Pawn of the Billionaire

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by Frasier, Kristin




  Pawn of the Billionaire

  Kristin Frasier

  Abigail Moore

  Contents

  Copyright

  Preface

  1. James

  2. Toni

  3. James

  4. Toni

  5. Toni

  6. Edward

  7. James

  8. Toni

  9. James

  10. James

  11. James

  12. Toni

  13. James

  14. James

  15. Toni

  16. James

  17. Toni

  18. James

  19. Toni

  20. James

  21. Toni

  22. Toni

  23. James

  24. Toni

  25. James

  Also by Kristin Frasier

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Kristin Frasier and Abigail Moore

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

  Cover by Satyr Designs

  Edited by Heatwave Services

  v 1.1

  Preface

  The Honourable James Sandiford wants nothing to do with his heritage. He's forged his own path as CEO of a Software Giant of his own making. But when duty calls, he's forced to find a wife for his older brother, the Viscount Pineham.

  Toni Chapman has a lot of rough. She works a drudge job to pay the bills, and studies hard in what little spare time she can cobble together. She's got work to do, and she doesn't have time to play games.

  Toni ticks most of the right boxes for James, and he decides to shape her into his brother's future bride. There is a diamond under her unpolished exterior, and it will take all his skill and patience to coax it free. The only problem is that, as they draw closer together, it becomes clear that Toni is too good for James' brother.

  Toni is The One. And James cannot let her go. Not now he's found her.

  Reader Note: This is a full stand-alone novel with no cliffhangers and an HEA. It's also kindle-meltingly steamy, so whatever you do, don't read it in public!

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  James

  I stared out at the gathering dusk. It wasn’t that late, but I was tired. I leaned back into the comfortable chair. It was the one chair in the place that didn’t look as if it fitted, didn’t match. It was too large, too dark, the leather ancient and polished through countless years of use. I didn’t know who had made it, he must’ve been dead a century or more, but I thanked him silently every time I threw myself into that chair.

  It was a long time since I’d had to spend whole days crouching in front of a computer screen, but today had been difficult, a lot of problems and a team that seemed to be unable all of a sudden to make decisions. I’d have to do something about that. But tonight, I’d stay home. Tonight, I’d lounge in this chair. It seemed to have been designed just for me, easing out the kinks in my neck and shoulders and revitalizing me within moments. I’d never part with it.

  David quietly put the tumbler of whiskey down on the table beside me, made sure it was within reach, and waited deferentially until I nodded at him to go. He’d been my butler for nearly five years now. I grinned to myself. I’d taken him from my father, just like I had the chair. Father had grumbled, but David had wanted to travel, and this way he stayed in the family. Eventually he’d go back to the Sandiford Estate. His family had served mine for generations.

  Lawrence was sitting quietly at the desk in the corner of the library. My personal secretary knew how to blend into the background. I couldn’t imagine life without him. I looked over at him.

  “I don’t know what I’ve got on tonight, Lawrence, but cancel whatever it might be. I’m going to stay in. Tell the kitchen I just want a light dinner, please, and then you’ll be able to go home.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I didn’t know where he lived. I suspected he didn’t actually have a place outside his apartment here. But that was okay. He was always here when I needed him.

  The phone rang at that point, and I scowled. I didn’t want to be disturbed. Lawrence answered as he always did. I raised an eyebrow as his voice became even more deferential — if that was possible.

  “Good evening, Lord Sandiford.” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded wearily. Better to talk to my father now than have him ring me later on. I glanced at the clock. It was really early for him to be ringing me.

  “Of course, Lord Sandiford, Mr. James will take your call now.” And he moved over, handed me the handset, and put a notepad and my fountain pen on the table beside my whiskey.

  “Good evening, Father. How are you?” I could sense the grumbling discontent before he spoke, so I wasn’t surprised when he launched into a tirade.

  “James, my boy. You must dread my calls. I always seem to want money these days.”

  “Well, that’s true. But if you didn’t, I’d never hear from you.” I joked, trying to raise his spirits. Lately my father had seemed rather depressed, and I wondered what the difficulty was. Still, I could solve the money problems without hesitation, and no doubt I would have to throw money at the other problem too. That problem being my brother.

  I crossed my legs, letting my left one swing idly as I listened.

  “Look, James. The South Wing roof that you agreed should be replaced. Well, the Listed Buildings people have been over the place with the contractors. They think it’s time the whole roof was replaced, or the timbers won’t be preserved correctly.” His sigh was audibly frustrated. “It’s just one problem after another. Now they’ve brought me an estimate of three million.”

  I sucked my breath in at that. Even me. That was one hell of a lot of money just for a roof. All right, I could pay it no problems, but I still wondered if we were being taken for a ride here.

  “That’s a bloody lot of money, Father.” I chewed my lip. “They’re going to have to come up with a very detailed proposal for that lot.”

  “I know.” Father was obviously frustrated. “But the Council chap was insistent that I’d have to get the work done.” He was silent for a minute. I knew what was coming next.

  “Or they’ll put a compulsory purchase order on it. You know.”

  I smiled. “Father, don’t worry about that. They absolutely don’t want to take it over. It’ll cost them a fortune. Anyway, I can pay. You tell them to ring me here tomorrow.” I stood up, beginning to pace around the room.

  “They must come up with a full set of proposals, including crediting the cost of any salvage like lead and the peg tiles.” I thought for a moment. “Tell them I’m financing it and they must send me all their documentation directly. I’ll have a team go over it here. I bet if they think I’ll bring a US team over, the quotation will come down a lot.” I had a brainwave. “And I’ll ring the Masons. They’ve had a lot of roofing work done recently. I can find out what it cost them. But, of course lead is expensive and so are handmade tiles now.”

  “I suppose you’re right my boy.” Father sounded tired. “But you shouldn’t have to be dealing with it. You’re the younger son, after all. Edward should be taking the responsibility. He’s the heir, he’s going to inherit the Estate.” I could
hear that he was pacing around, too.

  I could picture him in his library. The dark, book-lined walls, the faded carpets, the old leather chairs. The large windows looking out over the gardens of his Hampshire home. His breathing rasped in my ear. I wondered how his health was. Perhaps I should fly over to England and see him more often.

  “I tell you, your brother’s getting into all sorts of trouble. He’ll meet a bad end, I shouldn’t wonder.” His sigh reached me across the line. “I wish you were the eldest son. I’ve wished that for a long time.”

  I laughed. “Please don’t put that on me, Father. I tell you, I really don’t want to inherit. I’ve made my life the way I like it. Why would I want to be the Earl?” I glanced out of the window, seeing Lawrence reflected. Still at his desk, he would be waiting to see if anything transpired of this conversation that I’d need him to do.

  “So, what is Edward getting up to now?”

  “I don’t know.” Father grumbled. “He was gone for nearly a week this time. Came back stoned out of his mind. One of these days he’s going to get arrested for something we won’t be able to keep quiet. Or worse.” He sounded sadder than ever.

  “I’m just glad your mother didn’t live to see it. It would have broken her heart.”

  I was silent. My mother was just a memory to me now, I’d been so young when she died. But I remembered how beautiful she was, her stately, elegant figure and the way she ruled the Estate with an iron grip. No one got away with anything when she was alive, not even my father. I smiled.

  “Maybe Edward would have been different if she’d lived. It was hard losing her when we were so young.”

  Father laughed. I was glad to hear it.

  “Yes, maybe you’re right. She certainly kept me in hand, didn’t she?”

  I grinned at the phone. “You’re right. Even I could see that. And I was only ten.”

  His chuckle was tinged with sad memories. “But I loved her so much. I didn’t think I would, you know. My own mother found her for me. She knew just what I needed. I certainly wanted to choose my own wife, but it just wasn’t done. But it all worked out so well.” He stopped.

  “I tell you what, my boy, why don’t you find a suitable girl for Edward? One who can keep him in line, make him turn over a new leaf. And someone who could run the Estate as well. Your mother was so good at that.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Father, life’s different now. And anyway, why on Earth would any girl want that job? Just look at Edward.”

  “Oh, go on. He’s Viscount Pineham. He’s going to be the Earl when I’m gone, inherit the Estate. I’m sure he’d be all right once he’d been taken in hand. Any girl would want that job.”

  “That’s what you think. The only sort of girl who’d want that would be completely unsuitable.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure you could find someone with some good breeding in the background, train them up.” My father’s voice was pleading now. “I think it’ll be a really good idea.”

  “Well.” I thought. “It’s not going to be easy. I mean, finding her. Once I’ve found her, I just have to find a good finishing school. I suppose they’re still around. Switzerland, they all were, weren’t they?”

  “Oh, yes.” Father sounded enthusiastic. “Your mother went to one. She said it was very freeing for most of them. I suppose they’d been very much under their family’s control until then.”

  “I bet.” I tried to picture my mother as an eighteen year old, but failed dismally.

  “All right, Father. I’ll commission a genealogy firm to do the research and see if we can come up with anyone who’d fit the bill and might be persuadable.” I flung myself back in my chair. “And don’t forget, get the contractors to contact me with their quotes for the roof.”

  When I hung up, I turned and looked at Lawrence. He was utterly professional and discreet, but I could see that even he was trying not to smile.

  I grinned. “What have we let ourselves in for?”

  He relaxed and let his smile show. “An interesting diversion for you, sir.” He came towards my chair with his notebook. “There are several genealogy firms in the UK who would be able to find someone for you. I think they’ll be better placed to at least begin the research. I suppose they’ll want to start with the female lines several generations back, and see where they lead.”

  He’d obviously started online while I was still having the conversation with my father.

  “Yes. Good idea. I wonder if …” I frowned. “Maybe ask them to start with titles that have gone extinct. If there’s no one holding the title now, the girl may be more inclined to think she’s as much right as anyone to get one, even if it’s not the same as she might have inherited if girls counted then.”

  “Yes, sir.” Lawrence glanced at the clock. “It’s still very early in London. Your father must have been worried to have been up at this time.” He moved back to his desk. “Anyway, I’ll contact them first thing in the morning. Would you want me to research finishing schools then too?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Thanks, Lawrence. You get off now. I’ll go down for dinner in a moment.”

  Toni

  I screwed my hair back into an untidy bun and made a face at myself in the small mirror that was just too low to see my face in unless I stooped. God! I hated my life at the moment. Long hours, crap job, too tired in the evenings to study my way out and onto better things.

  But I had to keep this job, keep this roof over my head, and my bills paid. It was lucky that I only lived a few minutes walk from the diner. Most rooms this close to the hospital were too expensive, but nurses wouldn’t stand for crap places like this. I looked around with disgust at where I had to live. It was hard to keep it clean, all the surfaces were so grimy from years of neglect. And there was no storage for my belongings, even though I didn’t have much.

  I gritted my jaw. I would get out of this somehow. I really would. I’d got a great idea. I just had to make it work. I shrugged my shoulders into my coat and held it tightly around myself as I strode along the sidewalk, head down against the usual rain. Even when it wasn’t raining here in San Francisco, it was so humid, I usually wished it was raining.

  Turning into the diner, I was hit by the warmth from the kitchen and the stale, greasy smell from the back storage area. I didn’t have long before some of the families would be in for breakfast. They had such bad luck with their sick kids, and most of them had little money left for their own food. The hospital cafeteria cost too much, so they’d come in here. Some of them came back month after month, a long downward spiral of losing hope. Then they’d stop coming, and I’d know that they’d lost their child. I shivered as I hung my coat up. It was depressing. I had to stop getting too involved in people’s lives.

  I swung through to the kitchen. “Morning, Pete.” The junior chef’s life was probably worse than mine, and I tried to keep his spirits up and the atmosphere sweet.

  He glanced up. “Hello, Toni. Nearly ready.” He was so nice. A bacon sandwich each morning meant I didn’t have to have breakfast before I came to work.

  “Thanks, hun. I’ll make some tea.” I shoved the teapot under the urn and grabbed a couple of teabags. It was relaxed here until about nine when Marco the owner would show up.

  I went back out to the front. Checking that all the chairs were set straight and the night girl had wiped the tables down properly, I wondered if that chap in the suit from yesterday would be back.

  He’d been so out of place, sitting silently. Typing on a laptop, for God’s sake! In here. He stuck out while he sat watching, drinking three mugs of coffee. He’d given me the shivers, though. I’d felt he was watching me, and I couldn’t think why.

  I’d even asked Marco if it was him, arranging to check up on me, and he’d growled at me.

  “I can watch you for myself, girl. You’re all right here, even if you do talk too much to the customers. At least it means they keep loyal.”

  I’d had to accept that as a back-handed
compliment, and I’d shrugged off thoughts of the odd guy, and carried on with my day.

  I went to the back and took a bite from my sandwich before pouring out the tea. I took Pete his mug while he was busy topping up the oil in the fryer. Then I heard the main door swing open.

  “Here we go.” I stopped for another bite, and swallowed it quickly before going through. These were a couple I knew from the last few weeks. They were with another couple, who stood nervously behind them.

  I smiled. “Good morning.” I looked the first woman in the eye. “What sort of night did he have?”

  “Oh, not so bad.” Her face was thin and anxious. “He starts a new round of chemo today and he’s really cross.”

  “Oh, you poor things.” I led them over to their usual table. “They always take it out on their parents.”

  “I know. We had to get out for a bit.” She shivered. “We’ll be busy the rest of the day.”

  “Yup.” I waited. “You want your usual?”

  “Yes. Thanks.” She looked over at the other couple. “We told these people that it’s cheap and filling here, and that you keep an eye out for us.”

  I smiled over at them. “You got a kid on the same ward?”

  “Yes,” the woman whispered. “She was admitted yesterday. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Okay. Well you sit down here, and have a look at the menu. A good breakfast will set you up for the day. Shall I get you tea or coffee to start?”

  “Coffee, please.”

  “All right. Coming right up.” I swung through to the back, my own problems receding a bit. I knew what they’d be going through right now from when Mom had first been diagnosed, then the long slide down to losing her, always hoping that this treatment would work, this one would save her.

 

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