Redemption Of The Maverick Millionaire

He lifted his chin. And then he’d take a holiday, walk on a beach somewhere and rethink his life…make some changes.

Her arms were still folded and the fingers of her right hand drummed against her left upper arm. She stuck out a hip and raised an eyebrow. He nodded. Before he could do any of that, he needed to deal with the here and now. ‘I know you must hate me, Eve.’

She waved that away. ‘Ancient history.’

He tried to gauge what was happening behind her eyes, but he couldn’t. Had she really moved on so easily? A dark heaviness settled over him that he tried to shake off. He hoped she had.

‘Is it true that you’ve bought the site from Greamsman?’

She didn’t want to talk about the past. Her gaze was firmly fixed on the future—on her livelihood—as it should be. He pulled himself into straight lines and nodded. ‘Yes.’

Her eyes didn’t waver from his. That was one of the things he’d always loved about her—her unflinching strength.

‘And what do you mean to do with it?’

The tightness in his chest started to drain away. Finally, he could give her something of worth. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

She blinked as if his words made no sense.

‘Mirror Glass Bay will retain its unspoilt character, preserved for generations to come as it should be. I know how special—’

‘You’re not going to build a big, shiny new resort on that spot?’ she interrupted him.

‘No, I’m not.’ He waited for her shock to dissolve into relief…to dissolve into happiness. He didn’t expect her to thank him, but one small smile didn’t seem too much to ask for.

Her hands clenched and her face twisted. A breath shot out of her lungs and it seemed to leave her diminished, lesser…broken. ‘What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve this? From you of all people!’

His mouth went dry. ‘What are you talking about?’

She slammed a hand down to the table between them and eyed the pens, the bowls of mints and the coffee mugs as if she was trying to decide which of them to hurl at him first. ‘Damn you, Demon.’

His jaw clenched so hard pain shot down his neck.

‘Mirror Glass Bay needed that development.’

What the hell…?

‘You wanted that development?’

‘Yes!’

He took a step back, his veins freezing to ice. Damn it all to hell, how had he got this so wrong?

Eve fell into a seat at the board table and dropped her head to her hands. She’d promised everyone to do her best. Think! She had to find a way to fix this. She was an intelligent woman. Her hands clenched into fists at her temples. She should be able to fix this. If she could only get her mind to work.

Except her mind had downed tools at the first sight of Damon.

‘Eve?’

Damon’s hand came into view and she jerked away. ‘Don’t touch me!’

He pulled his hand back, his face going white and the lines about his mouth pinching as if he were fighting a spasm of pain. Maybe he had a bad back, or a raging migraine. She really hoped so.

Her reaction to him had never been measured, but the ferocity of her animosity now took her off guard. It was just…

She’d never expected to see him again.

She’d never wanted to see him again.

‘You wanted the development to go through?’ he repeated.

‘Yes!’ The word snapped out of her, full of fire and brimstone, but she couldn’t seem to moderate her tone.

‘But there was a newspaper article that said local residents were against it.’

She stood, her entire body starting to shake. ‘Are you telling me your research of what the residents of Mirror Glass Bay wanted was based on one newspaper article?’

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘I researched the development.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed again. ‘Thoroughly.’

‘One newspaper article?’ she repeated, refusing to let the strong column of his throat distract her.

‘The development was slotted for a resort. For holidaymakers. It would’ve been in direct competition to your motel.’

But his voice wavered as he uttered the words, and she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he done no research on Mirror Glass Bay—on her gorgeous, quirky and utterly frustrating community—at all? ‘Not in competition,’ she managed through gritted teeth. ‘We’d have attracted completely different clienteles. The people who come to stay in my motel would no sooner think of staying in a luxury resort than they would take annual trips to Europe.’

He dragged a hand down his face and swore.

‘Why?’ She tried not to shout the word. ‘Why did you get involved at all? Why did you have to meddle?’

‘I wanted to make amends.’ His lips pressed into a straight, uncompromising line, but he’d lost his colour and it hadn’t come back yet. He looked as if he might throw up. She ignored the stupid skip of her heart, its stupid weakening. ‘To you,’ he croaked. ‘I wanted to make amends to you. I wanted to help.’

She folded her arms across her chest so tightly they started to ache. She would not let his words warm her. She wouldn’t even let herself believe them. ‘If you wanted to help, why didn’t you ask me first instead of going off half-cocked and ruining everything?’

He opened his mouth as if to protest but shut it again with a snap and a nod.

‘Why couldn’t you have left me alone? What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve…?’

She broke off, appalled at how heavily she breathed. It was as if she’d been running a race as hard and as fast as she could but still couldn’t win…couldn’t even seem to make it to the finish line. She hitched up her chin, desperately wanting to channel ice-cold composure. ‘This has nothing to do with me, has it? It’s about you wanting to allay a guilty conscience.’

‘Maybe they’re different sides of the same coin.’

‘And maybe they’re not. One is selfish and self-interested and the other isn’t. We both know unselfishness isn’t a trait you’re known for.’ She wanted to call him Demon again, but she didn’t have the heart for it. ‘Either way, looks like I’m the one having to pay the price. Again.’

‘I can fix this, Eve.’

She didn’t want him to. She wanted him out of her life for good. She never wanted to see him again.

Except…

She swallowed. It left her throat feeling bruised and sore. Except she’d promised her community, her friends, to do everything she could to make sure this resort went through. And she’d keep that promise, regardless of her animosity…regardless of the pain crushing her chest, as if seeing him now was breaking her heart all over again.

‘I swear to you that I can fix this.’ He sat at the table and pulled a pad and pen towards him. She remembered then how he’d always liked to brainstorm with pen and paper rather than being chained to his computer and a Word document.

She wrestled with her desire to walk out the door and not turn back. But in the end Mirror Glass Bay and her promise won out. She sat too.

He glanced across at her. He didn’t smile, but she had to remind herself that the warmth in his eyes was not reflected in his heart. He’d given her no apology—not for then and not for now. Damon Macy took what he wanted, when he wanted, without apology. And without thought for how it might affect anyone else. She’d be a fool to forget it.

She sat, folded her arms and forced her spine to make contact with the back of the chair. She loathed Damon Macy and all he stood for, but she couldn’t let her antipathy harm Mirror Glass Bay. If he really wanted to make amends, she intended to take full advantage of that. ‘How will you fix it? Do you now plan to build that luxury resort?’

‘I—’ He broke off with a curse. ‘I signed a non-compete clause. It was the only way I could get Greamsman to agree to the deal.’

Wow. His conscience must be making him feel really guilty. But then the meaning of his words hit her, and it was all she could do not to drop her head to her arms and cry. A non-compete clause meant Mirror Glass Bay could kiss goodbye to a luxury resort for good. The town needed an injection of capital. It needed development, jobs and infrastructure. Local government grants and initiatives were all given to Byron Bay, where the tourist dollar repaid it ten-fold. Mirror Glass Bay didn’t aspire to those same standards. It just wanted a little piece of the pie—just enough to support a medical centre and to keep the tiny primary school open. It didn’t seem too much to ask.

‘Right.’

Damon straightened and the broad expanse of his shoulders squared, as if he were a superhero in a big-budget film getting ready for the fight of his life. It should’ve made her want to laugh in scorn and derision and call him unflattering names, such as egotist and poseur. No scorn or derision rose through her, though—at least, not any directed at him.

‘I can build several state-of-the-art high-rises on that site—luxury apartments.’ He tapped the pen against his mouth. ‘As long as I can get the necessary planning permissions.’

She dismissed that with a single wave of her hand. ‘And who will live in them? Sure, their construction and outfitting will bring jobs to the area, but it’s a short-term solution. Once they’re done…’

‘I could make them short-term holiday lets.’

‘Besides the fact that brings you dangerously close to contravening your non-compete clause…’

‘I’d make them family friendly, not luxury, and—’

‘In which case you’d be stealing from my client base.’

He cursed again and went back to jotting notes on his pad. ‘What about a theme park?’

‘What about you do some proper research into the area first and find out the kinds of tourists Mirror Glass Bay—and Byron Bay, for that matter—attract? That is, if you’re serious about helping.’

His gaze lifted, his eyes dark and intense. ‘I’m serious.’

He’d always been too serious. Though she’d been able to make him laugh, had managed to get him to loosen up—back in the old days. Her hands clenched. Until he’d thrown her over for two million dollars to advance his goddamned career. He’d thrown away everything they’d had for…

She folded her arms. It didn’t look as though it had brought him any joy.

Which served him right.

But it didn’t seem fair that his hair should be as dark and glossy as it had always been, his jaw just as square and strong or his shoulders as broad and appealing. It wasn’t fair that his outside should be so compelling, could make a woman’s stomach soften with longing, when inside his heart was black.

He leaned back in his seat, his chin lifting. ‘What’s wrong with my theme park idea?’

‘What am I now—your research assistant?’

Mirror Glass Bay needs help! If this man…

She dragged in a breath, moderated her tone. ‘How far are we from the Gold Coast?’

‘No idea. Three or four hours?’

‘An hour and fifteen minutes.’

If he really wanted to make amends—if he was sincere—then his heart couldn’t be that black, could it?

Her lips twisted. Maybe it was just a really dirty charcoal-grey.

‘What?’ he said, his hand lifting, as if to check his hair.

She snapped back to their conversation. ‘How many theme parks are there on the Gold Coast?’

She watched him count them off on his fingers. He held up three and raised an eyebrow.

‘Five,’ she told him. ‘So, if families or singles wanted a theme-park holiday, why would they come to Mirror Glass Bay when they could go to the Gold Coast?’

‘Because my theme park would be the best.’

He still had that same old arrogance, the same belief he could make things happen, and it tugged at some secret, hidden place inside her. And for the first time since she’d clapped eyes on him again she was scared rather than shocked and angry. Scared that he still had the power to hurt her.

She set her shoulders and did what she could to get her thumping heart back under control. That’d only happen if she let it. And there was no way on God’s green she was going to let it happen. Ever. She gripped her hands in her lap to counter their trembling. ‘What is Byron Bay known for?’

‘An amazing beach. An amazing surfing beach,’ he clarified. ‘The town has always attracted surfers and backpackers.’ His lips pursed. ‘It’s also considered a hub of new age and hippy culture. From what I saw yesterday, very briefly, there are a lot of yoga retreats and holistic wellness centres in the area.’

‘And do you think the kind of people who are attracted to those things—who come to this part of the world to experience those things—are the kind of people interested in rollercoasters and water slides?’

His pen started up a quick and annoying tap-tap-tap against his pad. She wanted to reach across and halt it, only that’d betray the calm composure she was trying to maintain.

‘You’re right,’ he said slowly.

Hallelujah.

Except…

She frowned. ‘About what?’

‘I do need to research the area. Properly.’ His eyes narrowed at whatever he saw in her face. ‘I am going to fix this, Eve. You’ll see.’

She hoped to God he did. Her community needed it. And as for herself… ‘As long as you don’t expect me to pin a medal on your chest at the end of all this, clap you on the shoulder and tell you what a great guy you are.’

Because he wasn’t a great guy. And she had no intention of forgetting it.

‘Don’t worry, Evie,’ he drawled. ‘I’m keeping my fantasies firmly grounded in reality.’

She had to glance away at the word ‘fantasies’. It conjured up too much, and she’d lost too much to him last time. ‘Eve,’ she corrected. ‘Only my friends are allowed to call me Evie.’ It’d taken her too long to pick herself up and find some joy in life again after the last time. That peace had become precious to her, and she wasn’t letting him disturb it again.

‘There’s just one thing I want from you, Eve.’

To stay out of his hair?

She turned back and raised an eyebrow, crossing her fingers in her lap.

‘I need a place to stay. I need you to find me a room in that motel of yours.’

No!

She didn’t want this man anywhere near her beloved town. Mirror Glass Bay had become her haven and refuge. It’d saved her. It’d given her a new direction. It’d given her hope. If Damon Macy came crashing into her life now…

She halted that thought dead in its tracks. Mirror Glass Bay needed Damon to undo the damage he’d just done. And if she could hold him the least bit accountable then she owed it to her community.

She forced her lips upwards. ‘You’re in luck. It’s off-season so you can have the Kingfisher Suite. It’s our best.’ Though he’d be used to much finer these days. ‘And I’ll charge you through the nose for it.’

His low laugh vibrated in all her hidden secret places. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

CHAPTER TWO

EVE DID HER best to assume nonchalance as she led Damon into her pride and joy—the Mirror Glass Bay Beachside Motel—and tried to see it objectively, as if through his eyes.

Tried and failed. The task was impossible. She’d thrown herself into this project four years ago after the scales had been lifted from her eyes—revealing the reality about both Damon and the corporate world upon which she’d pinned all her youthful dreams. The ruthlessness of the former and the savagery of the latter had shattered every ideal she’d ever had about becoming a self-made woman. To her so far never-ending relief, she’d discovered she wanted no part of either. She had no regrets about walking away.

She and her grandmother had jumped into Eve’s snazzy little hatchback and had headed north before her parents could shove Gran into a retirement home and forget all about her. The two of them had washed up here in Mirror Glass Bay, eight-and-a-half hours north of Sydney. They’d taken one look at the rundown motel and had glimpsed the future they’d wanted to create.

From the corner of her eye she watched Damon take in every detail. She and Gran had pooled their resources, bought the motel and spent the last four years bringing it back to its former glory. That didn’t change the fact that The Beachside, as it was affectionately known by the locals and its regulars, was nothing more than a three-star family motel.

A spick and span one.

A comfortable one.

A home-away-from-home one.

And a haven for Gran and her.

But a man like Damon wouldn’t see any of that. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t recognise its value. He’d simply see the lack of ostentation, the lack of five-star luxury, and that was his loss. She loved what she and Gran had achieved, and she refused to let the opinion of a man like Damon Macy belittle that achievement.

She nodded at her reception desk attendant. ‘Bettina, this is Mr Damon Macy. He’s going to be staying for…?’ She turned to Damon and raised an eyebrow. ‘For how long would you like to book the suite?’

One powerful shoulder lifted. ‘What would you suggest?’

She’d like to suggest he take a hike so she never had to see his handsome face again, but there was too much at stake. And she could be big enough to put Mirror Glass Bay’s needs above her own pettiness. Right?

She comforted herself with the notion of unearthing whatever better nature he had and taking advantage of it—for the greater good of her community, of course—before his ruthless business sense kicked in and he walked away, dusting off his hands and the challenge Mirror Glass Bay presented.

She kept her expectations within the realms of the possible, though. ‘Shall we start with a three-night stay, then?’ That would give the town committee the shadow of a chance to showcase the area to its best advantage. He’d at least get a taste for what the place had to offer.

‘Do you really think three nights is long enough for me to get a proper grasp of the unique issues Mirror Glass Bay faces?’ he drawled, one eyebrow raised sardonically in enquiry, as if he could see through her mask of calm business composure and was mocking her for her lack of ambition—for not demanding more of him.

But she’d demanded more from him once before and he’d failed her. She had no faith left now.

‘Absolutely not. A fortnight might do it justice. But I was keeping my expectations…realistic.’ She smiled—oh, she made sure she smiled—but her words were laced with a poison that had Bettina’s eyes widening.

She doubted Damon noticed, or cared about, Bettina’s reaction. He angled his chin towards Eve and placed those long-fingered hands on his hips. ‘Let your fantasies go wild, Eve. Ask for what you want. Who knows? You might even get it.’

She recalled a time when she’d have slipped her arms about his waist, tucked her head against his shoulder and relished all of that warm male strength. Her mouth dried and it took all her strength not to take a step away from him. His gaze lowered and she knew he could see the pulse in her throat hammering.

She hated that. Hated that she couldn’t control her reaction. Hated that her body betrayed her. Hated that he knew it—that was what she hated most of all. She refused to let her chin drop. So what if he knew she wasn’t as calm as she pretended to be? The one thing he couldn’t be certain of was why.

And she had no intention of admitting that she found him every bit as thrilling and potently attractive as ever.

She swung back to Bettina. ‘Book Mr Macy into the Kingfisher Suite for two weeks.’

He wouldn’t stay for two weeks.

He handed his credit card over without a murmur.

She sent him a big, fake smile. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that we’re currently running a deal—stay five nights and get the sixth night free.’

‘Absolutely delighted,’ he returned, slotting his credit card back into its folder and slipping it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. ‘How…’

If he said quaint she might just have to hit him.

‘Fortuitous. Some might even say auspicious.’

Smart man.

‘Our usual clientele appreciates the chance to stay with us for as long as possible. We like to facilitate that whenever we can.’

‘Very generous of you.’

She ignored his sarcasm and took the key from Bettina. ‘We’re a modest establishment but pride ourselves on our hospitality.’ Another big, fake smile. ‘We don’t have any porters here, Damon, but I’m more than happy to carry your bag for you if you require it.’

He snapped back from his comprehensive perusal of the small motel reception to seize his bag. ‘I’m happy to carry my own bag, thank you.’ He gestured to the doors—one led left, one led right and there was the one behind them that led back to the street where they’d parked their cars. ‘Lead the way.’

She took him through the left door and back outside, where she promptly ascended a set of stairs. ‘This is the oldest part of the complex. It used to be a seaman’s mission but was decommissioned fifty years ago and turned into a motel.’

When they reached the first floor, with its deep veranda that ran the length of the building, she gestured at the beach spread out before them. ‘This is why people pay a few extra dollars a night for the rooms in this part of the motel.’

Because the beach was beautiful.

To their left a residential road perpendicular to the one they’d parked on ran parallel to the beach. To their right was nothing but sand dunes, beach and the headland. ‘We parked our cars on Beach Road, and that one—’ she gestured to the road that ran beside the beach ‘—is called Marine Drive. Both roads will bring you back to the motel.’

He didn’t answer and she turned to find he’d stopped dead, his mouth agape. ‘This is…’

‘Rather pretty,’ she agreed, deliberately minimising the impact of the view and setting a brisk pace along the wooden floorboards to the door at its very end.

‘Rather pretty?’ he spluttered as she unlocked his door.

She turned to survey the view again, moving to stand by the veranda railing, because it was easier than looking at him. How she loved this place. It fed her soul in ways she needed. She didn’t want to imagine life away from here.

And she didn’t have to, she told herself.

‘You can see why our guests will snap up that extra night for free if they can.’

He’d dropped his bag and joined her at the railing. ‘I—’

‘But it lacks the grandeur of the main beach at Byron Bay. Or the views of Sydney Harbour from the Toaster,’ she added, referring to an iconic luxury apartment complex on Circular Quay—which was probably where he lived these days.

‘It has its own charm.’

He smelled of boardrooms—of printer ink, mints and air conditioning—but beneath it was a hint of spice that had her nose wrinkling in appreciation. ‘On a good day the surf here can’t be beaten, but it can also be uneven and…pernickety. Dedicated surfers prefer Byron. The headland, though, means it’s a safe swimming beach. Young families love it.’

She couldn’t have said why but the arrested expression on his face satisfied her.

She pointed away from the nearby headland and down Marine Drive. ‘Can you see the scrub at the far end of the road?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s what you just bought from Mr Greamsman. Beachfront land that abuts national park, which means the site is loaded with both charm…and potential.’

She didn’t glance up into his face. She didn’t want to see his expression. She had little belief, despite his protestations otherwise, that he would see any project there through. She’d do her best to convince him otherwise—she had to do at least that much. What was it Gran always said? Where there’s life, there’s hope. But she didn’t believe Damon would deliver on his promise.