Her Billionaire Betrayal (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 3)

by Danni Lee Nicholls

  Indigo shivered in her heavy coat. She missed the evergreens of her Pacific Northwest home. Their full branches softened whatever horizon she gazed at, and small songbirds nestled within the boughs, filling the air with song. She turned away from the bare trees and noticed the fire-truck-red Tesla in the lot. It was parked away from her older Subaru, and she hadn’t seen it when she’d pulled in. With the parking lot empty, all one hundred thousand plus dollars of the vehicle were hard to miss. She resisted the urge to stare and instead moved toward her older car. Folding herself inside, she turned the key, and the engine sprang to life as Cole Demetrius walked from the building. She studied him briefly. Maybe he was awkward around people, or maybe she was on her last nerve.

  As if feeling her gaze, he stopped to look at Indigo. She took a deep breath and offered him a sincere, cautious smile.

  He returned her effort with a grimace that was probably supposed to pass as a salutation along with a tight nod.

  Inwardly, Indigo rolled her eyes. Whatever. She pulled her gaze from Cole and put the car in reverse before turning around. Looking in the rearview mirror, she watched Cole move toward the Tesla. He carried a certain elegant grace in his movement. Did he dance? It didn’t matter. As long as she didn’t have to make him a dance costume, his business wasn’t any of hers. Pushing on the gas, she focused her gaze through her windshield, giving her attention to the road, but thoughts of Cole refused to budge. With a car like that, maybe he really didn’t have anything better to do than follow around a bunch of preteens for costume fittings.

  Chapter Three

  Like magic, the door of the Tesla opened automatically as Cole neared the car, making him smile. Everything about the car pleased him, especially the way it purred to life as he placed his foot on the brake, like a cat waking up from a nap. Moving the gears into reverse, he backed up before putting the car into drive, heading toward the road.

  Thoughts of the seamstress skittered across the surface of his mind. She was petite and cute with her jet-black hair and big blue eyes, her lips forming a heart-shaped bow with a generous smile on rare occasion. She had the habit of tucking her hair behind her ears.

  She wasn’t anything like Jessica.

  His stomach clenched. He didn’t like thinking of Jessica, although there had been a time when thoughts of her had pleased him more than any car or seamstress. Her long blond hair and longer legs grabbed attention wherever the two of them showed up. But their messy breakup, and now her jail sentence for embezzlement, made thoughts of her loathsome. He could still see pictures of Jessica draped in orange splashed across the tabloid in the checkout stand, her dazzling blue eyes smeared with mascara, accompanied by screaming headlines: “Billionaire Playboy’s Girlfriend Indicted for Embezzling from Café Oceanus!”

  The clenching turned to burning nausea as Cole’s shame and hurt over Jessica’s betrayal overrode everything else. He had dragged his family and their restaurant business into this sordid affair. Heat rose into Cole’s throat. He dropped his shoulders and took a deep breath, doing his best to focus on the road to help quell the tension rising from his stomach into the rest of his body. Blinking, he brought his attention back to the task of driving as he maneuvered the car along the curves of the Ozarks and back to his home in the Mountain Cove development.

  He stroked the carbon fiber steering wheel; the coolness of it helped him focus on the road. He loved his Tesla and its understated elegance along with the zero emissions—something that had mattered to him a great deal when he’d lived in Seattle and the ocean-driven air of the Pacific. Everything about Eureka Springs was also clean and fresh, and the Tesla helped him keep it that way. The car took the curves of the country roads easily before he pulled into the long drive to his home and stopped to wait for the garage door to rise. He caressed the steering wheel one last time. The Tesla was the only thing he brought with him to Arkansas from his former life.

  Closing down his home in Washington hadn’t filled him with the anguish he had expected. With just a few articles of clothing and toiletries, he’d left Jessica to the authorities and fate and hurried over the Cascades and into an unknown future. His parents had suggested he take his private jet, but Cole wasn’t sure where he wanted to land, and he longed for the anonymity of a road trip. He craved the time afforded by all of the empty miles just east of the Rockies. Even though the fire-engine-red vehicle drew attention wherever he went, there weren’t that many folks to stare at it once he hit the plains.

  At some point he turned south, driving toward the Ozarks of Arkansas, where nobody cared about the coastal happenings of Washington State. In his escape from the Pacific Northwest, he’d stumbled into an exclusive development by none other than Adam Moreau. Mountain Cove was the perfect hideaway with round-the-clock security, entrance gates, caretakers, and vacation homes for billionaires. There were eccentric touches throughout the development, including the four-story castle home and the Sweetheart Tree that grew in the middle of the road. His home, called Sparrow’s Hollow, was less grand than many of the others. Still, the impeccable small, three-bedroom cottage fit Cole perfectly where it sat tucked on a bluff, surrounded by trees with a view of Beaver Lake and the sunset as night settled over the water and woods.

  Every evening, regardless of the season, he’d settle onto the deck for a few minutes and listen to the night close in as the sky turned to fire before settling into twilight, the muted shades of purple and navy mirrored in the brilliant water below. During the cooler months, Trey, his gardener, would lay a flame in the big limestone fireplace on the deck, making it easy for Cole to relax. Even in the winter, the woods around his home weren’t exactly quiet. Throughout the oak, sycamore, hickory, maple, and other trees, squirrels chased and danced amid last autumn’s leaves, and the occasional mockingbird song would filter through bare branches. In the summer, crickets and cicadas added their chorus to a growing choir of birdsong.

  He loved this place of human solitude after everything he’d been through in the last year and the crowded press of Washington. Here, in Arkansas, the disaster of Jessica and the scandal and shame that accompanied its every inch dimmed a little, like noise that couldn’t help but be filtered through the trees.

  Pulling the car into the garage, Cole turned off the engine and stepped out of the vehicle to find Trey standing in the impeccable cobblestone drive. The man was as wrinkled and brown as a walnut shell from hours in the hot summer Arkansas sun. His gift to coax life into the gardens of Sparrow’s Hollow was legendary. Within a couple of months of Trey’s consistent care, the grounds looked like the Garden of Eden. Oak, redbud, and magnolia trees, along with eastern red cedar, birch, and pine, were scattered throughout the lawn that gently sloped to the water’s edge. Cole loved every leaf and blade of grass.

  He studied Trey. The man was dressed in worn jeans and a gray plaid flannel shirt over a white tee. He was holding a rake. “Afternoon, Trey.”

  “Afternoon, sir,” Trey responded.

  Cole laughed. “It’s been over a year now, Trey. When are you going to start calling me Cole?”

  “Probably never.” Trey chuckled as he moved off before turning around. “Oh, sir, Mrs. Malcomb wanted me to let you know that dinner’s in the fridge. She had to leave early. She and Alyssa have a bunch of wedding preparations to take care of. She’ll be back in the morning.”

  Wedding plans. Cole squinted in the late afternoon sun that filtered through the clouds. His mind pinged to Jessica as if it received a text. He had considered marrying her. Although he hadn’t proposed, he had gone ring shopping. The vivid memory made him wince. He turned his attention back to Trey. “I bet Mrs. Malcomb wouldn’t mind a bit if you called her Suzette.”

  Trey shook his head. “Nah. No need. She’s Mrs. Malcomb. I’ll be going now, sir. I laid a fire on the deck and in the living room.”

  “Thank you, Trey.” Cole made his way into the house, with thoughts of Jessica following him like smoke from an old fire. After their breakup, Cole h
ad informed his family that he wanted to continue to work with the family restaurant business, but he wanted to do so remotely. His family lived primarily in California, but with the ease of travel between major cities along the coast, he saw them often, and they worked together constantly. He missed them but relished the isolation in the Mountain Cove of Arkansas. This place was worlds away from Jessica’s trial for the five hundred thousand dollars she stole, along with his trust and self-confidence that she still held hostage.

  Cole was restaurant royalty. His family owned one of the most popular upscale chains in America, serving Greek cuisine to the masses. He was close to his parents and brother, Landon, and they were deeply connected to their Greek-American roots. He understood the story of sacrifice and hard work that had started with his great-great-grandfather, who’d begun the business with a gyro stand on a street corner in LA. Five generations later, the Demetriuses were a world-class restaurateur family. Yet, in one breath of a betrayal, all of it scattered like dry leaves on the wind. Assurances Cole had accepted as part of his life were suddenly vulnerable and exposed by Jessica’s act, and he realized the fragility of his family’s hard work and his own heart.

  His family and the business had survived the scandal, but Cole’s personal life wasn’t so lucky. As the accountant for Café Oceanus, he was responsible for the finances. To be robbed by someone he trusted and loved made him doubt everything he believed about himself and the world.

  Cole blinked back that trail of thinking. Not all of his experiences with Jessica’s trial were detrimental. Her court dates and sentencing made him see the despondency of others who lived under the cloak of poverty. Along with his move to Eureka Springs came the desire to lift those who might not have the necessary advantages to make their talents come to light.

  Tourism kept the small town’s storefronts bustling, but the industry didn’t create great wages, and he wanted to offer the children who lived in the area more options. He chose the arts for their ability to help young minds tap into their better selves.

  For now, his focus was on Cara and Phillip’s dance studio, but he hoped to create a trust fund that would offer more than dance.

  In meeting with Cara and Phillip, it wasn’t long before the three of them became friends. In working with them, his own interest in dance was piqued, and he took up their offer to teach him to waltz.

  He smiled at the memory of his first lesson. His efforts were clumsy and awkward, but now, eight months later, he was beginning to feel a change in both his body and his soul. Dance provided more than just movement. It deepened connection. He observed the transformation in the kids he sponsored, but he didn’t dare to have much hope for himself, although he ached for that deeper sense of union every time he witnessed it in the studio.

  After what happened with Jessica, he would never trust another woman again, and he preferred that to the idea of risking his family or such tender feelings.

  He cleared his throat as if to chase away his thoughts. If he wasn’t careful, the dark corridor of his mind could send him into an abysmal despondency, and he refused to give into that. Instead, he looked up at the sky. A slight breeze, as delicate as a petal, moved across his skin. It was late February, and the evenings were softening around the edges. Spring would come early this year. At least that was what Trey reported.

  Cole moved from the yard and made his way into the house through the garage. Suzette had left the lights on for him and a note on the counter about dinner. He pulled the plate out of the fridge and stuck it on the carousel of the microwave for the exact amount of time she’d suggested. Once his meal was warm, he poured himself a glass of sweet tea and settled on the deck by the fire, looking out over the bluff and the lake. His small yacht—the Lake Mermaid, a 60 Cantius—remained still in the water under its covered boat dock, the wavelets gently caressing the boat’s hull. Soon he’d be spending his summer nights on board with nothing but the water and a blanket of gem-like stars for company. A rush of relief moved through him like the earlier breeze. A night with the stars was exactly what he needed.

  As the sun closed out the day, a pair of cardinals perched on one of the feeders he kept on the deck, heralding the promise of the early spring. The birds were unafraid as they gorged themselves on black oil sunflower seeds. Cole kept still, marveling at their bright red-and buff-colored feathers and eager attention on their meal.

  The heavy scented tang of decaying leaves and water reached him from the lake. It mingled with the sharp but dying cold of winter and the hint of promise for the coming delicate spring. In the distance, the trill of a red-winged blackbird echoed through the darkening forest, drawing his gaze to the lake. The bird was nowhere to be found. Instead, he fixed his attention on the water and its reflected colors of the sky, the last of the sapphire-and-violet twilight. His mind wandered back to the interview with the young seamstress, Mrs. Indigo Williams. The color of water and sky.

  Did she know the name Indigo had Greek origins? It certainly fit her, or the little Cole knew of her. Indigo was a blue to purple dye, and something about this young woman seemed to speak of the rich hues. It also matched the color of her eyes, which reminded him of frosted blueberries. Her hair was shiny black, sleek and soft. She had a habit of tucking it behind her ears where it flipped forward at the ends, grazing her chin. Her feathered bangs rested on her forehead.

  He smiled at the memory of the rise in temper he’d felt coming from her when he’d begun outlining his policies. He liked that. She wasn’t like the hundreds of women he’d dated before Jessica, simpering and smiling while saying yes to his every request and agreeing to his opinions in order to please him. Indigo—Mrs. Williams—didn’t seem to be that kind of girl.

  The ring she played with gave the impression she was married, although there seemed to be some confusion about all of that. Why was she living with a roommate if she was a missus? Divorce, maybe? When he’d called her by her married name, she’d looked as if she’d seen a ghost, but the wedding ring was obviously a big part of her life. She clung to it with a certain fierceness.

  Cole shrugged as he pushed his fork into his food. The savory aroma of Suzette’s lobster mac and cheese floated around him as the flavor of the creamy dish exploded in his mouth, creating distance between him and his earlier thoughts of Indigo. That was for the best. His only interest was in financially aiding Phillip and Cara to help the kids put on the best ballroom dance program possible, so everyone, especially the kids, could be proud. Mrs. Williams’s role in all of that was relegated to costumes, and that was where she would stay.

  Chapter Four

  Indigo picked pins from the cushion on her wrist while Alyssa Malcomb stood on a pedestal, the wedding dress fluttering around her ankles like butterflies in flight. The steady stream of chatter coming from the girl was common for a bride who wanted her day to be perfect.

  Indigo had learned a while ago that a seamstress could also be a sounding board for other wedding ideas, and sometimes a therapist. If the engaged couple were experiencing any sort of drama or trouble, she offered an attentive ear and no advice.

  After listening to a bride for about twenty minutes, Indigo would predict if the union would last. It was one of the reasons she’d been so confident in her relationship with Sam. Everything about him and how they were together indicated that their marriage had a great chance of succeeding. However, there was nothing in their shared vows that told her that a cancer diagnosis was woven into the fabric of their marriage, along with the black threads of debt.

  Indigo shook the memory away, focusing on Alyssa’s chatter while pinning the bottom of the skirt. As long as the girl held still and stood straight, there wouldn’t be any problems.

  “And I’d love to have a long train,” Alyssa continued.

  Indigo pushed the pins into the wrist cushion. “You don’t really need a train. This dress suits you perfectly.”

  “You think so?” Alyssa looked down at Indigo with hope.

  “Yes, I d
o. Now, stand straight so we can get this even.”

  “Oh, right.” Alyssa straightened up. “What would you think of a scalloped edge along the bottom?” she asked. “Maybe we could sew pearl beads into the hem. Wouldn’t that be pretty?”

  Indigo placed a pin in the fabric. “It would be lovely, and we can certainly do that. But it would take an extra week at least, and there’d be an added cost.”

  Alyssa smiled enthusiastically. “Oh, that’s not a problem. We can—” She stopped and blinked. “Well, maybe not.”

  Indigo straightened, looking up at Alyssa, her curiosity piqued.

  Alyssa gave a slight shake of her head. “My mom works for this guy from Washington State. He’s a gazillionaire. He pays really well, and since Mom went to work for him, we’ve had more money than ever before, so we’d gotten used to having a few extras. But my dad is out of work now, so it’s been my mom that’s keeping the family fed. I’m the first girl to get married, so my folks want to give me everything, but it’s been a little tight with six kids. Good thing most of the wedding is paid off.”

  Indigo tried to focus on all of what Alyssa was saying, but her heart ticked up a beat at the mention of her beloved Pacific Northwest. She furrowed her brow and focused on Alyssa. Whoever this man was, it didn’t matter where he was from. Indigo wasn’t going home anytime soon, so there wasn’t much point in talking about Oregon.

  She narrowed her attention to the hem and Alyssa’s chatter. Indigo heard all kinds of stories about weddings. Most brides wanted everything to be perfect for their one big day. “Don’t worry, Alyssa. Your dress is gorgeous. When I’m finished with it, it’ll fit like a dream, and no one will even notice you don’t have a train or a scalloped hem. Besides, the veil is beautiful, and it trails down your back. I doubt you’ll think about a train or a scalloped hem during the wedding or afterwards.”