked at her. ‘Well? Are you coming or not?’

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I—I don’t know. Maybe I can get a car at another counter. Maybe I should telephone…’

Lee Bradford sighed and dropped her luggage to the floor. ‘All right,’ he said, walking towards her, ‘let’s get it over with.’

Danielle stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’

He smiled as his hands clasped her shoulders. ‘Yes, you do,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve been wondering about this from the minute I walked into that lounge in New York.’ His eyes swept over her face and settled on her mouth. ‘Maybe if we get the suspense out of the way, we can get to Ste Agathe before next week.’

She knew what he was going to do a second before it happened, but it was still too late. Her hands came up and pressed against his chest as he bent his head towards hers.

‘No,’ she said frantically, ‘you can’t do that.’

If only she hadn’t protested, she thought later, if only she hadn’t said anything or done anything, it might have ended there. His kiss was only meant to tease her, she knew that even as she fought against it.

His mouth only brushed hers lightly, but when her lips parted to vent her protest, everything changed. Lee’s mouth closed over hers and then his arms tightened around her.

Danielle whimpered softly as he drew her to him. She felt the quick race of his heart beneath her hands and the answering race of her own, and then his lips moved against hers. Suddenly time and reality dropped away.

She had no idea how long it was before his hands cupped her shoulders again and he thrust her from him. They stood staring at each other, locked in a silence so thick it seemed almost palpable. Then, before Danielle could speak, Lee let out his breath and turned away.

‘OK,’ he said evenly, ‘that’s out of the way. Can you manage your carry-on yourself, or shall I take it?’

Danielle shook her head. ‘I—I…’

Her words faded and Lee swung towards her. ‘Last chance, little girl,’ he said. His voice sounded angry, almost fierce. ‘Maybe you ought to forget about Ste Agathe and get on the next plane back to the States.’

It was, she thought with sudden, terrible clarity, probably the best advice anyone had ever given her.

But instead of taking it, Danielle swung the strap of her carry-on over her shoulder. ‘Where’s your car, Mr Bradford?’ she asked with determined coolness, and without another word she followed him out into the hot Mediterranean sun.

CHAPTER THREE

LEE BRADFORD’S car was a low-slung, gleaming black machine that looked as if it were moving even when it was standing still. He tossed Danielle’s suitcase and carry-on into the boot, then unlocked the passenger door and gave her a casual salute.

‘Your taxi, Miss Nichols.’

Danielle looked from him to the car. The interior looked barely large enough for two. The leather bucket seats were close to the ground, which meant her legs, bare beneath her light summer dress, would probably be stuck out almost straight under the dashboard.

She turned and glanced towards the taxi stand and the long queue of travellers waiting there. Eight hundred francs, she thought. It was a lot of money, and who knew how long it would take until it was her turn? But perhaps it was worth it. Perhaps—

‘Having second thoughts, little girl?’

Laughter danced in Bradford’s voice. Danielle met his derisive glance. God, the man was insufferable! First he’d expected her to be an easy pickup; when she hadn’t been, he’d decided she was a naïve little thing—probably because his ego wouldn’t let him think otherwise.

Probably, she suddenly thought, because that was how she’d acted.

Her head came up and she forced herself to meet his smile with an aloof one of her own. ‘Not at all,’ she said calmly. ‘I was just wondering why anyone would drive a thing like this. It doesn’t look very comfortable.’

He laughed as he went around to the driver’s side and slipped behind the wheel. ‘Comfort hasn’t a thing to do with it.’

He was right, of course. It hadn’t, and Danielle knew it. The car was made for speed. But speed was impossible along the heavily trafficked roads leading from the airport. She could feel Lee’s barely contained impatience: the fingers of his left hand tapped a restive tattoo on the steering wheel while his right clenched and unclenched on the gear shifter. He changed position in his seat, easing his long legs under the dashboard, then leaned forward and pressed a button on the instrument panel. A motor whined softly, and part of the roof overhead slid back.

A luxuriant floral scent filled the car. Danielle drew a deep breath. ‘What’s that lovely smell?’ she said softly.

Bradford glanced at her, then at the road. ‘Flowers. All kinds of flowers. And herbs—rosemary, thyme, sage—Provence is like an enormous garden. Why don’t you sit back and enjoy it?’

‘I am.’

He smiled. ‘No, you’re not. You’re too busy trying to keep your skirt over your knees. I assure you, Miss Nichols, I’ve seen women with more than their legs bare.’ His teeth flashed in a quick grin. ‘You might as well relax.’

She stared at him, then looked quickly back at the road. If only she could think of some clever reply, if only she could turn his teasing jibes back on him. But she’d tried that, and it had only backfired. The best thing to do was just to keep still.

Traffic was still heavy, but Lee took advantage of every opening in the clotted flow, surging in and out of the stream of cars with quick bursts of speed. The car seemed as impatient as its driver. The engine growled like a mean thing trapped in a cage, occasionally: rising to what seemed to her ears an angry scream. Danielle glanced at Lee’s profile. He looked tense; his mouth was hard, his jaw was set with concentration.

Finally, they shot past the last automobile. His foot came down harder on the accelerator and the car leaped eagerly ahead. They were speeding along a road so narrow and winding that she could only hope they would meet no car coming in the other direction. Carefully, Danielle glanced at Lee Bradford. All his attention was on the road, but there was nothing tense about him now. He was sitting back almost lazily, his left hand lying loosely on the steering wheel, his right on the gear shifter. He looked relaxed, but she knew he was totally in command of the swift-moving car which responded to his touch, purring beneath his hand like a satisfied cat.

Or like a contented woman.

The thought came swiftly and unexpectedly. At first, she was afraid she’d spoken aloud. But another look at him assured her she hadn’t. His eyes were still on the road, and there was a look on his face that told her he was as much caught up in the pleasure of the swift-moving car as she was in thinking about him.

Danielle felt a sudden sweep of irrational anger. ‘Must you drive so fast?’ she said sharply.

He glanced at her. ‘We’re not going fast at all, Miss Nichols.’ His eyes went to the speedometer, as did hers. ‘We’ve barely hit ninety.’

Ninety! How could they have reached such speed without her even noticing? Had she left her senses behind in the States? she thought, and her irritation grew.

‘I’d appreciate it if you’d slow down, Mr Bradford.’

Lee laughed. ‘What’s the matter, little girl? Are you scared?’

‘No.’ Her voice was cool, which amazed her, because his assessment was right on target. ‘You don’t scare me, you amaze me. Why should a grown man want to risk his neck playing such foolish games?’

A muscle knotted in his jaw. ‘High-stakes games are the only ones worth playing,’ he said softly, but even as he spoke his foot eased on the pedal and the car slowed to a more respectable seventy-five. ‘But you’re right, Miss Nichols. All you signed on for was a ride to Ste Agathe, not the Grand Prix.’ They rode in silence, and then he looked at her. ‘I take it you’ve never been to the Côte d’Azur before.’

Was he going to try and make pleasant conversation? If he was, he’d end up talking to himself.

‘No,’ Danielle said, staring straight ahead.

‘Are you on vacation, then?’

‘Yes.’

He sighed. ‘And you’re going to Ste Agathe as your first stop.’

‘Yes.’

The road lifted ahead, uncoiling like a grey ribbon as it entered the mountains. Bradford down-shifted and the engine hummed softly in accord.

‘Do you have a dog?’

Despite herself, Danielle turned and stared at him. ‘What?’

‘A dog,’ he said patiently. ‘Do you have one?’

Her brows drew together. ‘No.’

Bradford shrugged. ‘A pity,’ he said softly. ‘I was going to ask if you still beat him.’

Her eyes fastened on his impassive profile. ‘If I had a dog, I’d never beat him. Besides, that’s a stupid question to ask someone. You can’t give a “yes” or a “no” answer to something like that, you have to…’ Her voice faded as he began to chuckle. Danielle glared at him for a few seconds, and then a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘Touché, Mr Bradford.’

‘Lee.’ He glanced at her and smiled. ‘You might as well call me that. Ste Agathe has a population that would fit into a sardine tin. Calling me Mr Bradford is going to mark you as an outsider.’

Danielle shifted towards him. ‘Is it really small?’

Lee nodded. ‘It is—or it was, until the film crew arrived.’

‘You know about the film they’re shooting there?’

He grinned. ‘Oh, yes, Miss Nichols. I do, indeed.’

‘Danielle,’ she said without thinking.

His eyes met hers. ‘What’s that?’

‘Danielle. It’s my name. If I’m going to call you by your first name, you—’ She broke off and a light blush rose in her cheeks. ‘You knew that was my name.’

The slow smile she already knew well curved across Lee’s mouth. ‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘I did. But I wanted to hear you ask me to say it.’

Their eyes met. Danielle’s breath caught; her name had become a caress when he used it. And the way he was looking at her made her feel—made her feel…

She turned away quickly and stared straight ahead. They were climbing higher and higher into the mountains—she could see the rocky drop to the valley. It was a sight she’d always longed to see, but now it was all a blur. The only thing she could see clearly was the man seated beside her.

She lay her head back and inhaled deeply. What was the matter with her? Exhaustion, probably. One way or another, she’d spent most of the past day in the air. And she was wary about seeing Val again. Yes. Exhaustion, that was it. That was why she felt so—so confused, so vulnerable. It had nothing to do with Lee Bradford. Nothing…

‘…history buff?’

Danielle moistened her lips with her tongue. ‘Sorry,’ she said brightly. ‘I was thinking about—about Ste Agathe. Did you ask me something?’

He smiled. ‘Yes. I asked if you were a history buff.’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘not especially. Why do you ask?’

Lee shrugged his shoulders. ‘Ste Agathe doesn’t get many tourists. The ones who come are usually interested in the walls.’ He glanced at her. ‘The Roman walls,’ he said, ‘the ones left standing around the western portion of the town.’

‘I didn’t know there were any.’

‘It’s about all the town has going for it. Well, that and its antiquity. It’s a handsome little place—if you’re into fifteenth-century houses and quiet lanes.’

Danielle smiled. ‘I gather you’re not.’

Lee shrugged again. ‘They’re all right, I suppose.’ His hand flexed on the steering wheel, and she noticed how lightly it seemed to lie there, how little effort it took for him to control the powerful automobile. ‘But I’m used to a different kind of life. Racing circuits tend to be where the lights are brightest. Monte Carlo, Le Mans, Mexico City—that’s what I’m used to.’ He grinned at her. ‘Wexler says Ste Agathe’s peaceful. But I keep telling him that a tomb is peaceful, too.’

Danielle smiled in return. Yes, she thought, looking at him, a man like this would be unhappy tucked away in a quiet village. She knew little about Lee Bradford, but what she sensed told her that he craved excitement, that he needed it as some men needed food or drink. There’d be no bright lights in a place like Ste Agathe, no fast cars, no beautiful women to drape themselves around him as she knew they must in the real world.

She blinked. Wexler? Did he mean Barney Wexler? It had to be. How many Wexlers would you find in a place the size of Ste Agathe?

‘Lee?’ He glanced at her and she touched her tongue to her lips. ‘Are you with the film crew?’

He sighed and looked back at the road. ‘Unfortunately, the answer’s yes.’

Danielle frowned. ‘But you said you’re a racing driver.’

‘Yeah.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘That’s what I keep telling myself.’

‘I don’t understand. If you’re a driver…’

He laughed softly. ‘Forgive my immodesty, love, but I’m not a driver, I’m the driver. Well, last year’s, anyway, although I’m trying my damnedest to come out on top two years in a row. I had more championship points than anyone else, I won more races…’ He looked at Danielle’s blank face and laughed again. ‘You’re bad for my ego, do you know that? You keep looking at me as if I were talking Martian.’

‘I’m sorry. But I told you, I don’t know anything about…’

Lee sighed. ‘Neither does Wexler, which is why he asked me to serve as technical adviser on his film. Somebody introduced us at a party in New York, I guess it was. And then we bumped into each other again at a bash in Zurich.’

‘Zurich,’ Danielle repeated. She watched him, remembering what he’d said about speaking Martian. He’d meant it as a jest, but it was true enough. They might as well have come from different worlds, she thought, and a strange sadness tightened her throat.

He grinned. ‘I think it was Zurich. Hell, maybe it was Barcelona. I’m not really sure. Not that it matters—I just wish I’d been sober when Wexler tendered the invitation.’ Danielle’s eyebrows rose and his grin became a rueful smile. ‘That’s what I tell myself, anyway. It makes me feel better to think I was drunk when I agreed to sign on as his technical adviser.’

Danielle shook her head. ‘I really don’t understand at all. If you didn’t want to accept, why did you?’

‘Who the hell knows? Equal parts stupidity and boredom, maybe.’ His mouth turned down. ‘My business manager thought it might be time I tried something else. Besides, my principal sponsor’s money is in this film, and I have damned near a month and a half before my next race.’ He laughed softly. ‘Believe me, I’m looking forward to it.’

She smiled. ‘You make it sound like—like—’

‘Like heaven and hell combined,’ he said. ‘When I’m on the tour, I want to be somewhere else. And when I’m somewhere else, I want to be on the tour.’

‘You lead a strange life,’ she said with a smile.

He shrugged. ‘It’s been interesting, anyway.’

‘And the film? Have you enjoyed working on it?’

Lee shrugged. ‘It’s different, I have to say that.’

She smiled. ‘Yes, I’m sure it is. Working on a movie sounds pretty exciting.’

‘Believe me, it isn’t.’ He lifted his right hand and ran his fingers through his dark hair. ‘But things will pick up by the end of the month. We’ll be changing locations.’

Danielle looked at him in surprise. ‘Changing locations?’

‘Yeah. Wexler wants to shoot some racing footage in Monaco. I can hardly wait—it’ll be good to get behind the wheel of—’

‘Monaco? But I thought…’ Danielle drew a deep breath. ‘There must be a mistake. Val told me she’d be here all summer. She said—’

Lee stared at her. ‘Val?’

‘Yes. Valerie Cummings, do you know her? She’s—’

He laughed softly. ‘Oh, yes, I know her, all right. You might say we’re old acquaintances.’

Something in his voice made Danielle look up sharply. The sun was shining directly overhead, and it seemed to beat down on Lee Bradford’s face. But his eyes were on the road ahead, and she could see only his profile. Suddenly, he turned towards her.

‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I should have guessed. You’re Val’s cousin.’

Danielle nodded. ‘That’s right. But how did you—?’

Lee’s mouth narrowed. ‘She said you’d show up, but I didn’t believe her.’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t…’

His eyes fixed on her face. ‘She said all she had to do was tell you she needed you and you’d come running.’ He paused. ‘And it looks as if she was right.’

‘Did she, really?’ Her voice was cold.

‘The little Mississippi cousin,’ Lee said. ‘Well, well, well.’

‘Missouri,’ she said, even more coldly, ‘I’m from Missouri, not Mississippi.’

‘Does it really matter?’ For some reason, he sounded angry. ‘Val’s little farm girl…’

‘I am none of those,’ Danielle said curtly. ‘I’m not Val’s, I’m not from a farm, and I’m not a little girl. And I’ll thank you to keep all three in mind. I—’ She broke off as a white shape stepped delicately into the road. ‘Lee!’ Her voice rose in horror. ‘Look out—there’s a goat!’

Lee stepped down hard on the brakes. The acrid stench of burning rubber and the squeal of the tyres grabbing for purchase on the road surface filled the air. The car skidded across the narrow road, coming to rest on the dirt shoulder.

Danielle stared out of the window and her stomach rose into her throat as a stone, dislodged by the tyres, clattered down the steep hillside behind them. Picking up speed, it rolled towards the edge of the cliff and plunged over the side on its way to the valley floor, hundreds of feet below.

Silence filled the car, and then Lee was beside her, his fingers brushing lightly against her breasts as he unbuckled her seat belt.

‘Danielle.’ His arm closed around her and he drew her towards him. ‘Danielle. Are you OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘I’m fine. I just—I just…’

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. ‘Are you sure? No bumps? No bruises?’

She shook her head as his hand skimmed lightly over her cheeks and her temples, then moved into her hair.

‘No. Honestly, I didn’t bang against anything. I…’ She swallowed. His arm was still around her, holding her close to him. The silence seemed to grow louder. The scent of wild flowers filled the narrow space, making her dizzy. There was another scent mixing with the flowers—Lee’s scent, a heady combination of sun and sweat and maleness.

‘Danielle.’

He whispered her name. The sound of it made a slow pulse begin to beat deep within her.

‘Please,’ she said. His arm tightened around her; his dark head bent towards hers. ‘Lee…’ She swallowed. ‘The goat—is he all right? Did we hit him?’

He looked at her for a long moment, and then he began to smile. ‘You see?’ he said softly, his blue eyes sweeping over her face. ‘I was right. You are a farm girl; you’re more worried about the goat than you are about me.’

‘What do you mean? I…’

His eyes fell to her mouth. ‘You’ve yet to ask me if I’m all right.’

‘Haven’t I? I’m sorry. But I thought—I mean, you seem fine.’

Why did he have to keep looking at her mouth that way? It was—it was like a kiss; she could almost feel his lips moving against hers, she could almost taste his honeyed sweetness, the nectar of the flowers.

Lee smiled. ‘I am fine,’ he said, touching his finger to her lips, lightly tracing their outline. ‘And so’s the goat. He’s probably around that curve, telling all his friends in Ste Agathe about his close brush with death.’

It seemed hard to breathe, harder still to concentrate on anything but the feel of his hand.

‘Is—is Ste Agathe nearby?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Then we—we can get out and walk. We can…’

Lee cupped her face in his hand. ‘Is that what you want to do?’ he said softly.

Danielle’s head was spinning. What did she want? she thought desperately. An hour or two ago, she’d have said she wanted to reach St Agathe and never have to lay eyes on Lee Bradford again. And that was how she’d felt again, just before the accident.

Now, as he held her in his arms, she wasn’t quite so certain.

Lee murmured her name again and she raised her eyes to his. In the close confines of the car, they might have been the only people in the universe. He was going to kiss her. She knew he was, just as she knew she could stop him. He’d told her as much; all she had to do was tell him she wanted to get out of the car. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t. She—

With bone-jarring suddenness, the door was wrenched open. Danielle blinked as if awakening from a dream and looked past Lee’s shoulder.

Her breath caught. Valerie was staring into the car, her face twisted with an emotion so ugly that it turned Danielle’s blood cold.

‘Val?’ she said softly. Her cousin stared at her in silence. Danielle lifted her hands and put them against Lee’s chest. ‘Val,’ she said again.

Lee let go of her slowly and turned towards the open door. Danielle watched as Valerie stared at him, and then the terrible expression fell away from her face and she reached towards him.

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