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‘And she got a job working for someone in England?’

‘Mmm.’ He nodded crisply, his eyes glittering with a coldness that chilled her to the core. ‘Gerald Montgomery White.’ He said the name with abject disapproval.

She waited, watching him, curiosity expanding in her chest.

‘You didn’t like that?’

He was quiet for a long time, so she wondered if he was planning to ignore her, but then he expelled a long, gruff sigh. ‘Not particularly.’ He dropped his hand to her hip, tracing invisible circles there, his eyes transfixed by the gesture. ‘She was a nanny, but they treated her like a slave. All her time was taken up by those children. And they were spoiled rotten, with a fog of entitlement trailing in their wake. I hated them.’

She grimaced. ‘I’ve known people like that.’

‘I’ll bet you have,’ he drawled.

‘You thought I was like that,’ she said, her eyes widening as comprehension dawned. ‘When we first met! You were all things at dinner that night about where I grew up. You honestly thought I was one of those bratty kids, didn’t you?’

His eyes probed hers and he nodded. ‘Yes.’

She punched his arm, mo

ck-playfully. ‘Thanks a lot.’

‘You had nannies growing up?’

‘Yes.’ Her expression softened as she thought of Cara. ‘But she was like another mother to Cam and me.’ And then, her heart shifted. ‘She was fired, after Cam...’ She shook her head to clear the memory, not wanting to go down that path. ‘When did she pass away?’

‘Almost twenty years ago,’ he said. ‘They didn’t come to her funeral.’

‘You wanted to keep it small?’

He shook his head. ‘No. They were told of the date. None of them came. None of the children she raised—the children she raised while I was sent away to school.’ His jaw tightened, his gaze awash with resentment. She lifted a hand to his chest, feeling the steady, deep beating of his heart with a rush of her own heartbeats. ‘It was as though she didn’t matter, like her life meant nothing.’ His frown was deep, his expression so rich with feeling she found it hard to interpret his emotions.

She chose her words with care. ‘That must have made it feel like she chose other children over you, and for nothing. I can imagine why you’d feel angry.’

His eyes slammed into hers, shock evident in their depths, as though he hadn’t expected her to understand how he felt.

‘Yes. It diminished her life. She deserved better.’

She nodded. ‘You must have been hurt.’

‘I was furious,’ he muttered. ‘I was sixteen years old and I’d spent six months preparing to lose my mother—she had cancer, terminal. But nothing prepares you for quite what that sense of being alone will feel like. It was the hardest day of my life, standing in the cemetery as her casket was lowered into the ground. That was the day I swore I would make the kind of money they took for granted.’

His features assumed a mask that was fearsome and compelling.

‘I bought this island from a man named Ranulph Montgomery White—one of the boys she first looked after when we moved to England. He was a particularly nasty piece of work and seemed to delight in trying to make me miserable. I hated him and he hated me. So when this island came on the market...’

His smile was wolf-like.

‘He’d developed a gambling addiction and needed the money. I drove the price down until it was a steal, and he was so desperate by then that he was practically begging me to go through with it. It’s one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done—sitting opposite a man who’d been a cruel, selfish bastard of a boy, who’d treated me and my mother as though we were nothing, and making him beg me to buy the place from him.’

Despite the chill that spread through her body, she couldn’t help but feel a grudging sense of admiration at what he’d achieved, even if his motivations left a little to be desired.

‘When I was sixteen, and I lost my mother, I swore I’d make her sacrifices count. And I have.’

‘She would have been proud of you.’ And then, with a flicker of a smile, ‘Not for the maniacal revenge stuff, but for the incredible empire you’ve built. You are formidable and impressive.’ She lifted a hand to his cheek, holding his face steady. ‘She would have been proud of you, but I’m sure she was anyway.’

His eyes clung to hers, as though he couldn’t pull them away, and she felt the same, her gaze locked to his.

‘I’ve never known anyone like you,’ she whispered, wondering at the heaviness that accompanied that admission.


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance