The Spanish Tycoon's Takeover

by Michelle Douglas

  The new boss...

  Her family hotel has just been taken over and Wynne needs to do whatever it takes to seem bright, breezy and unflappable. Easier said than done! If she can work nicely with the charismatic Xavier Ramos then her colleagues might just keep their jobs...

  Xavier has no qualms about ruthlessly transforming a homely motel into a chic boutique hotel—only, he has a fight on his hands against fiery Wynne! While he’s busy taking over her hotel, with every battle he finds she’s taking another piece of his heart...

  “What kind of comfort are you offering me, Wynne?”

  She glanced up into his eyes. The cold, calculated hardness in them—so at odds with his touch and his words—made her shrink back inside of herself. She took a step away from him, tugging her hand free. “Not that kind of comfort.”

  Her voice sounded like it belonged to somebody else.

  “Are you sure?”

  How could he make his voice so warm when his eyes were so hard?

  “Positive.”

  “Because I do not fraternize with my staff.”

  She prickled at the threat latent in his words—that if she attempted to fraternize with him, he’d see it as grounds for instant dismissal. She couldn’t be dismissed. Not yet.

  She drew herself up to her full height. “If by fraternize you mean sleep with, then let me assure you that you’re safe from me.” She whirled around and made for the conference room. “You’re not my type,” she hurled over her shoulder.

  Dear Reader,

  I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of a prior generation’s actions coming back to haunt the current generation, which is what happens to Wynne and Xavier in The Spanish Tycoon’s Takeover. Wynne’s grandmother and Xavier’s grandfather have had “dealings” with each other in the past—fifty years ago to be precise—and the fallout from that time leaves our trusty heroine and hero feeling that the ground beneath their feet is less than solid.

  However, one of the things I so love about the romance genre is that themes of forgiveness abound. Within the pages of a romance novel, we can discover understanding and empathy...and love. Before Wynne and Xavier can win love, however, they need to decide whether they’ll follow in the footsteps of their much-loved elders...or whether they have the courage to forge a new path that leads to each other.

  This is a story about two strong people who have very different but equally worthwhile goals. Love is a risk...but it’s a risk worth taking when you find the right person. And for Wynne and Xavier, love sneaks up on them when they’re least expecting it.

  I have my fingers crossed that you will love Wynne and Xavier’s story as much as I do.

  Hugs,

  Michelle

  THE SPANISH

  TYCOON’S TAKEOVER

  Michelle Douglas

  Michelle Douglas has been writing for Harlequin since 2007 and believes she has the best job in the world. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero, a house full of dust and books, and an eclectic collection of ’60s and ’70s vinyl. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website, michelle-douglas.com.

  Books by Michelle Douglas

  Harlequin Romance

  The Vineyards of Calanetti

  Reunited by a Baby Secret

  The Wild Ones

  Her Irresistible Protector

  The Rebel and the Heiress

  Bellaroo Creek!

  The Cattleman’s Ready-Made Family

  Mothers in a Million

  First Comes Baby...

  The Man Who Saw Her Beauty

  Bella’s Impossible Boss

  The Nanny Who Saved Christmas

  The Redemption of Rico D’Angelo

  Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor

  Snowbound Surprise for the Billionaire

  The Millionaire and the Maid

  A Deal to Mend Their Marriage

  An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire

  Visit the Author Profile page

  at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  To Janet, who always champions the underdog and

  expects no thanks in return. You’re an inspiration.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EXCERPT FROM MISS PRIM AND THE MAVERICK MILLIONAIRE BY NINA SINGH

  CHAPTER ONE

  WYNNE STEPHENS TURNED a full circle on the spot, pressing a hand to her churning stomach. The foyer of Aggie’s Retreat gleamed. She should be proud.

  But, even looking at it through her usual rose-tinted glasses, she knew the sparkling cleanliness couldn’t hide the fact that the carpet on the stairs leading to the first-floor rooms was badly worn and starting to fray, or that the ornate double doors leading into what a brass plaque grandly pronounced as The Drawing Room were such poor Victorian imitations as to be almost laughable. The pounding at her temples increased.

  To make matters worse, the skylight above them flooded the foyer with so much Queensland Gold Coast sunshine as to completely counter the motel’s cosy Victorian manor theme.

  No, no—sunlight is good.

  Sunlight was a mood-enhancer, right? She wanted Xavier Mateo Ramos in as good a mood as possible. And why shouldn’t he be? He’d just bought her pride and joy.

  ‘I thought he’d be here by now.’ Tina drummed her fingers repeatedly against the back of the stool she stood behind.

  Wynne couldn’t sit either. She moved behind the check-in counter to tidy the tourist brochures arranged on a discreet stand at its far end. They didn’t need tidying, but her hands needed to be busy. She tried to keep her face smooth, despite the pounding at her temples and the nausea swirling in her stomach.

  She managed a shrug. Whether she managed nonchalance, though, was debatable.

  ‘He didn’t give an exact time for his arrival.’ She’d been expecting a text for the last couple of hours, but though she’d kept checking one hadn’t arrived. She checked her phone again all the same.

  ‘It’s a long flight from Spain. Maybe he and his party decided to stay over in Sydney for another day.’

  ‘I wish he’d stay there forever!’

  Wynne tried to send her front-of-house reception clerk and right-hand woman a buck-up smile, but if the narrowing of Tina’s eyes was anything to go by she hadn’t succeeded.

  ‘I have a bad feeling about this.’ Tina thumped down to the stool. ‘If your grandmother knew she’d have kittens, and—’

  ‘But my grandmother doesn’t know,’ Wynne cut in, her heart twisting. ‘She’s never going to know. She...’

  Her voice cracked and she coughed to cover it. She pressed her lips together, afraid that if she said another word the burning at the backs of her eyes would get the better of her. If Aggie knew Wynne had sold her beloved motel she’d... Well, there was no knowing what she’d do. Aggie had always been unpredictable in everything exce
pt her love for Aggie’s Retreat and for Wynne. One thing was certain, though—it would break her heart.

  Wynne pulled in a deep breath. Alzheimer’s disease, however, ensured that Aggie would never know.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Tina reached across to squeeze her hand. ‘That wasn’t fair of me.’

  She knew what Tina was really thinking, but was too tactful to voice—Would it really have been so bad to move Aggie from her expensive private nursing home to a cheaper facility? If she’d done so, she wouldn’t have had to sell Aggie’s Retreat.

  Wynne hoped that she lived a further thirty-three years before she was called upon to make another such soul-destroying decision—a damned if she did and damned if she didn’t decision: to keep the motel that was her beloved grandmother’s legacy or to ensure that her grandmother’s comfort and what little happiness remained to her was secured.

  God forgive her, but she’d chosen the latter.

  And today she’d come face to face with the man who’d bought Aggie’s Retreat.

  Darkness threatened the edges of her vision and she had to concentrate on her breathing in an effort to counter it. You will not faint!

  It wasn’t even that she cared so much for herself, but the sale of the motel didn’t only affect her, and that knowledge tormented her. She could start over easily enough. She was relatively young. She had plenty of experience in the industry. As hard as it would be to walk away from Aggie’s Retreat, she’d find another position in the blink of an eye if she needed to. But her staff...

  Dear God! She pressed both hands to her stomach. She’d been told by more than one person in the industry that she employed the dregs of society. Her nostrils flared. She knew exactly what it was like to be considered not good enough. Her mother mightn’t have said the words out loud, but her actions had sent a loud and clear message. Duncan hadn’t had any such qualms. He hadn’t minced his words when he’d told her she wasn’t polished enough, sophisticated enough, good enough to mix in his world.

  She swallowed. Her staff had proved over and over again that they were more than capable of doing the jobs assigned to them. She owed them. And she was determined that they would all rise above the spiteful criticisms and petty insults and prove exactly how worthy they were.

  She just needed to convince her new boss to give them a chance. That was all.

  She glanced across at Tina. ‘I know you’re worried about your position here, but I’m sure it’s as safe as houses.’

  She said it with more confidence than she felt, but Xavier Ramos had signed her to a two-year contract as the motel’s manager. Which surely gave her hiring and firing rights. In which case Tina wouldn’t be going anywhere. Nor would April or Libby or Meg or Justin or Graeme.

  Wynne crossed her fingers and her toes. Tina needed this job. She was locked in a vicious custody battle with her despicable ex-husband. This job not only provided proof of Tina’s ability to provide financially for herself and her children, but the flexibility in her hours meant she had few childcare worries.

  ‘What if he decides to bring in his own people?’

  ‘Like who? He’s Spanish. He doesn’t have his own people. At least not here in Australia. We’re his people.’

  But they both knew that with a single snap of his fingers he could toss them all out on their ears. Their new boss had the wherewithal to throw around more money in a day than either she or Tina would make in ten years combined. Men like that set their own rules.

  Wynne straightened. He had agreed to hire her as manager, and that would give her the opportunity to fight for the staff, to make a case for them if need be, to make him listen.

  Tina scowled. ‘These tycoon types always have their own people. He probably comes from one of those huge extended families. I bet he has an army of nephews and nieces, aunts and uncles and endless cousins who all need jobs. There...there might even be an arm of the family that’s scandalous...and he’s looking for a way to exile them overseas...and means to use Aggie’s Retreat as a bribe. There could be vendettas and—’

  Wynne started to laugh. ‘You’ve been watching too many soap operas. I hope he gets here soon, because we’re both starting to play the worst-case scenario game.’

  Tina thrust her jaw out. ‘What if he decides to turn Aggie’s Retreat into one of those signature Ramos extravagances? None of us will come up to scratch if that happens.’

  Unfortunately that was true. But... ‘This place is too small.’

  If the Ramos chain had decided to move into the Gold Coast market with one of their signature hotels, they wouldn’t have chosen a tiny little motor inn as their starting point.

  ‘Aggie’s Retreat—’ she glanced around wondering why Xavier had bought it without even seeing it ‘—is way too small scale for the Ramos chain.’

  ‘I wish you’d been able to find out more,’ Tina grumbled.

  So did Wynne. While she’d shared an extensive email and phone correspondence with Xavier, he’d been tight-lipped about his plans for the motel. She pulled in a breath.

  ‘Things will change—that’s inevitable—but some of those changes will be for the better. At least all the endless repairs that have started piling up will get done.’ And not before time. No longer to worry about leaky taps, wonky wiring and broken roof tiles—what bliss!

  She sent Tina a suddenly mischievous grin. ‘Who knows? He might even make over the motel in a Spanish style.’

  Tina finally laughed. ‘Aggie’s dream! Now, that would be fun.’

  Wynne rubbed damp palms down the sides of her black trousers. ‘And don’t forget he assured me that our vision for the motel was in line. Why on earth would he hire me on a two-year contract otherwise?’

  ‘To get you to sign on the dotted line.’

  But why? Why would someone with the Ramos name want this little old motor inn of no account?

  She hadn’t questioned it too much at the time, had simply been grateful that the sale would provide her with the financial wherewithal to take care of her grandmother. She squared her shoulders.

  ‘Let’s stop second-guessing the man. Our questions will get answered soon enough. Today we’re simply going to wow him with our renowned hospitality.’

  Tina gave a nod, before sending Wynne a sidelong glance. ‘Aren’t you even a little bit nervous about meeting him?’

  She wanted to deny it, but found herself running a hand across her chest in a useless effort to ease the tension that had it clenched up tight.

  ‘Terrified.’ She clenched and unclenched her hands. ‘I thought signing the sale contract would be the worst moment in this whole sorry business, but this is coming in a very close second.’

  Tina hugged her. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been a tactless cow.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’re as nervous as I am—that’s all. And just as invested.’

  But the moment Xavier Ramos strode through the front door Wynne would no longer be the owner of Aggie’s Retreat. Technically she wasn’t the owner now, but it wouldn’t feel real until Xavier strode through those doors to stake claim to it.

  A black pit opened up inside her.

  ‘Misses! Miss Wynne! Miss Tina!’ Libby came clattering down the stairs from the first floor.

  ‘No running!’ Wynne and Tina shouted at the same time.

  ‘Sorry, Miss Wynne. Sorry, Miss Tina.’ Their exhortations barely dimmed Libby’s Labrador-puppy-like excitement. ‘Miss April told me to tell you a limer...limo...that a big fancy car is coming down the street.’

  Wynne’s heart started to hammer and she envied Libby her big, guileless smile. Libby was one of the team of young Down Syndrome workers that Wynne had hired from a local shelter. They formed a significant part of the housekeeping and gardening staff. April, her housekeeping manager, had been hired on a prison release parole programme. As had her maintenan
ce man Justin. Tina and Meg had been hired from an agency that placed women who were victims of domestic abuse into the workforce. The dregs of society? Not likely!

  She swallowed. They were her family. She loved them.

  And yet she’d put her grandmother first. That knowledge—the guilt—ate away at her. She had to do her best for them. Better than her best.

  She would not let her new boss fire them.

  ‘Thank you, Libby. Now, back upstairs with you and thank April for the warning. And no running this time.’

  With a grin, Libby set off upstairs again, though thankfully at a more sedate pace.

  How will you stop him? If he wants to fire them, how will you stop him?

  She’d think of something. But hopefully it wouldn’t be necessary.

  Through the expanse of glass at the front of the building she and Tina watched a long white limousine move down the drive, past the row of Christmas palms, to slide to a smooth halt by the front doors.

  ‘Good luck to us,’ Tina whispered. ‘I’m saying prayers...lots of prayers.’

  Wynne moved out from behind the reception desk—a long curved confection of pine masquerading as polished oak—and then wasn’t sure what she should do. Hovering in the foyer like this made her feel like a fool.

  She glanced around the faux Victorian interior and, as always, it made her smile. The Axminster carpet might be faded, and there might be the odd crack in the plasterwork, but the wooden staircase gleamed with the same rich lustre as the reception desk, the ginormous vase of gladioli looked stately on its marble stand, while the ornate mirror above them reflected an abundance of light over the space. The one thing Aggie’s Retreat did well was its welcome.

  Wynne turned as a tall figure encased in an impeccable business suit strode through the door held open for him by his chauffeur. He stopped and surveyed the foyer through narrowed eyes, his chin held at an arrogant angle. His nostrils flared and light briefly blazed in his eyes before it was abruptly checked.

  Wynne blinked—and swallowed. Dear Lord, the man was tall. And...um...broad. Dark eyes speared her with a steely gaze. Very slowly he moved towards her, and the closer he came the more he reminded her of something primal and immovable—like a mountain. Such a large man had no right to move with such panther-like grace. She flashed to a vision of him bursting the seams at the shoulders and arms of his jacket like the Incredible Hulk. Except...