The Dangerous Billionaire

by Jackie Ashenden

  Van shot her a narrow look. “Only dealing with the potential hostile takeover of a national oil company, nothing major.”

  She blinked at that. “What? What hostile takeover?”

  “Too complicated to explain right now. We have to get you to safety first.”

  “We?”

  “Wolf and Lucas.”

  The cold thread became an icy current. Okay, it had to be really serious if he was involving the other two.

  There were more questions she wanted to ask, but she remained silent, letting Van concentrate as he eventually pulled off the avenue and onto another side street crowded with traffic.

  Five minutes later, Van drew the car up to a space by the curb and turned off the engine. Chloe glanced out the window, trying to see why they were here, only spotting the dirty windowpanes of an old-fashioned bar.

  “Stay in the car,” he said, pushing open his door.

  Oh hell no, he wasn’t leaving her alone, not after that.

  Chloe reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait. I’m coming with you.”

  He turned sharply, his eyes glittering. “You’re fucking staying in the car and that’s final. I can’t risk you being spotted again.”

  Beneath her fingers, she could feel the muscles of his biceps go tense and hard, but she didn’t let go. She wasn’t going to be left behind like an afterthought, not again. And most especially not if it was her the three men would be discussing.

  “No.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “This is my damn life, and if you’re making decisions about it, I’m sure as hell not staying in the car.”

  He stared at her, his gaze cold and green. She met it stubbornly, refusing to be treated like a little kid, like the youngest who wasn’t ever consulted when decisions were made. The one who was always left behind and often left out.

  She was an adult now and she was going to be part of this whether he liked it or not.

  Something in Van’s expression changed, the hard green light in his eyes fading, getting warmer, more golden. And she was suddenly acutely conscious of his heat seeping through his suit jacket and into her fingertips where they rested on his arm.

  Her mouth dried, tension gathering between them, thick and hot. The same tension she’d felt in the gym the day before.

  “Let go, Chloe,” he said very quietly, very distinctly, his voice full of gravel.

  But she didn’t want to let go. She wanted to keep her hand right there, grip him tighter, test all that rock-hard muscle for herself. See what would happen if she disobeyed him …

  Let go of him, you stupid idiot.

  Right. Yes. This was insane. What the hell did she think she was doing?

  Chloe jerked her hand from his arm and looked away, her heartbeat thundering in her eyes, her cheeks hot.

  Van said nothing. After a moment he turned, reaching over into the back seat where he’d stashed that black bag of his. There came the sound of rummaging and then something was dumped into her lap. Swallowing, she looked down.

  It was a plain, dark blue hoodie.

  “Put it on,” he instructed. “Then pull the hood up. That should keep your face hidden at least.”

  Beneath the desperate beat of her heart, she felt the tight, cold thread inside her loosen, admitting a trickle of warmth. A warmth that had nothing to do with sexual tension and everything to do with being understood.

  Uncomfortable with the feeling and not wanting to examine it too closely, Chloe discarded her ratty leather jacket and pulled on the hoodie. It was massive, totally swamping her, and it smelled of him. She found herself wanting to pull it around her and bury her face in it like a kid with her favorite blanket.

  You’re a lost cause. You know that, right?

  Okay, admitting he was hot and that she liked the way he smelled didn’t make her a “lost cause,” Anyway, it wasn’t as if she was going to do something about it, even if she thought he might be into it. He was her foster brother, and even if she’d never thought of him in brotherly terms, that relationship would always be there.

  Van gave her a critical look then reached out and tugged the hood forward so it shaded her face. “That’ll do. Come on then.”

  They both got out of the car and she waited on the sidewalk while he locked it. Then she followed as he headed straight for the old-fashioned bar she’d noticed when they’d pulled up.

  There was a sign outside that read Leo’s Alehouse, and as she stepped through the doorway after Van, the sound of a lot of male voices all shouting at each other and the scent of beer, sweat, and old cigarette smoke rolled over her.

  The place was packed with men, most of whom were in uniform. She didn’t recognize the uniforms, but she thought the guys with the white hats on were probably Navy. There were a handful of women here and there, some in uniform, but it mostly seemed to be guys.

  She and Van were stared at as they entered, most of the looks directed at Van, more than a few sneers happening as the guys staring took in his suit. Van seemed oblivious to the glances he was drawing as he strode toward the back of the bar, but Chloe found herself annoyed by them. She didn’t know what that was about since clearly Van didn’t give a shit whether people sneered at him or not, but it irritated her. Didn’t they know who he was? He could probably take them all out by himself—with one hand tied behind his back.

  She glared at a group of sailors openly smirking, and then glowered at another group who looked like army dudes. Not that they took any notice of her, but still. She didn’t like it.

  Eventually Van stopped by a table where a couple of familiar guys were sitting, and abruptly she forgot about the smirks. One of the men stood, his size, short black Mohawk, and different-colored eyes unmistakable. “Chloe?” Wolf’s rough, gritty voice was full of surprise. “Is that you?”

  Okay, so they didn’t know she was here. Why hadn’t Van told them?

  She shot Van a look, but the expression on his face was the same: hard and unreadable as granite.

  “Hey Wolf,” she said when it became obvious Van wasn’t going to speak, coming around the table to Wolf and impulsively giving him a warm hug. “Yeah, it’s me. I know, it’s been a long time.”

  “Yeah, fuck, it really has.” Wolf stepped back, looking her up and down. “You’re bigger than you used to be.”

  Despite herself, she could feel her cheeks heat. “Well, I was only thirteen when you left, so I would hope so.”

  Wolf’s grin softened. “Not by much, though. You’re still little.”

  Chloe blushed harder, which was annoying. She’d always had a soft spot for Wolf, since he was the closest to her in age and she could remember running around after him, pestering him to play with her when she’d been about four or five. He would give in on occasion, but as they’d grown older, he’d become less and less interested in his much younger foster sister and more in what his older foster brothers were doing.

  “Hi Chloe.” Lucas’s deep, cool voice hadn’t changed and neither had the sharp edge in his silver-blue eyes. He stood up and gave her a nod, but he wasn’t a man who encouraged physical affection so she didn’t bother offering a hug, settling for a smile instead.

  “Hey Lucas,” she said, trying not to feel awkward. “Nice to see you too.”

  It was always this way with her foster brothers. Sometimes they seemed less like the boys she’d grown up with and more like the older cousins she barely knew.

  You know Van though.

  She couldn’t help shooting Van another glance from within her hoodie. He was standing next to her, tall and broad and intimidating even in his suit. He radiated menace, as if he was daring the entire population of the bar to take him on, including his two brothers.

  It shouldn’t have made a kind of dry-mouthed excitement turn over inside her, but it did. As if she really liked the idea of him being mean and dangerous as hell.

  You like the idea of him protecting you as well.

  Chloe felt herself start to scowl again, because where the h
ell had that idea come from? She’d never been a damsel in distress, didn’t think of herself as one, and she didn’t like being told what to do, so why the hell would she like the idea of Van protecting her?

  Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him going over the side of the building the moment he thought someone had been watching her. He’d moved without hesitation, reaching for his gun, her safety the most important thing to him in that moment.

  Come on, you can’t say you don’t like that.

  Something shifted inside her, the cold thread loosening just a little bit more, and she had the strangest impulse to go stand closer to him. Which was ridiculous, naturally.

  “So?” Wolf, who was also in a suit, pulled irritably at the plain black tie around his neck and ripped open a couple of buttons on his business shirt as he sat back down again. “What the fuck is this about, Van? Didn’t we sort out all the company bullshit today already? And what’s with Chloe? What’s she doing here?”

  Van pulled out a chair and gestured for Chloe to sit, before taking the seat beside her.

  Lucas sat down as well, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded. He too was in a suit, the silver blue tie echoing the color of his eyes. Chloe found herself staring at him, because he was almost ridiculously handsome. Yet there was something cold about him, something intensely reserved that kept him from being totally hot.

  He wasn’t like Van, that was for sure. He didn’t have Van’s rough warmth or that golden gleam in his eye, the hint of something wilder just beneath the surface.

  Why the hell are you comparing your foster brothers with each other?

  Damn. Good point. Why was she? She didn’t feel drawn to either Lucas or Wolf in the same way as …

  What? As you’re drawn to Van?

  Okay, sure, she had been. When she’d been a little girl and he’d reached down to put her up on that pony. When he’d let her take his hand every time he came home on leave and followed her when she’d dragged him down to the stables. When he’d smile at her the way no one else ever seemed to.

  But she wasn’t little now.

  You’re still drawn to him, don’t deny it.

  “This isn’t about the company,” Van was saying, his voice washing over her and making it very difficult for her to ignore the thought the way she should be doing. “You want to know why Chloe is here? Well, guess what was in my fucking letter?”

  All three brothers went suddenly very still, a silence falling.

  “Chloe’s in danger,” Van went on, when no one said anything. “The old man wanted me to protect her.”

  * * *

  Lucas’s expression didn’t change, though the look in his eyes sharpened. Wolf, on the other hand, scowled ferociously.

  “What the fuck?” he demanded. “What do you mean ‘in danger’?”

  Van was very conscious of Chloe sitting beside him, wrapped up in his blue hoodie, her dark eyes gleaming in the shadow of the hood.

  He shouldn’t have brought her into the goddamn bar. It wasn’t likely that de Santis had anyone in here who’d spot her, but he hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Until she’d gripped tight to his arm, told him that this was about her life and that she wanted to be in on the discussion. She’d looked so fierce right then, reminding him of that day on the mountain when he’d raced her back to the stables, how she’d burned with challenge. How alive she’d been, how free. How wild. And how much that had appealed to something dark and uncontrolled in him. A potent combination. A fucking lethal one.

  He’d become intensely conscious of her hand on his arm, the warmth of her touch, the pressure of her fingers. Of how close she was sitting to him. Maybe it had been the remains of the adrenaline pumping through him, or maybe it was her, but all he’d been able to think about was that if he leaned forward just a little bit, he could take that smart mouth of hers, taste that wildness for himself.

  Luckily he had self-control down to a fine art and he’d been able to hold himself back. He still didn’t think bringing her into the bar was a good idea, but he hadn’t been able to deny the fact that she was right—when they were discussing her, she needed to be here. Besides, it seemed very obvious that remaining in the car and arguing with her was a recipe for disaster.

  “De Santis,” Van said curtly, getting straight to the point. “He’s targeting her.”

  “Holy shit,” Wolf murmured.

  “How do you know?” Lucas’s tone was sharp.

  “Like I said”—Van met his gaze—“it was in my letter. Dad said that in the event of his death, de Santis would make a move on Chloe.”

  “Why?” Lucas shot back, his gaze never moving from Van’s.

  What the fuck was up with his middle brother? Because something was, that’s for sure. Van still remembered Lucas’s response to his own letter, ripping it up into tiny precise pieces, the look on his face hard, set.

  Then again, now wasn’t the time for that, not when the situation with Chloe had to be dealt with and fast.

  “‘Why’ isn’t up for discussion,” Van said, closing down that little topic since he wasn’t having that conversation just yet. He was going to have to tell his brothers at some point, but that point wasn’t now. “All that matters is that he’s targeting her and that he knows she’s here in New York and has been staying at Dad’s mansion.”

  “What?” Wolf leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “How did he figure that one out? If you knew she was in danger, wouldn’t you have taken better care—”

  “It was my fault,” Chloe interrupted unexpectedly, her quiet voice cutting over Wolf’s rough one. “Van told me not to go outside, but I don’t like being inside much. And there was a rooftop garden and—”

  “Someone saw you,” Lucas finished for her, his icy gaze switching from Van to her. “Smart move.”

  There was a sarcastic note in his brother’s voice that made a surge of unexpected protectiveness go through Van like a tidal wave, and he found himself wanting to put his fist straight in Lucas’s pretty face. Christ, where did the prick get off speaking to Chloe like that? Yes, she’d put herself at risk, but she hadn’t known someone would be watching her. That he himself had been pissed with her about it made not the slightest bit of difference. It was one thing for him to be angry with her, quite another for someone else, even his own brother.

  Chloe opened her mouth to no doubt tell Lucas exactly what she thought of that particular statement, but since that would probably lead to a full-blown argument, Van decided to nip it in the bud.

  “Leave her alone,” he ordered before Chloe could speak, meeting Lucas’s icy stare with his own. “She didn’t know the house was going to be watched and I should have been clearer with her about the threat she was under.”

  Lucas’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by the aggressiveness in Van’s tone. But that was too bad, because Van wasn’t taking it back. Chloe’s safety was imperative and arguing about who was at fault wasn’t going to help anyone.

  “What Chloe should or shouldn’t have done is beside the point anyway,” he went on curtly. “What matters is that de Santis knows she’s here and I’m pretty sure now that he does, he’s going to make a move. Which means I need to get her somewhere safe, where he can’t find her.”

  And that was the problem; he didn’t have anywhere, not in New York. His father had offered to get him a place of his own in the city “for investment purposes” but Van hadn’t been interested. He’d always thought that when he retired from the Navy, he’d head back west to Wyoming to the ranch since he wasn’t a city boy at heart. Unfortunately that left him with nowhere to take Chloe. On the drive to Leo’s he’d gone through several scenarios in his head, such as taking her out of the city, but he needed to be here to deal with the threatened takeover of Tate Oil, not to mention appointing a new CEO to run the company while he was on active duty. He couldn’t simply leave, and certainly not if he wanted to find a way to neutralize the threat to Chloe. All of which meant that he had to fin
d somewhere in Manhattan to keep her safe and out of the way of de Santis while he tied up all his numerous loose ends.

  Wolf muttered something under his breath then said, louder, “I’d love to help you, bro, but I’m heading back to base tomorrow.”

  A ripple of shock echoed through Van, though he couldn’t have said why. Wolf had always intended to go back as soon as the legal details to do with the company had been sorted out. Whatever had been in his letter, it obviously hadn’t been enough to keep him in New York. Wolf had stuck around and attended the board of directors meeting the way Van had ordered, and now there was nothing to hold him here.

  Maybe you’re jealous. You wouldn’t mind heading back to base too.

  Shit, of course he wanted to do that too. But he wasn’t going to and wouldn’t, not until he’d appointed a new CEO and dealt with the threat de Santis posed both to the company and to Chloe.

  “Fine,” he snapped. “You’ve done your duty. Head on back if that’s what you need to do. But my mission here isn’t done and I’m not leaving until it is.”

  There was a silence at that.

  Wolf shifted in his chair, scrubbing a hand through his Mohawk and looking uncomfortable. “Shit, man. If I had a place or something—”

  “I’ve got somewhere you can take her,” Lucas interrupted coolly.

  Van went still, but it was Chloe who managed to get a word in first, her voice sharp. “Where?”

  Lucas glanced at her. “A penthouse in SoHo. I bought it a couple of years back when I was on leave. The building looks like it’s being renovated, but it’s not. I just keep it like that so people think no one lives there.” His hard mouth curved in an imperceptible smile. “I’m not a fan of unexpected visitors.”

  She leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on the table. “What about you?”

  Lucas’s icy gaze flickered. “I’m staying elsewhere for a while. Here.” He pulled something out of his pocket, slapping it down in front of Van. “Take it.”