Harlequin Presents--June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Dani Collins

  “So you’re telling me you don’t approve of my lifestyle?”

  “Not at all,” Clare retorted. “I admit that I do try to avoid men who tend to forge their own path and leave people behind along the way, yes, but this isn’t about me. There’s a world of difference between what you’ve allowed the world to see and what you’re really like beneath all that shine and glamor.”

  “Despite your...deep dive—” his distaste for the term couldn’t be clearer and his nostrils flared with a rare show of temper “—into my life, you still don’t really know me. I’m not interested in pursuing all those things you mentioned. Why tie yourself to one place when instead you can have the freedom to explore the entire world?” He moved his hand between them dismissively, as if the things she mentioned were totally unimportant. “Belonging anywhere is overrated, Ms. Roberts. The only time the world listens to you is when you dictate to it. On your own terms.”

  He was drawing clear boundaries, and it would be wise for her to follow them. And yet she couldn’t help feeling this impression he was giving right now, of a man who wanted to conquer the entire world, was just a mask he was putting on.

  A facade he had to display in public.

  But whether her suspicions were true or not, it wasn’t her business, Clare reminded herself. The man was telling her who and what he was, and she should stop searching for qualities in him that weren’t present. She’d done this with her dad too. Year after year, she’d convinced herself that he would come back for her one day. When the truth was, he’d barely even bothered ringing her on her birthday or at Christmas.

  Clare gave her assent with a nod. “Fine, Mr. Kohli. As you say.”

  “Toeing the line now, Clare?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not my job to moralize to you, is it? It’s to make you look perfect in front of the world. To give this shiny veneer of yours a human element. And for the most part, I’m glad to have followed my instinct about you.”

  “Which instinct is that?”

  Clare lost her patience. “That you aren’t the villain the world is calling you, Mr. Kohli,” she said sweetly.

  He grinned. “So how are you going to improve my image? And for heaven’s sake, please can you stop calling me Mr. Kohli in that prissy voice?”

  “Fine. Your love life...it’s a trail of broken hearts and short affairs that don’t paint a homely picture of you.”

  “I didn’t realize we were trying to find me a bride.”

  Clare rolled her eyes. “This isn’t funny, Dev. For example, did you know that one of your exes, Sahara Jones, has taken to posting old pics of you and her on her social media this past week? Apparently, your breakup three months ago didn’t suit her. She’s got seven and a half million rabid followers who’re all dying to know if you’re back together as she’s been hinting at and who’ll turn into an angry mob at just one word from her. Is Ms. Jones going to brew more trouble for you in the coming weeks?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, surprisingly slow for a man who’d cut such a swathe through the worlds of competitive sport and then business with a dangerously irresistible combination of charm and smarts.

  “Is she the type to drag your name through the mud? Plaster private information about you all over social media and make you look horrible? Because, right now, your reputation can’t take any more hits.”

  “Of course not.”

  “And yet I’ll point out that she was here on board your yacht last night—I recognized her. Presumably she was there without your knowledge?”

  “You miss nothing,” he said, jaw tight. Grudgingly.

  “I don’t. Neither did I miss that you had her escorted out by security with very little ceremony and that she didn’t look very happy about it. So details, please.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I need details of your breakup so that I can gauge the possible consequences for myself.”

  His muttered something under his breath. “Sahara and I dated for just over two weeks. I ended our relationship, such as it was, when I realized she had no intention of respecting my privacy.

  “On our second date, she sprung some talk show host on me so that we could both discuss all the disadvantages we’d each had to overcome to succeed. She was in talks with her agent about writing a book about our relationship. As you know, she’s a model, but not massively famous and she had to jump through a lot of hoops to get there.”

  “And?” Clare prompted.

  “She thought she’d ride the wave to stardom with me as her golden ticket. But I wasn’t interested in a woman who was trying to probe into aspects of my life that were none of her business.”

  “What kind of salacious details did she manage to uncover?”

  His jaw tightened. “There were no salacious details, Clare. She had no business thinking she could sell my life story as some romantic journey we were on together. I told my lawyers to sue her if she so much as whispers anything about me again. After the show she put on last time, she was fired from her latest contract. She was here last night to convince me that it had never been her idea in the first place. To help her land a different contract.”

  “Are you going to help her?”

  Dev rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Yes. I’m not a callous bastard, Clare. I’ve already put her in touch with a friend of mine. Even though Sahara should’ve known better than to drag me into her drama.”

  “So I should count the matter as being resolved for now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “How do I know she won’t create more trouble?” The frost in his eyes sent a small shiver down her spine. “Because she got what she wanted from me.”

  Clare nodded, biting back the question that lingered on her lips. “Can I suggest then, Dev, that until we make sure the world is firmly on your side, that you give up...women?”

  The dratted man laughed. A full-bodied, rollicking kind of laugh that made her breath hitch in her throat. That transformed his face from a collection of perfectly symmetrical features to something altogether beautiful. A dimple sliced the hollow of his cheek and his eyes shone. “I don’t think I’ve ever been ordered around quite so strictly in my life.”

  “Not even by your mother?” Clare added, enjoying the beauty of his smile and the warm fuzzies it aroused in her belly far too much.

  He sobered instantly, but the warmth in his eyes lingered. “No. Not even by Mama. Not even when I made her life hell. Not even when I frustrated her no end and caused her grief.” He gave a sigh that seemed to rock through the solid core of him. “My mother was one of those souls that was all love and patience and kindness itself.”

  “The point is,” Clare said, wanting to chase away the shadows that crossed his face at the mention of his lovely sounding mother, “that when it comes down to it, hiring me to clean up your image is exactly like being in school with a very strict headmistress. This might never work if you balk at every—”

  “Ah... I can see now why your company’s so successful, Clare.”

  “Can you?” she said, having forgotten what she was going to say.

  “I have no problem whatsoever imagining you as a strict headmistress.”

  He delivered it very tongue-in-cheek, his dark eyes full of an easy geniality. Clare couldn’t blame him for teasing her, but she still flushed all over at his comment. She took a deep breath, hoping a fresh burst of oxygen would clear the miasma of longing that seemed to take over her brain and body.

  A timely reminder to herself that Dev wasn’t really the hero she was making him out to be in her head.

  “I’m not going to apologize every time I have to advise you about your...sex life. In fact, to be on the safe side, I’d say, just don’t have any. For a good, long while,” she added feeling perversely petty.

  Clare had never thought of herself as wicked,
but the idea of policing Dev’s sex life—because clearly the man was as distrustful of love as she was—filled her with delight. Whoever said there was a silver lining to every cloud was absolutely right.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “EXCUSE ME? Did you actually order me to curtail my sex life?” Dev repeated her words, even though he’d heard her perfectly well. More importantly, he also agreed with her 100 percent.

  The last thing he wanted or needed right now was to get embroiled with another woman.

  He should have expected Sahara to show up after she’d told him she was in São Paulo. To network, she’d said, citing a renowned photographer that Dev was friends with. He had felt a little sorry for her when she’d lost her contract. But he couldn’t help wondering if she’d felt anything for him at all. Or had he simply been a rich, powerful, good-looking walking, talking cardboard cutout of a man for her to drape herself over?

  Can you blame her for that? a voice whispered inside his head. When it’s exactly what you want from your flings, when you pursue exactly the kind of woman who has no interest in you except your sexual prowess, your fame and your money?

  “Yes, I did,” declared the woman in front of him, dragging his attention away from the kind of thoughts he hated. Conscience-stirring thoughts that made a man weak and useless if he listened to them too much.

  Clare continued. “As horrendously novel as this might seem to you, I’m the boss of you right now, Dev, until we fix this scandal and your image. Until we show the world that you’re a wonderful, conscientious man who cares about women in the workplace, especially yours. I should decide who you see, who you talk to and who you kiss...” she declared, looking diminutive and delicate and decidedly ignoring the pink blush that crept up her neck.

  Although there was nothing delicate about the steel in her words or the way she radiated a sort of resolute competence.

  Even as she looked ridiculously cute in a makeshift dress styled from his shirt and belt. She was so much shorter than him that the hem of the shirt, thankfully, reached her knees.

  Dev moved until he was standing at the foot of the few steps to the sunken seating area while she stood at the top. Her face still only came level with his, just. The wide-open collar of the shirt betrayed the rapidly fluttering pulse at the base of her neck. A prickle of awareness hummed to life under his skin. He studied the sharp curve of her jaw, the straightness of her nose and the blue shadows under her eyes that made them sparkle even more.

  Her hair, cut precisely to enhance the line of her jaw, looked decidedly rumpled right now. His mouth twitched at the thought of the ever professional and polished Ms. Roberts sputtering away at the indignity of not being able to don the mask of ruthless efficiency she usually portrayed.

  Once he’d had confirmation that there were some truly dangerous men chasing her—his head of security had even mentioned talk of a bounty on her head—he’d felt an immediate urgency to ensure for himself that Clare, with her larger than life smile and prickly demands, was kept safe from harm.

  So instead of waiting any longer, he’d gone in search of her. And stared at her sleeping form for a full ten minutes like a horny teenager who was gazing at his first crush. She’d looked so fragile napping on the main deck, her mouth soft and lush in repose. Except Dev never normally felt the need to pursue women. Not since he’d shot up to his height of six-two at the age of sixteen. They’d done all the chasing.

  And he wasn’t going to begin now.

  It was just that there was something deliciously delightful about riling up Clare Roberts for the simple fact that her blue eyes widened and her lovely little mouth gaped and a myriad of expressions crossed her equally beautiful face. All the while she processed her frantic thoughts and inevitably arrived at an affected indifference that even she herself didn’t quite buy.

  “So you’re going to be like a twenty-first-century chastity belt,” he added.

  She scrunched her cute nose at the thought, reminding him of a proud, pretty little bird sticking its beak up into the air. But Dev didn’t miss the quick sweep of her gaze over his lower abdominal region, as if wondering how such a contraption would work on him.

  His nether regions, suitably impressed by her avid perusal, perked up with interest.

  “Not quite, but if it helps you get the idea, I say run with the image.”

  Dev grinned. “I think you’re taking your role in my life too far,” he added, holding up his hand for her.

  After a few seconds’ hesitation, she took it. A jolt of sensation clamped him instantly, the memory of those delicate fingers tentatively exploring his body sneaking upon him suddenly. He let go of her hand as soon as her stiletto-clad feet hit the carpet.

  “I’m absolutely not. Rich playboy billionaires are just as accountable to the verdict of the masses as we normal people are, thanks to the power of social media. Even a hint of one more scandal right now could be enough to start a domino effect. Believe me, Dev, if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to manage reputations.”

  “Fine, I’ll try not to attract too many women. Especially if I have to disappoint them with a no access message to—” he moved his hand over his chest “—all this.”

  Just as he expected, her blue eyes widened and her lush mouth gasped with indignation.

  “Shall we get back to the business at hand?” she asked pointedly, her chin lifting.

  “Absolutely,” Dev said, grinning.

  Celibacy might not be such a hard concept with the enchanting Ms. Roberts to entertain him. Clare was so full of complexities that Dev couldn’t help but be amused by her. As he settled down on the opposite side of the couch from her, he knew that she was precisely the right woman to fix both his personal image and that of his company.

  To bring Athleta back onto the right path.

  For all that he’d occasionally caught her gazing at him with a flash of desire, he believed that she would be all business. He could trust her. Dev had known that, even the first night he’d met her at the charity gala. Like all the big decisions he’d taken in life, he’d gone with his gut on that one.

  It was why he’d broken his own rule and taken an unknown woman to his bed. Why he’d indulged himself so thoroughly when—despite all the spectacular stories the press wrote about his supposed indiscreet affairs with any woman he pleased—he never usually gave into his desires with such little forethought.

  And while Clare fixed his image problem, he was determined to take a good hard look at the choices he’d been making for the last fifteen years.

  That the man he’d trusted the most had been able to abuse not only Dev’s trust but that of a woman in his employ was a direct consequence of the choices Dev had made years ago, while at military school.

  Fueled by resentment and rejection, he’d set a goal for himself. And in the pursuit of that goal, he’d become bedfellows with a number of men whose principles he didn’t always agree with.

  Now he had achieved success and wealth beyond his wildest dreams. Maybe enough to even impress his arrogant father, with his ridiculously extravagant expectations for his children. As if they were all trophies and achievements to be polished and put on display instead of breathing, living people with flaws and dreams of their own.

  And yet Dev had to admit to himself that somewhere along the path he’d chosen for himself, he’d lost his way.

  He’d surrounded himself with people who courted success and wealth while trading in their principles. That had never been him—whether in his personal life or in business.

  Which meant this was his chance to find the right path this time—he’d continue to build Athleta into the biggest and best sports brand in the world, but he wasn’t going to do that at the cost of losing himself.

  * * *

  “What else is in your plan,” he said, nodding at the glossy folder she held in her hands, “other than curtailing m
y...”

  “...extracurricular activities?” Clare finished his sentence, picking up the thread of the conversation again. “Yes, of course.”

  She had no idea why she was this flustered. Dev wasn’t even a difficult client. She’d had to put up with much worse, especially before The London Connection had yet to build the solid reputation it had now. And yet it was only Dev who again and again, tripped her circuits, for want of a better term.

  Dev leaned back into the luxury leather seat, a devilish glint in his eyes.

  “Right...” Clare opened her laptop and clicked onto the notes file she’d prepared earlier. “I’m just going to pull up this spreadsheet I created of the assets and liabilities we have to work with.”

  At that, he got up and took the seat next to her. The couch she was sitting on was large enough to provide ample space between them, and yet it felt as if the very air she was breathing was charged with the vitality of the man.

  It took Clare a few seconds to focus on the list in front of her. She cleared her throat and then caught him trying to peek at her spreadsheet. “There aren’t any secrets here, Dev.”

  “Oh, I know that. But it’s interesting to see one’s life so neatly reduced to two columns. I’m especially curious about the liabilities list.”

  Clare rolled her eyes. And thanked the universe for giving her the sense to remove that list from this sheet. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle your masculine sensibilities delicately. I know a thing or two about the male ego.”

  He laughed at that and the sound enveloped Clare. “Absolutely not, Ms. Roberts. Since you have curtailed any and all of my usual entertainments, this could be the only highlight of my week. Or even the month.”