The Ruthless Billionaire’s Redemption

‘What’s your number there? How can I reach you? Val?’

The phone went dead. Danielle hung up slowly, then leaned back against the pillows and tried to imagine Val as an administrative assistant on a film set. The locale sounded glamorous enough, but the job sounded stodgy—nothing like the things her cousin had tried so far: modelling, commercials, even summer theatre once. Val had always been beautiful, and she’d gone easily from high school graduation into a world where that beauty, rather than the ability to conjugate verbs or add a column of figures, had been all she needed to succeed. An administrative assistant, Danielle thought again. Well, that only proved how out of touch they were.

She yawned, got to her feet, then walked to the window and opened the curtains. The June morning was painting the sky with gold. The day was already warm, and the air smelled faintly of the cornfields that stretched away to the Missouri horizon.

Lazily, Danielle stretched her arms high over her head. She was tired, but there was no sense in trying to go back to sleep now. She’d shower, dress, have her breakfast—and think about Val’s invitation.

A whole summer in France, she thought as she pulled off her nightshirt and dropped it on the bed. What a vacation that would be! She’d never really done any travelling, except for last winter’s trip to visit Aunt Helen and Uncle John in their new retirement home in Arizona.

And Val was right—she really could do with a change. The winter had been long and harsh. And the accident had taken a terrible toll. She still had visions of Eddie lying in the road, his blood turning the rain-slicked tarmac red as his life had drained away.

Danielle shook her head and marched to the bathroom. No. She wouldn’t think about that awful day any more. Quickly, she stepped into the bath and turned on the shower. Brooding about Eddie wouldn’t bring him back. And, now that she thought about it, a trip to Europe wouldn’t do it, either. What it would do was exhaust her bank account—room and board might be free, but the fare wasn’t.

The more she thought, the more negatives there were. Val might be comfortable on a glitzy film set, but would she? And then there was Val herself—could they even get on together for a whole summer? They’d been dissimilar enough when they were teenagers; what did they have in common now?

Danielle lathered a facecloth and began scrubbing herself. She’d call Aunt Helen this evening and get Val’s phone number, and then she’d call her cousin and tell her thanks, but no thanks. And that would be the end of that.

But it hadn’t been. ‘Are you nuts?’ Ginny had demanded when she mentioned Val’s invitation in the faculty room at lunch. ‘A free trip to France, and you’re turning it down?’

It had been useless to keep repeating that the trip wasn’t free. It was almost free, her friend had insisted. And not even an explanation of why Val had really tendered the invitation was enough to dim her friend’s enthusiasm.

‘Maybe she’s changed. I mean, wouldn’t it be great if she really wanted the two of you to get close?’

Danielle’s eyes had clouded for a second, but then she’d shaken her head. ‘I’m too old to believe in miracles, Ginny.’

‘Well, then, let her think she’s getting some mileage out of you, the same as when you were kids.’ Ginny had grinned impishly. ‘You’ll be getting yours, too. A summer abroad—on a film set, no less!’

But the final straw had fallen that afternoon. The phone had been ringing as Danielle came in the door. It had been Aunt Helen, calling from Arizona. Her aunt hadn’t let her get a word in before she’d started saying how happy she was that her two girls were going to spend the summer together, and then Uncle John had got on the phone, saying how pleased he was that his girls were still pals, that he hadn’t seen Helen look so bright and chipper since her heart attack.

‘You have to go now,’ Ginny had said innocently. ‘I mean, how can you let your aunt down?’

‘I can’t, I guess,’ Danielle had said.

But she could have, she thought now, shifting in the hard plastic chair at New York’s Kennedy Airport. The simple truth was that she’d hidden behind Ginny’s urgings and Aunt Helen’s delight—she’d wanted to accept Val’s offer all along, she just hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. Teachers were as underpaid in Missouri as they were everywhere else. This might be the only chance she’d have to spend eight weeks in France, at least in the foreseeable future.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, good day. We are now ready to begin boarding Air France’s Flight 010 direct to Nice. Will first-class passengers kindly…’

Danielle’s heartbeat quickened in anticipation. She rose, clutching her shoulder bag in one hand and her carry-on in the other. Her ticket was for a seat well in the rear of the plane, but it didn’t hurt to begin moving towards the gate. The flight would be crowded, she could see that. There were hordes of vacationers jostling each other, lots of squalling babies and—

She stumbled to a sudden halt, her gaze inexorably drawn to the first-class passengers as they moved towards the gate. There was only a handful of them, but the man who’d shared the lounge with her earlier stood out clearly.

Perhaps it was the way he held himself, with a reckless kind of arrogance, or the angle of his shoulders, squared as if he were ready to take on the world. Or was it something far less obvious, some subconscious awareness that drew her to him as it had from the start, some message carried in the darkness of her blood?

Danielle’s breath caught as he came to a sudden stop. The crowd parted and surged past him as he stood still, his head cocked as if listening. He turned slowly, his eyes scanning the huge room, and an electric tingle danced along her spine.

She knew, without question, why his eyes searched every face. He was looking for her, waiting for her.

She took a step back, blending quickly into the crowd. Her heart raced as she watched him.

‘Mesdames et monsieurs…’

The crowd surged past her, blocking him from view. When she looked again, he was gone.

CHAPTER TWO

THE plane was as crowded as Danielle had expected. Passengers jammed the tourist-class aisles, some peering at seat numbers, others elbowing each other aside as they tried to get at the overhead storage hatches.

Her seat was in the rear of the plane, the centre seat in a group of three, and the other two were already occupied.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to the heavyset woman on the aisle side. The woman glanced up, then nodded. Her face was shiny with sweat.

‘Are we going to take off soon, do you think?’ she whispered as Danielle struggled past her.

Danielle smiled politely. ‘I hope so.’

The man in the window seat grumbled something. ‘We’d damned well better,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a connection to make at Nice.’

But their take-off was delayed for almost an hour. Technical problems, the captain announced over the loudspeaker. The phrase sent the heavyset woman into little gasps of anguish and the irritated man into even louder grumbles. By the time the plane was finally airborne, he was fairly twitching. But as soon as the ‘fasten seat belt’ signs blinked off, he put back his seat, closed his eyes, and fell soundly asleep.

To Danielle’s surprise, her white-knuckled companion on the aisle side did the same. The woman’s head lolled back and, within minutes, she was snoring delicately.

Danielle sighed with relief. She’d been afraid the woman’s nervousness would make her want to chatter, and the last thing she felt like doing was making small talk. There was a dull pain in her temple that threatened to work itself into a full-blown headache. And she was as tense as a coiled spring. She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened at the boarding gate. The scene kept playing in her mind like a loop of film that would run over and over until it wore out.

There had to be a way to make sense out of it. She knew what seemed to have happened: the man she’d met in the lounge had expected to see her at the boarding gate. When she hadn’t appeared, he’d looked for her.

End of story.

But she knew that it hadn’t been that simple. She’d felt the intensity of his gaze across the room. And then there had been her own reaction, that thrumming pulse of her blood—

‘Excuse me.’

The low-pitched masculine voice startled her. Her pulse leaped as she looked up. But it was only the man from the window seat, apologising as he made his way past her to the aisle. Danielle sighed and laid her head back. Who else would it have been? The stranger wasn’t going to come looking for her. He was hidden behind the curtains that separated first-class from the rest of the plane. And anyway, why would he want to find her? He’d probably forgotten the whole thing by now.

Which was precisely what she would do, she told herself firmly as she dredged the Frommer’s guidebook that Ginny had given her from the depths of her shoulder bag. She’d be in France soon, and seeing all the lovely old places she’d read about would be a dream come true.

She was deep in a description of Versailles when the woman beside her yawned loudly.

‘My goodness,’ she said with a little laugh, ‘did I fall asleep? I didn’t think I’d—’ Her breath caught. ‘Excuse me,’ she whispered as she leaned heavily across Danielle and stared out of the window, ‘do you see that wing? Is it supposed to look like that?’

Danielle followed the woman’s trembling finger and then she smiled. ‘It looks fine to me,’ she said gently.

Her neighbour touched her tongue to her lips. ‘Are you sure? I—I know it sounds silly, but I thought it looked loose. Just at the end there, you see? Where the metal is so thin.’

Danielle smiled again. ‘I’m sure it’s fine.’

‘Well, if you think so…’ The woman touched her tongue to her lips again. ‘I won’t bother you any more. I’m sure you’d rather read your book.’

Danielle sighed. ‘You didn’t bother me at all,’ she said, closing the Frommer.

‘Are you sure? Well, that’s nice to hear. I’m Alice Davis. Have you been abroad before? I have. One time. Two, really, if you count the trip I took to Bermuda. But that’s not going abroad, is it? Not like Europe, I mean. I always say…’

* * *

Hours later, when the plane finally touched down at the Nice-Côte d’Azur Airport, Danielle almost groaned with relief. Somehow she managed to smile at Alice, who’d talked, almost non-stop, across the entire Atlantic.

‘Aren’t you getting off?’ Alice asked as she eased her bulky self into the aisle.

Danielle looked at the passengers already crowding the narrow space and shook her head.

‘I’ll wait,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t look as if anyone’s going anywhere for a while anyway.’

Alice laughed. ‘You’re probably smart to avoid the crowd. But I can hardly wait to get my feet on solid ground again. And my niece is waiting—I haven’t seen her in a year. You understand.’

Danielle smiled and waved her hand as Alice moved into the queue, and then she settled back into her seat. The man in the window seat had already trampled her toes in his rush to disembark, muttering that he’d never make his connecting flight, thanks to the delay back in New York.

Everyone was in a rush to go somewhere, she thought with a sigh, everyone except her. She had no plane to catch, no one waiting for her at the gate.

‘I won’t be able to meet you, Danni,’ Val had said when Danielle had phoned to confirm her arrival. ‘It’s a working day. But you won’t mind, will you?’

Danielle had said she wouldn’t. But the truth was that there was something awfully lonely about stepping off a plane in a strange country with no one to greet you…

Unless he was waiting, unless he was, even now, watching eagerly for her, scanning each face with those dark blue eyes.

Quickly, Danielle rose and picked up her carry-on and shoulder bag. Alice had been right, she thought as she pushed into the aisle, there was really no sense in sitting here. She might as well get going.

The Nice-Côte d’Azur terminal was disappointing. It was foolish, she knew, but she’d expected something more exotic than this crowded, noisy place that reminded her of airport terminals everywhere. People were jabbering at each other as they lined up around the baggage carousel, but the jabbering was all in English. Well, this was the height of the tourist season, that was what it said in her Frommer—the little she’d managed to read of it, anyway. And the Côte d’Azur was Mecca to both the British and the Americans.

There was a long, slow-moving queue at Customs. Danielle gave the inspector a hesitant smile, but he barely glanced up. He seemed bored, even disinterested, as he held out his hand for her papers.

‘How long will you be in France?’ he asked. ‘Are you here on business or pleasure?’

His English was heavily accented. Without thinking, Danielle responded in French, and suddenly his face was wreathed in smiles.

‘Ah, mademoiselle,’ he said, and he burst into the swift, musical language she had studied and loved for so many years.

French, she thought, he’s speaking real French, and suddenly her heart raced with excitement. She was really here! She was in Europe and the summer lay ahead, the long weeks beckoning like unwrapped gifts lying beneath a Christmas tree.

Danielle dragged her suitcase to the car-rental counter. Her breath hissed from her lungs as she eased it down and flexed her hand wearily. She would be in Ste Agathe soon, with Val. What she’d told Ginny was true—she didn’t believe in miracles and she didn’t expect one—but it was going to be nice to see Val again.

There was so much to catch up on—Val probably had dozens of fantastic stories to tell. While Danielle had been drumming French into unwilling adolescent heads, her glamorous cousin had been burning a swath through New York and Hollywood. She’d been everywhere and done everything—she’d even broken two engagements and who knew how many hearts. Danielle smiled to herself. Listening to Val would be like reading a glossy magazine.

As for the things she’d tell Val, well, there wasn’t all that much to talk about. Danielle liked teaching, but Val would probably think it dull. Her smile dimmed a little. She could tell her about Eddie, of course, how kind he had been, how good.

Eddie. It was the first time she’d thought of him in hours. But that was understandable. Today had been such a rush. First Ginny’s old car had had to be coaxed into starting. She’d had to race to make the plane at St Louis. And then there’d been all that foolishness at the Air France lounge.

But that was all behind her now. Besides, just because she hadn’t thought about Eddie, it didn’t mean she’d forgotten him.

She never would, she thought as she moved slowly forward in the queue. Eddie had been the gentlest man she’d ever known. And he’d loved her very much. She’d loved him too, although not quite the way he’d wanted. But he’d made her feel needed, and perhaps knowing someone needed you was enough. Heaven knew she’d tried to feel what he felt, but it just hadn’t happened. Not even his kisses had made her heart race the way it had when she’d seen the stranger searching for her at the boarding gate.

God! What was she thinking? She couldn’t compare her feelings for Eddie to anything else. She’d loved Eddie, she’d—

‘Mademoiselle?’ Danielle looked up. The clerk at the car-rental counter gave her a polite smile. ‘How may I help you?’

Danielle fumbled in her shoulder bag for her rental agreement. ‘You have a car reserved for me,’ she said. ‘A compact. My name is Danielle Nichols, and I made arrangements in—’

She broke off and stared at the clerk, who was looking down at the rental contract and shaking her head.

‘Alors, I am afraid I have not.’

‘Have not what?’ Danielle asked slowly, her eyes locked on the woman’s face.

‘A car, mademoiselle.’ The clerk looked up and smiled sadly. ‘We have none for you.’

‘But—but of course you have.’ Danielle tapped her finger against the rental agreement. ‘Don’t you see what this says? I have a car reserved for this day. Here’s my name and flight number, the time of my arrival…’

‘Oui. That is exactly so. And you have arrived more than one and one half hours late.’ The woman smiled. ‘You had a car at a discounted price until twenty minutes ago.’

‘You mean I’m too late?’ Danielle sighed. ‘Well, then, I’ll pay the regular price. Not that I think that’s right, you understand. But—’

‘There are no cars, Mademoiselle Nichols. Not at any price.’

Danielle shook her head. ‘That can’t be. I must have a car. I have to drive to Ste Agathe. I don’t know any other way to reach it.’

‘I am terribly sorry, mademoiselle. Perhaps you can take a taxi. There is a stand, just outside. And then, tomorrow…’

A long argument later, Danielle snatched up her suitcase and marched towards the exit doors. Tomorrow, she thought furiously. What good was that? She had to reach Ste Agathe today. Well, she’d just have to take a taxi, although who knew what it would cost? Val had sent her a cramped, hand-drawn map and, for all she knew, Ste Agathe was miles from here. The trip would probably cost a fortune.

Her footsteps slowed, then stopped. She should have asked the clerk what the fare would be. How many francs were there to a dollar, anyway? Five? Six? For that matter, how many francs did she have in her wallet? Not a lot; the guidebook had said it was better to change your money at a bank at your destination.

‘For God’s sake, are you just going to stand there?’

The man’s voice was deep, a little husky, and touched with impatience. Danielle’s mouth went dry as his hand closed around her arm. No, she thought, no, it couldn’t be.

But she knew it was he even before she turned towards him. It was the man she’d run from on another continent. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.

It was a stupid thing to say. But she couldn’t think of anything else. Besides, what was he doing here? He should have left the terminal a long time ago.

He laughed. ‘Saving your tail,’ he said, ‘that’s what I’m doing here. It’s getting to be a habit.’

His eyes met hers, but there was no electric charge in them this time. There was, instead, a look of faint amusement, and she realised suddenly that that was what she’d heard in his voice, too.

He wasn’t impatient with her, he was laughing at her, and not for the first time. The realisation was infuriating.

‘What a gracious way to put it,’ she said coldly. ‘But I’m happy to say I don’t need your help.’

‘Really? And just how in hell are you going to get to Ste Agathe?’

Danielle twisted free of his grasp. ‘I’ll manage,’ she said, and then she frowned. ‘How did you know—?’

‘I overheard your conversation at the car-rental counter.’

Her chin lifted. ‘Are you in the habit of spying on women?’

He laughed softly. ‘Such ego, Miss Nichols. Have you got secrets to hide?’

Danielle felt her cheeks grow pink. Easy, she told herself. Don’t let him shake you. Thanks to him, you’ve already played the fool once.

‘No,’ she said calmly. ‘I just find it strange that we would bump into each other again, especially since I saw you looking for me at Kennedy. You were—’

She broke off in confusion. His eyes darkened and a little smile tilted at the corners of his mouth.

‘Was I?’ he said softly. ‘How could you tell?’

So much for playing it cool. What was she going to say now? She couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t make things worse—which was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so damned tongue-tied. If he just—if he just wouldn’t look at her that way, if he’d just back off so she could catch her breath…

Stop it, she told herself firmly, and she tilted her head back and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘It’s been lovely,’ she said, ‘being charmed by you twice in one day. But you’ll have to forgive me—I’m in a rush. So if you’d just step aside…’

He grinned. ‘At least you’re doing better now than you were a few hours ago.’

Danielle stared at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means,’ he said, ‘that you seem to have decided I’m not the big bad wolf in disguise.’ He sighed and reached for her suitcase. ‘The trouble is, it’s too late for me to appreciate it. I’m tired as hell—I spent damned near the last twenty-four hours in the air, and I just made a call and found out it was all for nothing.’

‘Will you please put down my suitcase?’

‘Don’t give me a hard time, lady. I told you, I’m wiped out.’

Danielle’s eyebrows rose. ‘That’s hardly my problem. Just because you—’

‘Your problem,’ he said, ‘is reaching Ste Agathe, which happens to be exactly where I’m headed.’

His answer stopped her dead. ‘Ste Agathe?’ She looked at him. His expression was unreadable, and after a moment, she shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He muttered something sharp and succinct under his breath, and then he dropped her suitcase to the floor.

‘Look,’ he said, putting his hands on his hips, ‘I’m flattered. Really. I like playing cat and mouse. Hell, any other time I’d be delighted to go on for hours.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But not now. I told you, I’m tired. And I’m irritable. All I want to do is get to my rooms and take a shower.’

Danielle stared at him. ‘Cat and mouse? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re—’

‘Come on, don’t give me that. I make a move and you parry with a cold shoulder. It’s a sexy little game—hell, I didn’t think you knew it, at first. But you do—and you’re damned good at it.’ He moved closer to her, and the slow smile she remembered all too well angled across his mouth. ‘Of course,’ he said in a husky whisper, ‘we could kill two birds with one stone. You must be as tired as I am. Why don’t we go someplace quiet and climb into a shower together?’

Colour flared in Danielle’s cheeks and she reached for her suitcase, snatching it up despite its weight. ‘Not if you were the last man on earth.’

Laughter lit his eyes again. ‘Your choice, sweetheart. Too bad. You would have been great company.’

‘The taxi driver who’s going to take me to Ste Agathe is the only company I want.’

The man grinned. ‘No problem,’ he said, jamming a pair of dark glasses on his nose. ‘Enjoy your ride. Do yourself a favour and tell the driver to take the road to Mont Abat. That should cut off a few kilometres. And tell him you know the law, that you don’t have to pay his gas or share the ride with anyone else. Of course, you’ll have to pay his fare both ways.’

Danielle swallowed. ‘Both ways? But—’

‘It’s a long trip, Miss Nichols. You don’t think these guys work for nothing, do you?’

She hesitated. ‘I—I don’t suppose you know what the fare will be?’

‘Not to the centime, no. But eight hundred francs ought to do it.’

‘Eight hundred…’ She turned pale. ‘But that’s more than a hundred and thirty dollars.’

‘Unless he refuses to go via Mont Abat, in which case you’ll add on another fifty or sixty francs. Oh, and you’ll have to add on a tip, of course.’

‘Of course,’ she said weakly. Slowly, she set her suitcase down beside her. Eight hundred francs. That was almost as much as the cost of renting a car for two weeks. It was an enormous amount of money; it would put a dent in her careful budget, and this was only her first day.

She drew a breath and looked up at the man again. She had the feeling he was watching her closely but it was impossible to be sure, now that his eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses.

‘Are you—are you really going to Ste Agathe?’ she asked.

His lips drew back from his teeth. ‘That’s what I said.’

‘But—but I don’t know you. I mean…’

‘Would a formal introduction make you feel better, Miss Nichols?’

‘I know this must seem very funny to you,’ Danielle said coldly, ‘but I’m not in the habit of going off with strangers.’