Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate

by Nina Milne

  He swung himself out of bed and she resisted the temptation to close her eyes, to block out the masculinity, the clean muscular lines of his body. A body that had given her so much joy.

  ‘Let me help.’ He picked the rest of her clothes up from the floor and placed them on the bed.

  Scooping up the clothes and tucking the sheet around her, Kaitlin sought refuge in the sumptuous bathroom. She avoided her reflection in the ornate gilded mirror as she scrambled into her dress. It would all be fine once she’d had a chance to shower and put on fresh clothes and focus.

  On her return to the bedroom she found Daniel standing by the door, clad now in jeans, leaning back on the wall.

  ‘What’s the rush? This doesn’t have to be awkward.’

  ‘It’s not awkward. It’s realistic. We have to make sure no one suspects what happened last night.’

  Not that she cared—all that mattered now was the imperative to curtail the rot of unwanted emotion. Filter her heart of even the tiniest propensity towards love. To do that she needed to be Lady Kaitlin Derwent with all the fibre of her body and soul.

  Confusion flickered in his blue eyes and then it was gone. He pushed himself away from the wall and nodded. ‘Of course. I suggest we go downstairs in half an hour—I’ll see if Roberto can chaperone us over breakfast.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  The irony was not lost on her—perfection did not encompass the prickle of incipient tears or add weight to her heart. More stupid pointless feelings that she had to stop, crush, destroy. No matter what it cost her she would find her even keel once more—all she had to do was get through the next hours and it would be over. Daniel would be banished from her life and her mind.

  There was no alternative.

  * * *

  Yet as she surveyed her reflection that evening, prior to the meet-and-greet, tears still threatened to seep.

  Why had she chosen lace for her ball gown? The floor-length, deep V-necked dress was beautiful, it was true—French lace with a floral motif over a nude silk lining. The top half hugged her figure, a slim black band emphasised her slender waist and the skirt flared to the floor. The back view was equally demure, with a bit of sass provided by the keyhole opening.

  But the lace reminded her too much of the night before—the short blue dress, sun-kissed by Venice, being slipped off her shoulders in an urgent sweep of Daniel’s strong hands, the sensation against her skin as it fell to the floor...

  Stop.

  Different dress. Different night. Different woman.

  Tonight Lady Kaitlin Derwent would prevail.

  The night took on an Alice in Wonderland quality, and she really wouldn’t have been surprised to see a white rabbit materialise amongst the bejewelled, designer-clad guests. The ballroom seethed with glamour, amid the pop of champagne corks and under the brilliant glitter of the glorious neo-baroque chandeliers.

  Through it all Kaitlin conversed and smiled, made witty and scintillating conversation, and felt the balm of being Lady Kaitlin heal her. From somewhere she found the dignity not to let her gaze follow Daniel’s powerful form as he too played his part—the host with the most.

  Yet some inner radar gave her an unerring insight into his exact location at any point...some hyper-awareness of him.

  ‘Good-looking devil, isn’t he?’

  Kaitlin found the correct smile for the three-times Oscar-nominated actor, gorgeous in a dress that shimmered silver. ‘There are a number of men here who could be described as such.’

  ‘Daniel Harrington... He doesn’t usually grace events like this—in fact he’s a bit of a dark horse. Is he yours, darling, or can I see if I can win his favour?’

  The demon of jealousy tore its claws across her heart, but Lady Kaitlin didn’t waver. A slight rise of the eyebrows, exactly the right touch of aristocratic hauteur offset by a smile that indicated understanding. ‘He’s as free as the proverbial bird, as far as I’m aware.’

  Surely that must be the worst of this evening? But no... Next up was the auction where she stood next to Daniel, her cheeks aching under the weight of her smile, her vocal cords straining to deliver. But she did it. She managed to get over the impact of him, the smell of him, the memory of him.

  Because as they bantered and delivered just the right sales pitch she remembered the teens she had met and bonded with, and all those other children out there who would benefit from this auction, and she threw herself into it heart and soul.

  All she wanted at the end was to be allowed to leave and seek the sanctuary of her room, but that wasn’t possible.

  ‘And now let the dancing begin! And I’d like to invite our gracious hosts to open the proceedings with the waltz which I understand from Daniel you danced so beautifully at your brother’s wedding, Lady Kaitlin.’

  Please, no. This had to be some sort of joke. But, no—Roberto beamed at her and Kaitlin realised that the nightmare scenario had, against all the odds, got worse.

  Daniel turned to her. ‘I would, of course, be honoured.’

  He held out his hand and his blue eyes glinted with challenge and more than a hint of anger. It enabled her to move towards him, hand outstretched.

  ‘Likewise.’

  As they walked to the dance floor she couldn’t help but ask.

  ‘Was this your idea?’

  ‘No. Roberto asked me if I could waltz. If I’d known what he proposed I wouldn’t have said yes. The only reason I can dance is that my PA dragged me along to classes when her husband somewhat conveniently broke his leg just before they were about to embark on a course. I won’t disgrace you—don’t worry.’

  In truth Kaitlin was more worried about disgracing herself as the strains of Strauss’s waltz began and they took to the floor. Poignancy pierced her as she placed her hand in his, the gap between their bodies so small and yet so full of significance. Because it was a gap that they would never close again.

  For an instant she wasn’t sure she could do it; she wanted to drop his hand and run but that wasn’t possible. Dammit, she had too much pride. She could picture the headlines, taste the humiliation. Reporters would no doubt attribute it to her feelings for Prince Frederick, but Daniel wouldn’t. He would guess the truth and she wouldn’t let that happen. All this emotion had to be stopped, controlled, bottled up—starting now.

  But as she stepped forward in one graceful, fluid movement she could swear she heard the crack of her heart.

  * * *

  Finally the night was over. The music, the chatter, the thud of the auctioneer’s gavel and the sound of shoes on the dance floor were just faint memories that lingered like wraiths.

  Daniel looked across at Kaitlin, standing in the shadows of the balcony that overlooked the ballroom, leaning against the ornate railings with the backdrop of silk hangings behind her.

  ‘There’s nothing left to do,’ he said.

  No one else remained. The last tasks had been completed, the last guest had departed, the staff had gone to recapture their strength for breakfast in a few scant hours. The silence was almost eerie, broken only by the thud of his heart as he surveyed her—so very beautiful in the lace concoction that showcased her poise and emphasised the vividness of her hair.

  Confusion churned in his gut as he tried to work out what the hell had happened that morning to make Kaitlin so unapproachable, to make her withdraw and remain behind that mask of aristocracy.

  ‘We need to talk.’

  She turned in one graceful movement, her expression unreadable. ‘No we don’t. The ball is over and now we’ll go our separate ways.’

  Separate ways. The words filled him with a sudden bleakness.

  ‘Then before we do that I’d like to talk.’

  ‘There is nothing to talk about.’

  ‘I disagree.’

 
She hesitated and then shrugged—a fatalistic lift of her shoulders. ‘OK. Talk.’

  ‘I want to know what happened this morning.’

  A roll of her green eyes. ‘Nothing happened except the fact that the night was over. It’s time to face forward and that means saying goodbye. It’s time for us both to get back to real life. Normal life.’

  Something was wrong; his senses were on edge. And it wasn’t only something wrong with Kaitlin—frustration built inside him at the idea of the vibrant woman he had come to know these past days morphing back into Lady Kaitlin Derwent.

  ‘Is that really what you want—to go back to your “normal” life?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Then it shouldn’t be.’

  The frustration, the knowledge that he didn’t want to say goodbye, the fact that he felt befuddled by emotions he didn’t understand all made his voice sound harsh. But he didn’t care.

  ‘You are more than that, Kaitlin—you have the potential to soar. This past week you’ve been out of your comfort zone and in your element. You can be whatever you want to be.’

  ‘I already am who I want to be.’

  ‘Rubbish. I don’t believe that you want to go back to that art gallery and wait until your parents identify your next eligible husband.’

  Her wince was as palpable as her anger, and he almost regretted the starkness of his words. Almost, but not quite. Because the idea of Kaitlin entering that gilded cage made anger roil in his gut and caused his fists to clench.

  An answering fury flashed back at him as her hands slammed on the curve of her hips. ‘And what is so wrong with that, if it gives me what I want? A family. Children to love and cherish.’

  Suddenly all his anger drained away, replaced by a sudden wish that he could give her what she wanted alongside the bleak knowledge that he couldn’t. For one fleeting moment he tried to imagine it—but even the thought sent a cartwheel of panic through him. He was a man who had brought sorrow to the family he had—family was not for him. It was too messy, too complicated....too demanding.

  But perhaps there was something he could do for Kaitlin. ‘It doesn’t always work out like that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My mother entered a gilded cage, made a deal—an alliance with my stepfather. After my father died she had no one to turn to and a baby on the way. She kept working as a waitress until the last possible moment but it wasn’t easy. And it didn’t become easier after I was born. She met my stepfather—he was older than her, he was rich and he was powerful and he wanted her. So she made a deal with him and married him. She did it for me—so that I could have everything in life.’

  Guilt twisted its ever-present dagger once more—a reminder that love led to pain.

  Kaitlin stepped towards him, the light of the ornate chandelier glinted off her Titian hair, bathed her skin in a golden glow, as she placed a hand on his arm. ‘Maybe she did it for herself as well. I can’t imagine how desperate and lonely she must have felt.’

  ‘She didn’t do it for herself. My stepfather is in the mob.’

  Kaitlin’s mouth formed a circle of surprise. ‘The mafia?’

  ‘Yes.’ The fact brought an extra burn of shame. ‘A bona fide criminal and my mother knew it. He wanted more children and she wanted a big family and he promised that he would give me the benefits of wealth—a luxurious lifestyle and an excellent education with all the extras.’

  Impossible to blame his mother for her acceptance when it had been done for love of him.

  ‘But every penny of his money came from the proceeds of crime. My mother isn’t a bad person—she did it for me because she could see the way her life was headed and she couldn’t see a better way out.’

  ‘But...what happened? You aren’t still connected to the mob, are you?’

  ‘No. I walked away when I was eighteen—when I realised the deal was that I would go to law school and then work for the family, to protect the criminals. Until then I had turned a blind eye, but I couldn’t play an active part.’

  His skin prickled in recognition of the hypocrisy of his own culpability. He’d reaped the benefits of his stepfather’s crimes and then refused to help him in return.

  ‘I told my stepfather I would pay him back but that I wanted to go legit—make my own way. He went ballistic.’

  It was then that he’d seen the man his stepfather could be—the side of him he kept away from his family, the part of him that had allowed him to rise in the ranks of the mafia. Even now he could feel the ripple of fear and shock as he’d faced the man he had believed cared for him.

  ‘I’m not sure what would have happened if my stepbrother hadn’t stepped in.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘They told me I had a choice. I either had to comply or they would turn their backs on me. By which they meant I would no longer be part of the family—I would be as good as dead to them. I left.’

  ‘But your mother...’

  ‘I haven’t seen my mother or my half-siblings since. I send a birthday card every year, and this year I asked her to come to Barcelona. It’s ten years ago, and now I have the means to support her and my siblings, to match my stepfather’s wealth. But she didn’t come. Instead one of the family goons came—with a message. No one wants to meet a ghost. I am still dead to them and that is the way it will remain.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re right. I made my choice to walk away. I was a fool to expect her to come running when I asked her after what I did.’

  ‘No. You weren’t a fool. I cannot imagine the pain it caused you to walk away. And you were right to try for a reunion—everything you told me about your mother makes me know that she must still love you. Life isn’t black and white—it is not as simple as you walking away so she can never forgive you. But maybe first you need to forgive yourself.’

  The near anguish in her voice as she tightened her clasp on his arm, moved closer, recalled him to the here and now. He saw the compassion in her eyes and for a heartbeat he wanted to step forward and hold her, let her hold him, accept her warmth and offer her...

  Offer her what?

  Ironically enough, he had nothing to offer her—just as he had nothing to offer his mother. What Kaitlin deserved was love—the type of love that had existed between his parents. All he could give her was the benefit of experience and hope that he could prevent her from making the same errors his mother had made.

  Stepping back, he pulled away from her clasp, forced his expression into neutral. ‘I didn’t tell you any of this for sympathy or analysis.’

  Hurt flickered across her eyes but he forced his arms to remain by his side.

  ‘I told you because I want you to understand that the type of alliance you are thinking about can backfire. My mother gained security and a family, but at a price—she’s had a loveless marriage, endured humiliation as part of the fabric of her very being and lived off the proceeds of crime. She did it for me, and I repaid her by walking away. It is that black and white. So sometimes choices, however good they sound on paper, turn out to have far-reaching consequences. You deserve better than an alliance, Kaitlin—you deserve love. You deserve what my parents had.’

  Her fingers twined in the dramatic sweep of her gown and her mouth opened in preparation for speech. Then came that small characteristic shake of the head and she pressed her lips together in a gesture he had come to know and love—

  His feet froze to the plush carpet and his limbs grew heavy with shock. Love? The word wasn’t in his lexicon and he didn’t want it to be. Did he? His hand rose almost of its own volition and he forced it down. Words hovered on his tongue in a tangle and he swallowed them. He didn’t have time for love—didn’t understand the concept or what went with it. Couldn’t offer something he didn’t have the ability to give.

  She raised her eyes to his, brillian
t with a glitter he didn’t understand. ‘What about you, Daniel? Don’t you deserve love as well?’

  ‘No.’ The syllable reverberated in the confines of the balcony with a harsh echo. ‘I don’t want love—neither to give or receive it.’

  ‘You see, neither do I. But I do want children. So, I truly appreciate everything you have said, and I won’t enter into any alliance unless I have a watertight exit route that enables me to take my children with me.’

  He felt frustration mixed with the bitter tang of failure as she backed away.

  ‘I also appreciate the past days and I truly wish you a happy life—I hope you get to see your mother and your siblings again. Goodbye.’

  Words tumbled about in his brain, emotions churned in his gut and he knew they needed to be dispelled, eradicated, because they could do neither Kaitlin nor himself any good. So he would exit from her life, go back to his own—to a life ruled by his sheer will to succeed, make his company even bigger and better, grow his own personal fortune, buy a car, a yacht—whatever it took to prove he’d made it.

  ‘Goodbye, Kaitlin. I wish you happiness.’

  For a heartbeat she stood stock-still and he etched her image into his brain, and then she turned and left the balcony, her back ramrod-straight, the click of her heels echoing and fading with finality.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KAITLIN TOLD HERSELF to be strong. She recalled the words of the counsellor she’d been seeing for the past three months—a woman who had helped her in ways she couldn’t possibly have helped herself.

  ‘Sometimes the safe option isn’t the right one.’

  Pushing her shoulders back, she entered the lounge where her parents sat. For an instant guilt touched her—the Duke and Duchess were getting older, and for all their faults their love and pride in the Derwent name and heritage was real.

  ‘Kaitlin.’ Her mother didn’t bother with preliminaries. ‘We have news for you. We believe there is a possibility that Prince Frederick may consider a renewal of his offer to you.’

  The news was not a shock—in the past three months Prince Frederick hadn’t been seen with any other eligible women, but then again neither had he contacted Kaitlin.