Читать книгу: «The Ballantyne Billionaires»

To the reader: thank you for spending

your precious time with my characters.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

In Bangkok International Airport, Beckett Ballantyne, his booted feet resting on his backpack, looked across the row of seats to Cady and smiled. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving as she silently sang along to whatever she was listening to via the new pair of earbuds she’d bought in Pantip Plaza yesterday.

A light green bandeau held her long, deep brown hair off her face and turned her wintry eyes a light green. Sitting with her heels on the seat of her chair and wearing denim shorts, a white tank and beaded bracelets, she looked exactly like what she was: a sexy backpacker seeing the world.

With that half smile on her face, the flirt of a dimple in her cheek, she would make anyone looking at her envious of her freedom, jealous of her next adventure.

She was young, gorgeous and adventurous and, no one, Beck was certain, would suspect that she was utterly miserable.

Not with him. They were, as far as he knew, perfectly fine for a couple who’d met and run off to South East Asia together within a month of meeting at an off-campus party in New York. Technically, since his trip was planned, she’d run off, choosing to spend the long summer holidays after freshman year traveling with him.

Her staid, conservative, churchy parents had freaked.

Beck glanced at the phone in her hand and he wondered how many emails and voice messages they’d left, begging her to come home. How many tears would she shed this time? How long would it take her to come out of the funk their recriminations tossed her into?

In Beckett’s mind it was psychological torture, and her parents just kept up the pressure. She was wasting her life; she was a disrespectful daughter; she was living in sin with him...

Her father had an ulcer; her mother was depressed. How could she be enjoying her trip when they were so miserable? They missed her and worried constantly about her—what if she was kidnapped and sold into the sex trade? They’d heard there was a bomb blast in Thailand—what if she was caught up in an explosion?

He’d told her to ignore them, to only check in once a week, but Cady couldn’t disconnect. Their mind games turned her into a conflicted mess. She wanted to be with him but her guilt over disappointing her parents was eating her from the inside out.

He knew that she felt stuck in the middle. He thought her parents were narrow-minded and they thought he was a spoiled rich kid, the spawn of Satan because he lured their innocent daughter overseas with the sole intention of corrupting her.

If one could call worshipping her body at every opportunity corruption...

Beck felt the action in his pants and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, readily admitting that he couldn’t get enough of Cady. At twenty-three, he’d had other lovers, so he couldn’t understand why he was utterly addicted to making love with her, being with her.

If he believed in the emotion, he might think that he was in love. But since he didn’t, wouldn’t allow himself to, he did what he always did and pushed those uncomfortable thoughts away.

Her parents’ disapproval would’ve been easier for Cady to handle if she genuinely loved traveling, loved experiencing the hugely different cultures they stepped into. But having been protected and cocooned, she’d cried at the poverty and slums she saw in India, been shocked by the sex trade in Phuket. The crowds, the sounds and strange food threw her, and the lack of English disoriented her. He couldn’t fault her for trying, and she didn’t whine but she wasn’t enjoying the experience. It didn’t help that she’d had her wallet lifted, her butt touched and had to spend four days in a grungy bathroom, her arms wrapped around a cracked toilet bowl.

He’d thought she’d enjoy the clear sea and white-sand beaches of Phi Phi, the island they’d just returned from. But Cady was miserable. And because Cady was miserable, he was, too. He’d thought that their desperate need to be with each other could conquer anything.

He was so wrong.

With his ridiculously high IQ, being wrong was not a concept he was very familiar with.

God, these last two weeks together would be torture. Every time he thought of her leaving, his stomach knotted and his lungs seized. They had a plan, he reminded himself; they’d agreed to three months together and then she’d head back to college and he’d continue his travels.

But after two and a half months together, he knew that he could no longer take her, and his feelings for her, lightly. And that realization made him feel like his life was spinning out of control. While his little brain was already mourning her departure, his big brain was insisting they could do with some distance, some time apart. He needed a lot of space and quite a bit of time apart because he was starting to suspect that she might be the beat of his heart, the breath on his lips, the reason the sun rose in the morning.

He had to let her go because, if he wasn’t careful, he could love her with a fierce, crazy, forever type of love. Love like that meant taking a very real risk, a huge leap of faith. It made him feel lost, exposed and far too vulnerable—all the emotions he’d been trying to avoid since he was eight. Love meant pain, and he was too smart to put himself in harm’s way.

Love meant losing control.

Love was also, it was said, supposed to make you feel happy and complete. He didn’t deserve to feel happy and he’d never feel complete. How could he when he was the reason his parents’ remains, and those of his unborn sibling, were scattered on a mountain in Vermont?

Beck felt his cell phone vibrate in his back pocket and pulled it out. He smiled at the name on the display. He had two older brothers, Linc through adoption and Jaeger through birth, and he loved them equally.

They were also equally annoying in their belief that he needed looking after. The fact that he was taller and bigger than both of them didn’t stop them fussing over him and his younger sister, Sage.

This time it was Jaeger calling.

“Jay, what’s up?” he asked after answering the call.

“Just checking up on you. Any trouble?”

Beck rolled his eyes. He wasn’t that stupid; he wasn’t stupid at all. “Actually, I was just about to call you. We’re sitting in a Thai jail. They found some coke on us.”

There was long silence before Jaeger released a harsh curse. “That’s not funny, Beck.”

Beck grinned. “I thought it was.”

“You are such an ass.”

Beck tapped Cady on her knee and pointed to his backpack, silently telling her to keep an eye on his stuff. She nodded and Beck stood up to walk toward the window looking out onto the busy tarmac.

“Where are you? Bangkok?” Jaeger asked. “And are you still heading for Vietnam?”

“That’s the plan, why?”

“I’m heading there day after next. I’ve had a tip about a new rustic mine in Yen Bai producing some very high quality rubies. Want to come with me and see what we can buy?”

Beck felt a spurt of excitement, the kick of adrenaline at the thought of hunting gems with his brother to supply the demands of Ballantyne’s rich and demanding clients. “Hell, yes.”

Then he remembered that he wasn’t traveling alone. “Can I bring Cady?”

“I’m not sure of the area, Beck. I wouldn’t,” Jaeger replied. “Can’t she stay in Hanoi by herself for a couple of days?”

Beck ran his hand over the back of his neck. The backpackers they’d met on Phi Phi were heading to Hanoi, as well, and they were all staying at the same backpacker’s hostel. Maybe they—and their new friend Amy especially—could keep an eye on Cady for a few days. He was fairly certain she’d be okay.

Then the disapproving faces of Cady’s parents jumped onto the big screen of his mind and he instantly felt guilty. He was responsible for Cady, not Amy.

“Let me think about it,” he told Jaeger. But he knew he couldn’t leave Cady in Hanoi by herself.

“No worries,” Jaeger replied. “I’m glad that you’ve reconciled yourself to traveling. Connor was worried that you wouldn’t but I knew that our parents’ adventurous spirit was still in you, albeit deeply buried.”

“It’s not like I have a choice, Jaeger. That was the ultimatum Connor and Linc gave me, supported by you, I might add.”

Yeah, he enjoyed traveling but he was still pissed that his uncle and his brothers refused to allow him to join Ballantyne’s until he’d taken a gap year or two.

“You know why, Beck,” Jaeger said, his deep voice low and concerned. “You’ve been operating at warp speed since you were a kid. You finished school early, partly because you’re brilliant, but mostly because you worked your tail off. You made the national swim championships because every moment you weren’t studying you were in the pool. When you gave up competitive swimming we thanked God because we thought you might finally get a life. Date some girls, have some fun, get into some trouble. Not you. You went off to college and got your master’s in business in record time. You’re twenty-three years old and you’ve spent the past ten years working your ass off. If you come back to Ballantyne’s, you’ll do exactly the same thing. So we don’t care if you sit on a beach for the next eight months or if you enter an ashram, but what you aren’t doing is going straight to work.”

Beck gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He’d heard this lecture a hundred times before.

“Anyway, this is a stupid conversation because we all know that you love traveling.”

He did. He loved the freedom it gave him, loved the anonymity. While traveling, he was Beck, no surname attached. For the first time in fifteen years he felt marginally free, a little at peace, a lot chilled.

“Do you think that tying yourself to Cady while you travel is a good idea?” Jaeger asked.

“What are you talking about?”

Beck glanced at Cady, who met his eyes and gave him that quick, sunburst smile that always jump-started his heart.

“According to her social media posts, she’s ditching school and spending the next year traveling with you.”

What the hell...?

“She’s going back to school,” Beck said, forcing the words up his tight throat.

“Uh...not according to Sage, who follows both of you on social media. It was girl speak...something about her loving you enough to continue traveling with you.”

A large bead of sweat rolled down his temple and into his heavy stubble. A loud bell clanged in his ears, and his stomach felt like it had taken a ride on a death-defying roller coaster.

That wasn’t the plan. He needed them to stick to the plan.

“That’s not happening.” He managed, through his panic, to push the words out.

“Look,” Jaeger said, impatient, “I’ve got more important things to do than talk about your love life. Just let me know about ruby-hunting in Yen Bai.”

Using his phone, Beck pulled up her social media account and yep, Cady had posted something about not returning to college and extending her trip with him.

Beck pocketed his phone and gripped the railing separating him from the floor-to-ceiling windows. He dropped his head and stared at his grubby boots. Fear, hot and acidic, burned a ring of fire around his heart, up his throat and coated his mouth in a bitter film.

She was supposed to be a three-month fling. This wasn’t supposed to get this intense, this quickly. He’d been banking on her going home, heading back to college. Her leaving had been his safety net, the way he stopped himself from falling all the way in love with her. If she stayed with him, he doubted he could resist her and then he’d be up crap creek in a sinking canoe.

He wasn’t prepared to go there. If he loved her and lost her...

Hell, no. Not happening.

Why hadn’t she spoken to him first before blabbing online? He knew that her choosing him over her parents was her way of making a statement but hell, hers wasn’t the only seat on this train. He had a right to decide whether he wanted to keep traveling with her. He couldn’t bear to see her go but he couldn’t risk his heart by her staying.

Devil, meet the deep blue sea.

The only rational option, his instinctive reaction, was to stick to the plan they’d decided on back in New York. She needed to go home, go back to college and he’d see her at Christmas. The only deviation he was prepared to make to that plan was to send her home as quickly as possible. They were in an airport and that could be accomplished right now.

Because if he didn’t walk away today, he knew that he never would.

His decision made, Beck walked over to her and picked up his backpack with one hand and grabbed hers with another.

Cady pulled out the earbuds and slung her smaller backpack over her shoulder as she stood up. “What’s up?”

When Beck gestured to the familiar logo of an American carrier at the neighboring gate, her eyes flashed with joy. “Oh, my God, we’re going home?” she squealed, dancing on the spot.

He just looked at her, wanting her to understand without having to say the words. After a little confused silence, the light faded from her eyes and color leached from her face. “You’re not coming with me?”

Beck shook his head.

He dropped the backpacks at his feet and slapped his hands on his hips. It took him a while to find the words he needed. “Jaeger wants me to meet him in Vietnam to look for rubies with him, and you can’t come with, and I can’t leave you on your own.”

Cady’s bottom lip trembled and she rocked on her heels, looking like he’d sideswiped her with a stick, but he continued. “It’s only two weeks early, Cady, and it’s not like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I love spending time with you! In fact, I had just decided that I want to stay, to ignore my folks’ disapproval, to get into the hang of this. I want to be with—”

Beck jumped in before she could finish that sentence. “You’re going back to school, Cady. That was always the plan. I’m just sending you home two weeks early.”

Cady took a step back and her eyes filled with tears. “You’re sending me home?”

Oh, damn, bad choice of words. “I’ll be home for Christmas. We can reevaluate then.”

“You’re sending me home?” Cady repeated his words, emphasizing each one.

“Christmas is in three months—”

Cady’s lips firmed and she folded her arms across her torso. “Do you love me, Beck?” she demanded.

Ah, no. Not this question. He could love her, he silently admitted, and that was why she needed to go back to the States. Falling in love with Cady, with anyone, wasn’t something he was prepared to do.

When he didn’t answer, Cady grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his skin.

Beck jerked his arm away and forced himself to meet her eyes. Oh, damn, he wished he hadn’t because, as long as he lived, he’d remember the betrayal he saw within them, the pain he’d caused. Cady lifted her hand to grab the fabric of his shirt just above his heart, twisting it in her fist. “Don’t do this, Beck. Don’t throw us away, don’t toss me aside. We can fix this.”

“That’s the thing, Cades, I can’t be fixed.”

It was a special type of hell, Beck thought, to watch a heart break. It was even worse when you were responsible for it breaking.

One

Almost a decade later

Sitting at one of the many high tables in Bonnets, a swish cocktail bar just off Fifth Avenue, Cady Collins had to physically stop herself from appropriating the massive salt-rimmed margarita delivered to the table next to her. The taste buds on the back of her tongue tingled as she imagined the perfect combination of salt and the sugar-tinged tang of tequila.

It had been a tequila type of day and week. Year.

The waiter turned to her, lifted an eyebrow at her empty glass. “Another virgin Bloody Mary?”

God, Friday night and she was in the most reviewed cocktail bar in the city—the joke was that Bonnets had the license to serve cocktails to the angels—and she was drinking tomato juice.

How sad.

Cady saw the screen of her phone light up, saw the display say The Boss and sighed as she lifted the device to her ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Cady, where are you?” Edna Collins asked in her best I’m-the-preacher’s-wife voice.

Cady resisted the urge to tell her that she was in a bar tucking dollar bills into the tiny thong of a muscled, oiled male stripper. You’re an adult. You don’t need to try to shock your parents anymore.

“What’s the matter, Mom?”

Edna called her at precisely 8:00 p.m. every second Sunday. A call outside that time meant that something had rattled The Force.

“You might have heard that the preacher at our sister church in Wilton is retiring and the church has been looking for a suitable replacement.”

Not really. She didn’t keep up with what was happening in the exciting world of church politics in upstate New York.

Cady sent another look at the icy margarita and felt her mouth tingle. One little sip... How much damage could one sip do?

“Your father is being considered.”

“Good for him,” Cady replied because she was expected to say something.

“We need you to come home in two weeks,” Edna stated, her voice suggesting that an argument would not be tolerated.

“Me? Why?”

“Your father is undergoing a process of rigorous interviews. I will be interviewed, as well. As you are our only child, they want to meet you, too.”

Cady wanted to tell her mother that she wasn’t an only child, that she’d had a brother, that his life mattered, but as always she refrained. Will wasn’t someone they regularly discussed. Or at all.

“Mother, what possible bearing could I have on the proceedings? I live in New York City, and I rarely come home.”

“You never come home,” Edna corrected.

That might be because home was the place where she had no wiggle room, where there was no room for error. Home was a place of pressure, with a lot of interest shown but little love. After Will was sent away, she’d lived in constant fear that she would be, too.

Home was hymnal music and stockings, religious books and piety.

Cady shuddered. “Well, sorry. That’s not going to happen.”

Cady heard her mother’s shocked gasp. “But you have to! Not meeting with the interview committee would reflect very badly on your father and his chance to secure this position. It’s a big church, Cady, with a lot of resources. Since you put that traveling nonsense behind you, you’ve been a model daughter, a credit to us. Highly educated, with your own business. I have no doubt you are an example to others in that sin-filled city.”

Yeah, Cady Collins, the beacon for clean living. Oh, God, her mother was going to die when she heard her latest news. As for that traveling nonsense, her time in Thailand with Beck was the only time she felt completely herself. Free.

Loved. For a brief moment in time, she’d felt so loved.

“It would be a huge step up for him,” her mother droned on. “And when they meet you, they’ll have the proof that we have raised a God-fearing, smart young woman who has her feet firmly on the ground.”

If the statement wasn’t so sad, she’d roll on the floor and wet herself laughing. “Mom, trust me, you really don’t want me there. Find an excuse and we’ll save a lot of trouble.”

“I have no idea what you’re rambling about and I don’t have the time to argue with you. We have guests for dinner. Do not disappoint us, Cady,” Edna snapped before she disconnected.

Cady gently tapped the corner of her phone against the tabletop. She’d left home more than a decade ago, but the urge to please her parents was still strong. In their small rural town in upstate New York, she’d been the popular pastor’s kid. Honor student, cheerleader, student council president, homecoming queen. Pretty, popular, nice. As perfect as she could possibly be.

She said “please” and “thank you” and “excuse me” and ran errands and never missed church. She didn’t smoke or drink or party or date because she was an “example.” She’d never had the chance to be a regular kid, to mess up, to fail.

The pressure to be perfect was immense and it was generally accepted that she became an overachiever because that was what her parents expected. Sure, that was part of the reason, but no one knew that she was terrified of messing up, of doing or saying the wrong thing.

Of being banished like Will, her older brother.

As a result, her desire to please her parents still lingered. They wouldn’t be very impressed with her now, she thought, reflecting on the trouble she’d landed herself in. Then again, she was fairly sure that Edna and Bill Collins had been expecting her to mess up again since she’d run off to Southeast Asia with Beck Ballantyne nine years before. She’d wanted to be with Beck more than she’d wanted to please her mom and dad and...boom! Fireworks.

This latest bombshell would rock their world again. Cady pushed the tips of her fingers into her forehead and held back a whimper. And that was without telling them that her business was rocky and she was running out of options to keep it on the rails.

“Cady?”

Cady jerked her head up to see a small blonde and a tall brunette standing next to her table. The blonde looked familiar, but she instantly recognized the classic good looks of Julia Parker, a Fortune 500 business consultant who socialized with the great and good of New York society. Cady would never forget Julia, especially since the woman had recently convinced Trott’s Sports—a corporate sports store that was one of two clients that paid Cady a hefty monthly retainer—to not renew their contract with Collins Consulting.

Thank God she was still contracted to Natural Fuel, Tom’s company, a chain of health food outlets, to handle their media releases and promotions. Without that contract, she’d be sunk.

Losing Trott’s had left her with a sizable hole in her business bank account. And without her biggest client. Cady resisted the urge to toss her tomato juice over Julia’s pristine white dress and instead held out her hand to shake. God, sometimes being an adult sucked.

“Cady Collins, Collins Consulting.”

Julia immediately made the connection.

“Trott’s... They couldn’t afford to renew,” Julia murmured, and wrinkled her nose. “Sorry.”

Cady shrugged.

“Are you doing okay?”

Julia’s question surprised her; she didn’t expect her to ask or to sound like she cared. Cady lifted her hands up in a “what can I do” gesture. “It’s tough.”

“For what it’s worth, I like your work,” Julia stated, and Cady heard and appreciated the sincerity in her statement.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” the blonde demanded, pulling their attention back to her, her smile bright and big.

Cady shook her head.

“I’m Amy Cook. We met on Phi Phi island when you were traveling with Beck years ago.”

Beck. Funny, she’d just been thinking about him. Like that’s a coincidence, Cady mocked herself. You’ve been thinking about the man, pretty much constantly, for the best part of the last decade.

Cady cocked her head and peered at the woman. The image of her with waist-length blond hair and a thong bikini popped into her head. “I remember you. You flirted shamelessly with Beck.”

“She flirts with everyone. Don’t take it personally,” Julia said, a rich chuckle following her words.

“Do you live in Manhattan?” Amy demanded. “What do you do? Are you married? Do you have children?”

Cady didn’t know which question to answer first. Work was easy, the other questions were a tad more complicated. “Um... I live in Brooklyn and I have my own PR company.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Really? Seriously?”

Millions of women worked in PR and many owned their own companies. Why was this such a surprise? Speaking of business, she desperately needed to drum up some, and it wasn’t every day that she bumped into one of the best business consultants in the city, so Cady reached into her tote bag and pulled out a business card.

She handed Julia the card with a small shrug. “I’d be grateful if you kept me in mind if any of your clients need PR or any marketing help. I’m good, efficient and reasonable.”

Julia took the card from her and nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Amy cocked her head, and her dark brown eyes connected with Cady’s. “You didn’t tell me if you’re married or if you have children.”

Yeah, right. She was not discussing any of those thorny subjects with a woman she’d exchanged ten words with nearly ten years ago.

Cady looked at the entrance of Bonnets and faked a smile. “Ah, the person I’m waiting for has arrived. It was interesting running into you again, Amy. Nice to meet you, Julia.”

“But—” Amy protested.

“Come on.” Julia placed a hand on Amy’s back and pushed her away. “Let’s find someone else you can practice your CIA interrogation skills on.”

Cady rolled her eyes. Of all the people in the world she’d thought she’d never see again, and whom she never wanted to see again, Amy was at the top of her list. Nearly a decade ago, Beck had tired of Cady and he’d sent her home so that he could sow his wild oats all over the Asian subcontinent. Once Cady left, she was sure Amy had stepped right on into the space, in bed and out, that Cady had occupied in Beck’s life.

Beck had been and still was the honey that female bees flocked to. She watched his subtle flirting, heard him laughing with Amy, and she’d felt like she couldn’t compete with the blonde bombshell.

Cady was long, lanky and not overly blessed, as her boyfriend, Tom, told her often enough, in the “boobage” department. But it was more than that. Beck, Amy and the other backpackers they’d met had been just so together, so effortlessly confident. Of course, there were the stoners and weirdos and the lost, but many of the travelers had their lives sorted. They were street-smart and confident and knew where they were going and what to do when they got there.