Shock Heir For The King (Secret Heirs 0f Billionaires)

by Clare Connelly

‘What makes you think I want to get married?’

  ‘Nothing. Like I said, this would be a business arrangement. And the financial stability is what I think you will find attractive about this proposition.’ He let out a huff of laughter. ‘Nothing else.’

  She stayed silent, and Alex turned slightly, wanting to see her face, able to make it out in the dim room only a little. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed together.

  She looked uneasy, but she also looked...torn. Her hand had slipped from the doorknob, and now her fingers were knotted together. As he gazed at her, she nibbled her lip, her eyes darting this way and that. She looked, he realised, as if part of her was tempted or at least intrigued by his offer, but she didn’t want to admit it.

  ‘Financial stability,’ she finally said. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘I would make marriage worth your while.’ He waited, to see if she asked more, but she shook her head.

  ‘Now that sounds like selling myself, and to a stranger. I think any marriage should have some kind of emotional foundation, if not love.’

  He cocked his head. ‘You almost sound cynical.’

  ‘Cynical—?’

  ‘As if you don’t really believe what you’re saying,’ he clarified. ‘You want to, but you don’t.’

  ‘What I believe or don’t believe is of no concern to you, and of no relevance to this conversation,’ she returned sharply. ‘The answer is still no.’

  ‘Why?’ Alex asked, letting his voice loosen into a lazy drawl. ‘Out of interest?’

  ‘Why?’ She looked and sounded incredulous, but also up against a wall. Figuratively as well as literally, her back pressed to the door, her chest heaving so he could see the rise and fall of her small breasts. A few wisps of light brown hair had escaped from her normally neat ponytail, framing her heart-shaped face. She was, he decided with some surprise, quite lovely. When he’d made the decision to marry her, her looks had not been part of the equation. She was convenient, suitable, and her lowly position meant he would be able to manage her. That was all he required.

  ‘Yes, why?’ he reiterated. ‘Why are you not willing even to consider my offer? Not even a single question as to the nature of our arrangement?’

  ‘You’ve already made the nature quite clear—’

  ‘You mean sex?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ she nearly spluttered.

  ‘You object to having sex with your husband?’

  ‘I object to marrying someone I don’t feel anything for, someone I don’t even know—’

  ‘Yet people have been doing that for centuries. Millennia.’

  ‘Even so...’

  ‘You told me you weren’t interested in romance.’

  ‘Not at this point in my life, no.’

  ‘Or perhaps ever, I believe your words were. So...?’

  ‘That doesn’t mean I want to marry you.’ She sounded exasperated now. Alex allowed himself a cold little smile.

  ‘Would five million euros change your thinking?’

  Her mouth opened. Closed. And then again. Her eyes wide and as brown and soft as pansies. ‘That’s a lot of money,’ she finally said, her voice faint.

  ‘Indeed.’ He cocked his head. ‘Would you like to hear the particulars now?’

  She bit her lip. ‘You think I’ll change my mind simply because of money? That’s insulting.’

  ‘Financial stability,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s a powerful incentive.’

  ‘I’m not some gold-digger.’ The words burst out of her, like an old wound breaking open. Alex wondered at it.

  ‘I know you’re not.’

  ‘I won’t sell myself.’

  ‘So you keep saying, but to think of it that way is distasteful. We are talking marriage, remember. Not being a mistress.’

  ‘Yet it’s true nevertheless.’

  ‘Not necessarily. It’s a deal, Miss James. We both get something out of it.’

  She shook her head slowly, her eyes still wide. ‘Considering the nature of our conversation, perhaps you should call me Milly.’

  Victory loomed closer, elusive but possible. Probable, even. She hadn’t stormed out of the room. She hadn’t slapped his face. She hadn’t seen it, either. They would get to that all in good time. ‘Very well, Milly. Why don’t you take a seat?’

  ‘All right.’ Milly walked with careful, deliberate steps to one of the leather club chairs in front of his desk and sank into it, ankles neatly crossed, hands linked at her waist like a respectable matron. ‘Can we turn the light on?’ she asked. ‘I can barely make you out, and I’ve never actually seen you in person, which seems ridiculous considering the nature of our discussion.’

  He tensed, and then made himself relax. ‘I’m averse to light.’

  ‘You’re not a vampire, are you?’ It was obviously a joke, but she still sounded uncertain.

  ‘No, most certainly not.’ He turned to face her, angling his head in a way he knew would hide the worst. ‘I’ll turn it on in a moment, perhaps, after we’ve discussed some of the details.’

  ‘Why me?’ Milly asked bluntly. ‘Why not someone far more suitable?’

  ‘Because you’re here,’ Alex answered just as bluntly. ‘And you’re happy to remain on this island. And in the six months you’ve been in my employ, you’ve seemed trustworthy and hardworking, or so my man here, Yiannis, tells me.’

  ‘Yiannis has been reporting on me?’

  ‘Merely relaying his approval of you.’

  ‘Oh.’ She sounded surprised. ‘He and his wife are very kind. They’ve been welcoming to me.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he returned smoothly. It was all seeming very promising. She clearly liked living here, and she wanted the money. All that remained was whether she could stomach looking at him—and sharing his bed.

  ‘And those are your only qualifications for a wife?’ Milly asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Really?’ She sounded cynical again. ‘You don’t care about your wife’s likes or dislikes? Her sense of humour, or her sense of honour? What about what kind of mother she’ll be?’

  Alex’s mouth compressed. ‘I don’t have the luxury to care about those things.’ Ezio’s latest escapade had provoked a knee-jerk reaction in him to sort this, and quickly.

  Milly was silent, and Alex watched her, noticing the emotions that crossed her face like ripples in water. Indecision, fear, but something else, as well. Something darker...guilt, perhaps, or grief. His proposition had struck a painful chord inside her. He was almost certain of it. ‘And why an heir?’ she asked at last. ‘Isn’t that rather an outdated concept?’

  ‘It’s a biological one.’

  ‘Still.’

  ‘I want to pass my business on to my child.’

  ‘A son?’

  ‘Or a daughter. It doesn’t matter.’

  She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make him out. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because if I don’t,’ Alex answered tersely, ‘it passes to my stepbrother, who is likely to run it into the ground in a matter of months.’

  ‘It’s not like an aristocratic title, is it? Why should it pass to him?’

  He drew a quick breath, forcing himself to relax as the memories bombarded him. Christos, looking so pale and weak, one claw-like hand extended towards him. Begging him. And Ezio, drunk in some nightclub, not even bothering to show up, to say goodbye to his flesh-and-blood father. ‘Because my stepfather stipulated it in his will. The business was originally his, and he bequeathed it to me when he died. But he made a provision that if I should die without issue, it passes to my stepbrother.’

  ‘That all sounds rather archaic.’

  Alex inclined his head. ‘Family ties are strong in this country.’

  ‘Yet it’s your stepfather,’ Milly pointed out. ‘This isn
’t about flesh and blood.’

  ‘He was a father to me more than any other man was,’ Alex answered gruffly. Emotion clutched at his throat, made it hard to speak. ‘And the will is watertight. This is my only option.’

  ‘What about adoption? Surrogacy?’

  ‘As I said, time is of the essence. I’m thirty-six, and I want my child to be an adult when I pass the business on. Also, I believe a child should have a mother as well as a father. Family is important to me.’ The words ignited a blaze of pain inside him, and he snuffed it out quickly. Coldly. The only way he knew how, to keep on living.

  ‘What if I can’t get pregnant?’ Milly asked baldly. ‘There are no guarantees.’

  ‘You’d need to have a full medical check before we wed.’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘The rest is up to God.’

  ‘Would you want other children?’

  He almost laughed at that. He knew she certainly wouldn’t, not once she saw him. ‘No, one will suffice. After that I will leave you alone.’

  ‘Would I have to live on this island for the rest of my life?’

  ‘You wouldn’t be a prisoner, if that’s what you are implying.’

  ‘Would we have any kind of...relationship?’ She spoke the word hesitantly, as if probing a sore tooth.

  ‘We would treat each other with courteous respect, I should hope.’

  ‘But beyond that?’

  He couldn’t keep from recoiling just a little, just as he knew she would once she saw him. ‘Is that something you want?’

  ‘I... I don’t know.’ She shook her head, her teeth worrying away at her lower lip. ‘This is all so unexpected. I can’t even think straight.’

  ‘Yet you are considering it?’

  ‘I shouldn’t.’ She shook her head, expelling her breath in a gusty sigh. ‘I don’t even know why I am, if just a little. The tiniest bit.’ It came out like a warning.

  ‘The five million, perhaps.’ He kept his voice light, inviting her to see the humour. To share it with him.

  She shot him a look of wry amusement, and something small and warm bloomed inside him, something unexpected. When had he last shared a look with another person, even in the dark? ‘Yes, that might have something to do with it.’

  ‘I don’t hold it against you.’

  ‘And so you shouldn’t, since you’re the one who offered it. But perhaps I hold it against myself.’ Her words came out sharply; the moment was broken, that small bit of warmth snuffed out.

  Alex watched as Milly rose from the chair, pacing the room, rubbing her hands together as if she were cold. ‘No, this can’t work,’ she muttered, mostly to herself. ‘I can’t let myself, not like—’ She broke off, shaking her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I won’t.’ She turned to him resolutely, her look one of both apology and determination. ‘The answer is no, Kyrie Santos,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sorry. I hope this won’t affect our working relationship.’

  Alex stared at her, refusing to betray his irritation and, yes, his disappointment, with so much as a flicker. And he did feel disappointed—more even than he’d expected. He could find someone else. He knew that. Yet her rejection stung, because that was what it was. It felt personal, even though he knew it shouldn’t. And the laughable part was, he hadn’t even turned the light on.

  Copyright © 2019 by Kate Hewitt

  ISBN-13: 9781488044533

  Shock Heir for the King

  Copyright © 2019 by Clare Connelly

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com