Manhattan Millionaire's Cinderella

Sun Chara

A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Contents

Sun Chara

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Love Romance?

About HarperImpulse

Copyright

About the Publisher

Sun Chara

Greetings from southern California! I’m a teacher turned actor/writer and have appeared on stage and film in How the Other Half Loves, General Hospital, and McGee & Me. The showbiz background comes in handy with speaking engagements, judging RWA contests, and judging the Emmys. I have a Master of Arts Degree, and I'm a member of the Screen Actors Guild and Romance Writers of America. Globetrotting for lore (once, on an excursion amidst the pyramids in the Valley of the Kings, a gentleman offered fifteen camels for my hand…now had it been race horses…) while keeping tabs on Hollywood leads, I love creating stories of pure passion with global thrills!

To my sweet mom, bros Joe and Harry and family, and the beautiful people of Cyprus, England and across the globe … you shine!

A super nova thanks to my wonderful editor Charlotte Ledger who spoke words of wonder: 'I really feel it's meant to be having picked you out of SYTYCW!' Wow!

Bunches of thanks to the best ever publishing team at Harper Impulse … you are magical!

And to everyone who has a dream, Never Give Up!

'With God all things are possible.'

CHAPTER ONE

Cade Sloan—Manhattan’s hotshot bachelor on the brink of bankruptcy .

Cade read the headline and hurled the newspaper into the trashcan, the taunting words searing his brain. Prowling back and forth his high-rise office, he paused mid stride and zoned in on his secretary, who sat ramrod straight, her fingers flying across the computer keyboard.

“Ms. McLow—” The words dissolved on his tongue, and he scratched his head. What was her name anyway?

“Ms. McLow—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ms.—”

“McLowsky.” She lifted a shapely brow and tossed him a glance through her coke-bottle thick lenses, a blush on her cheeks. “Nina McLowsky.”

Did she just click her tongue in disapproval?

Just his luck. She came with attitude.

“Of course.” He swiped a finger around his shirt collar, and his chest tightened. “Nina McLowsky.” Scrambling to regroup, he seized the coffee-mate from the counter and filled a cup with coffee.

She looked like she had walked out of a 1950s Norman Rockwell painting, the epitome of diplomacy and efficiency. He stroked his throat, and then shook his head, amazed. He was actually flirting with the idea of a merger …with her.

At least with her there’d be no emotional tantrums. The thought had him breaking out in a sweat. He never let any woman get close enough to get a glimpse beneath the surface, to know what made him tick. ‘Never trust a woman,’ was his motto.

A cab horn blared amidst the congested traffic on Madison Avenue ripped through his thoughts. He flinched in annoyance.

He hadn’t felt this out of his depth since he was a boy, and he had vowed never to feel like this again. And he was running out of options. His global real estate investments were about to tank. He had to score a mega hit or he was going to cave. Fast.

And that rankled his pride.

“Here you go.” He plopped the coffee cup on her desk, and a huff of air burst from his mouth, ruffling a wisp at her temple.

She squinted at the steaming brew, then up at him, her baby blues all innocence and perplexity. “Thank you.”

His gut flexed. He frowned and dismissed the unsettling feeling.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

She peered at him above her thick lenses, a hint of a smile on her mouth, her fingers never missing a beat. Maybe if he focused on the dimple on her cheek, he could go through with the transaction.

“Take a moment, Ms. McLowsky.” The smell of caffeine gave him a boost, and latching onto his own mug, he shot her his killer smile.

“Sir?”

“Well…uh…” he began, words sticking in his throat. “Drink up.”

“Yes, sir.” She picked up the steaming cup, blew on the liquid and took a sip, fixing her gaze on him over the rim.

Was that a glint of amusement in her eyes?

She blinked and it was gone. “Is that it, sir?” She set the cup on the desk.

“No.” He lifted his mug to his lips, took a gulp of the black brew and scorched his tongue. He swore, a muffled sound.

She heard, and raised that well-defined eyebrow again.

“There’s a new position in the company.” He stepped closer and hitching up his jean-clad leg, propped his hip on the corner of her desk. “You’re the best match.”

“What is it?”

“A merger, of sorts.”

At thirty-three, Cade was not averse to a challenge; it was the coercion tactics his uncle still used that he abhorred. His uncle. His lifelong nemesis, whom he’d booted from the boardroom, now tossed him a curve to the tune of three million—problem was the deal included a stipulation to muzzle…er… marry him off.

Cade was under no illusions that his uncle’s offer was iced with ulterior motives, but, in no position to refuse, he had to take the bait. A pittance, but it’d swing him from the red into the black, and buy him some time. He’d expand his global holdings, complete the mega development in Cyprus, triple his profits and—his heart turned to determined stone—catch the hacker embezzling company funds.

The con was about to demolish Cade into a heap of rubble. He had to do something.

He scrubbed the stubble on his jaw, and his gaze swerved to her. He’d racked his brain for the perfect candidate, and Ms. Straitlaced, now staring up at him with half parted lips, best fit the bill—no complications.

She licked her lips, and then nipped the bottom one with her teeth.

His gut got unhinged with that strange feeling again. He yanked his gaze away from her mouth and plummeted into the ocean of her eyes. He bounced off, aimed lower and got socked in the belly. Beneath her colorless dress, her breasts rose and fell with every breath she took, and he imagined—

Get a grip, man. Oh yeah. Freud would get a big chuckle outta that.

Cade cleared his throat. “A marr—” He coughed, and forced the words out. “A marriage proposal.” A noose around his neck.

“What?” She gaped at him as though he’d gone bonkers, then her stiff discipline kicked in. “A market proposal, sir?”

“Nice try.” Somehow, he’d outmaneuver his uncle’s ploy to get him hitched, but first, he had to get his hands on the dough.

Matrimony.” He scowled. “It’d be a promotion. Higher salary … perks … company car … me.”

She laughed, but there was a nervous tingle in it. “I don’t qualify, sir.”

“Indeed, you do.” He’d checked her out and she came out squeaky clean. Lived with her cat, bicycled in Central Park on weekends, no boyfriend, a mother in Los Angeles. Her father, a former employee of the company before Cade’s takeover, unaccounted for. He curled his lip in distaste. Divorce, no doubt.

“Marry…you?!”

Heck, did she have to sound so shocked? Plenty of sophisticates would snatch at his proposal. He palmed his nape. But this business model called for specific criteria—and he was looking at her. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

“I don’t even like you.”

That cut through his thick hide and pricked his pride. He shrugged.

“You don’t have to.”

She giggled, and the sound booted him with a delicious zap.

“Strictly a business transaction.” He pointed to himself then to her.

“Mutually beneficial.”

“No, thank you.”

Aww, man, there she went barricading herself behind her prim and proper façade. He had to knock her defenses down and clinch the deal.

“Would a percentage of three million change your mind?”

“Very funny.” She shifted in her chair and resumed typing.

“Okay.” He slid off the desk. “If you change your mind—”

The phone rang.

Nina picked up the receiver and sized him up over the rim of her glasses. Sexual energy vibrated from him, a catalyst to her own. Good reason to keep her distance. “I’ll see if Mr. Sloan’s avail—”

He grabbed the phone from her so quickly, a whoosh of hot air singed the back of her hand.

“Sloan,” he barked, making the room shrink. “No way in hell.” He paced the floor, the muscles in his back contracting. A scowl creased his otherwise handsome features. It was a face that had women lining up and gossip hounds salivating after him.

A shiver shimmied up her spine.

Cade Sloan gobbled girls like her for appetizers, spat them out and moved onto the entrée. Breath whipped from her lips, and she twitched her nose. No way would she be another notch on this stud’s belt.

Nina had her life mapped out. And it did not include her sexy boss who had just propositioned her. She fiddled with her pearl earring, and her gaze strayed back to him.

“Not my type,” she murmured beneath her breath.

He heard and cocked a brow, his eyes shuttering.

Heat—his searing hot attraction – grabbed hold of her. Perspiration dampened her skin and a droplet meandered between her breasts. She pulled a tissue from the Kleenex box and dabbed her upper lip.

He was much too dangerous.

Lethal…to her.

What if he was behind her father’s disappearance? Her father was a former employee.

“I need more time.” Already having dismissed her, he glanced over her head at the New York skyline visible through the wide expanse of glass of one wall. “Three days.” Gold flecks in his eyes glittered, then he crashed the phone down, tension riddling his broad shoulders as he let out a deep breath of frustration. He strode to the door, paused, and tossed over his shoulder. “Think it over, Ms. McLowsky.”

“Why?”

“Because … er … you’ve got the stellar qualifications stipulated for the position.”

She shook her head, and a curl dared play fickle at her temple. She batted it away with the back of her hand, and resisted the temptation he dangled before her. “I’m flattered, but—”

“No flattery intended.” He laughed. It sounded like a snort and made her bristle with indignation. “Cold, hard cash. Plenty of it.” About to step across the threshold, he paused in stride, one foot firmly set on her turf, the other about to land in his office.

“How much?” Nina blushed to the roots of her hair knotted at her nape. Had she actually uttered those words? She swallowed. Okay, he was serving up a deal that didn’t cross a girl’s desk every day.

Wouldn’t hurt to get the particulars, would it? It could be her ticket out of a nine to five and enable her to open her lingerie boutique before her thirtieth birthday which was just months away. She’d achieve financial independence and go full force after the creepola who lured her father away, leaving her mother a broken heap.

Nina took a breath and shook herself from her lapse into the past. Removing her glasses, she blinked at Cade’s back, and a funny sensation fluttered in her stomach. She ignored it. Mustn’t skip lunch again.

Working through lunch and after hours afforded her time to search for answers. Now, here was the boss handing her a prime opportunity to get them. She propped her eyeglasses back on her nose. Being linked to Cade Sloan would give her access to confidential files that might give her the coup to her father’s whereabouts.

Would she dare? And if she did, could she go through with it?

Her palms grew moist, and she swiped them on her loose fitting dress.

A nervous giggle slipped between her lips. Would it be so awful, if it got her closer to her goal?

But what if you fall for him? She rolled her eyes. Not a chance in hell.

“Fifty thousand.” Cade turned, setting both feet on the floorboards, and held her gaze.

“Wha-at?” Her mind filled with possibilities before his words had her clambering to refocus.

“Fifty grand.”

“That’s pocket change.” She retorted, surprising herself. She must be dimwitted to even debate this with him. It could explode in her face. But if she sampled, he’d have to up the stakes big time. She did a quick calculation. “That’s not even two per cent of the purse.”

“Name your cut.” He circled her desk like an opponent in the ring, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. Cool spice.

A rush of air filled her lungs, and she let it hurl out in a miniature tornado. “Half the take, no sex, and I’m gone right after the ceremony.”

He eyed her like he was going for her jugular. “Sex is a non-negotiable item in this deal.” A guffaw ripped from deep in his throat. “A real marriage is the backer’s price.”

Nina grasped the mug between her hands, gulped several mouthfuls of the now lukewarm coffee and plunked it back on the coaster. The black brew sloshed the sides of the cup, but didn’t spill. She picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desktop. She hadn’t worked for Cade Sloan without learning a thing or two about savvy —make that cutthroat—business wheeling and dealing. She cleared her throat. “Fifty percent, one night of s-s-se—”

“With me.” He grinned, and from her vantage it looked like a leer.

She ignored the hit. “After the ring’s on my finger, one night with y-y-ou, and then I’m gone.”

“Hasta la vista, babe?” He winked. She nodded. She couldn’t speak.

Her heart squeezed itself into a fist. She must be nuts to engage in this deal with him. She had to find another way to fund her search…support her mother, herself, pay the PI, get answers, find her father.

“Works for me.” He rolled up his sleeves and flexed his arms.

“It does?” She let herself consider her future husband-to-be. He was well built and tanned…must be all that trekking around constructions sites. The August heat branded his brown hair with sunlight, and she wondered how soft—

She paled in comparison, being cooped indoors with the air conditioning. Add to that her frumpy clothes, chunky shoes, eyeglasses and a hairstyle that’d gone out with the wagon train, and no one would give her a second look.

A quiver of a smile brushed her mouth. Beneath her outer garments, lace and silk sheathed her curves, but that was her secret. And that’s how she liked it, how she planned it.

“Mmm,” Cade murmured, a predator cornering his prey. No sweat with this deal. He’d charm the money from her, which was technically his anyway, and then unload her.

Cade dismissed the stab of his conscience.

For her trouble, she’d be tripping along with pocketfuls of cash as per his original offer. A slight easing around his heart. She’d collect on the rings too. She’d be set to go.

You schmuck. He shrugged. He’d been called worse.

“No regrets?” he asked, wondering why he bothered to voice the query.

“I’ll let you know.” She toyed with the pencil between her fingers, not meeting his eyes.

Chuckling, he bridged the distance between them and set his coffee mug next to hers. He was back on the playing field. Rebuilding the company would save hundreds of jobs and create new ones on the home front and overseas. He had nothing to feel guilty about, did he?

He loomed over her, so close he could smell her perfume—exotic blossoms of some kind. It knocked his senses into gear. “Take a memo, Ms. McLowsky.”

She adjusted her eyeglasses and risked a peek at him from above the lenses.

He flashed her a wolfish smile. “Our merger goes into effect tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Tomorrow?” Nina plunked her hands on the computer keys, short-circuiting the flow of power and filling the screen with gibberish.

“Yep.” Cade grunted, holding her hostage with his gaze.

Nina tapped the delete button and cleared the monitor, thankful that he didn’t get a visual of the screen. She sighed, relieved, before a sliver of fear pierced her. She didn’t like that look in his eye. She should have known it by now; that cunning, ‘take no prisoners’ mentality that had launched him into the mega millions bracket virtually over night crossed over into his personal life. And now he had ensnared her.

He could get any woman he wanted, why choose her?

And why had she consented?

Couldn’t she just delete the foolish agreement she made with her boss? Surely he wouldn’t hold her to it. All she had to do was rescind—

“Not having second thoughts already?” he asked, his tone a challenge.

She jutted her chin and shook her head, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “You?”

Cade chuckled. “Not a chance.”

He had to concede to his uncle’s terms, even if it felt like a crowbar in his chest. If he didn’t play along, the international bankers would hammer locks onto his businesses. With barely enough to cut expenses next month, he’d be shoveling gravel himself at the luxury condo development in Westchester.

The idea soured in his stomach.

The sudden clanging of an alarm clock yanked him from his dark thoughts, and he scowled at his intended.

“Oops, sorry.” Nina slapped the clock quiet, and didn’t even bother looking his way. “I use the timer to pace my page count.”

“Carry on.” He circled her desk.

Cade had built his company into the billion dollar global economic force it was today virtually with his bare hands and a knack of hitting the bull’s-eye on a construction deal. To have his life’s work on the edge of destruction scoured his insides and pumped him into battle.

A distressing noise invaded his thoughts, and he refocused on Nina, slamming her coffee mug on the desk and muffling a cough with her hand.

“We-ent down the wrong way,” she wheezed, reaching for a Kleenex.

“You want some water?” He patted her back and when a crackle of electricity singed his fingers, he pulled away. Static from her dress, he concluded, but the sensation shot into his arm and spread through him.

Hot. Arousing.

He frowned. Unusual.

“No-o.” She shook her head, and a curl fell over her brow. “I’m fine, thanks.” A flick of her fingers, and she smoothed it back in place.

“Are you always so efficient?”

“Excuse me?” she murmured, her attention on the computer screen.

“Nothing,” he muttered, stepping away from her.

All this week until dawn today, he’d racked his brains for another solution to his dilemma. But this morning, he’d rolled out of bed, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips and, scrubbing his unshaven jaw raw, trudging barefoot to the kitchen of his Park Avenue penthouse, while his lack of options mocked him. Seizing the percolator from the counter, he had splashed stale coffee in a mug and taken a swig in hope of reviving his senses. Scratching his chest, he slogged to the living room, and sank on the sofa, the mug warming his palms.

A flutter in Monte Carlo or Las Vegas might dig him out if lady luck was on his side. A dim memory of his father turning a card at the gaming tables and online casinos surfaced. Cade had taken a gulp of the brew and the bitter taste grated his tongue. On a winning streak, William Sloan had strutted; but on a losing spiral—

Cade then hauled himself up and walked to the wall of window, squinting at the sun rising over the Manhattan skyline, his eyes stinging from his sleepless night. Out in New York Harbor, shrouded by early morning mist he could just about see Lady Liberty standing strong and sure. A wry twist cracked his mouth. A toss of the dice was too risky…a fool’s folly. He needed a sure hit.

A rumble erupted from deep in his chest, and he dumped half the coffee down his throat. In the distance a foghorn sounded, signaling it was time to get his butt to the office and face his creditors…and his secretary. Still he hesitated. He could sell out and liquidate his assets or refinance and cash out. But with real estate shifting from a sellers’ to a buyers’ market, he’d still be short by three million.

How had his uncle known the exact amount?

“Oh darn.” The muffled exclamation and the scraping of a chair across the floor zoomed him back to the frontlines…and to her. Ms. McLowsky had already yanked out the mangled document from the printer, inserted new paper and resumed her stiff pose at the computer.

He skimmed her head, barely noticing the highlights glinting on her hair from the sunbeam filtering through the windowpane. His gaze bounced off the graceful line of her neck to her mouth, now pursed in concentration, her fingers tapping the keys. He had to buy himself some time, even if it meant being forced to the altar with her.

The growl in his throat sounded, and Nina snapped her head up, her huge eyes mirrored through the lenses.

A pinprick to his heart, but he set his jaw and steeled every muscle in his body.

Collateral damage.

He was engaging in a battle on the global economic field to recoup his losses—little Nina McLowsky was simply collateral damage. He grunted.

“Is that part of the memo, sir?”

Snooty Ms. McLowsky? Well, well… he curved his mouth in a bemused smile. Might turn out to be the best fun he’d had in a long time.

“Very funny, Ms. McLows…er…Nina.” Her name skimmed across his tongue like Southern Comfort, smooth, hot, sensuous. “Let’s dispense with formality, shall we?” He loosened his tie. “Since we’re about to tie the knot.” He clicked his tongue. “For better or worse.”

“Worse is what I’m thinking,” she mumbled beneath her breath.

“What was that, Ms.…er…Nina?”

******

Nina sat strapped in the seat of Century Corp’s private Lear plane beside her husband and stared out the window at rain battering the runway. The summer storm had turned the day dismal, reflecting her thoughts. She twisted the gold band around her finger. Three hours. She’d been married to Cade Sloan all of three hours, and she was now about to jet across the globe for their honeymoon. She curled her fingers so tightly, her pink tipped nails bit into her palm. Moisture beaded her upper lip.

She glanced at him, slouched in his seat and snoozing like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Her temples throbbed.

When the plane taxied down the runway of John F Kennedy International Airport, she clutched the seat arms and held her breath.

The aircraft picked up speed and then they were airborne.

A sigh of relief forced its way from her tight throat, and she unclenched her hands. She lifted a stray curl off her moist brow, patted the dampness with a tissue from her purse, and crumpled it between her fingers.

Her stomach rolled.

Gulping down nausea, she leaned her head to the side and shut her eyes, but that made it worse. She opened her eyes wide and collided with the intensity of his gaze. It socked her breast, shot into her heart and scrambled her vitals. She sucked in oxygen, desperately, and he bolted upright.

“You okay?”

She nodded, and then shook her head, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Here, lie back.” He reclined the chair, placed his hand on her shoulder and eased her down. When he stretched across to adjust the light blanket over her, he accidentally bumped her breasts, sending an electrical sizzle into her body.

She held her breath. He expelled his.

The subtle mint of his breath brushed her hot cheek, alerting her senses. He stayed near for another second. It seemed endless. Her pulse skyrocketed.

Thankfully, that took her mind off the tornado in her stomach.

Then he pulled away.

Pent up air in her lungs shot forth through her lips as she sighed in relief.

“Want something to eat?”

“Ummm,” she mouthed, glaring at him.

“Bad choice of words, huh?” He curved his mouth in a half grin, a gesture that had her breath looping around her ribs. “Some water?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Guess not.”

Heck, Cade didn’t know what to do with a tipsy woman in the confines of the aircraft cabin. He squinted at Nina, and her pallor had him wanting to gather her into his arms and stroke her, to smell her subtle scent that seemed to wrap around his heart and not let go. He chuckled at his foolish musing. Get a handle, Sloan.

She’d do for a bit of wedding night bliss to seal the deal with the backer…then he’d keep his distance, avoid complications until such time as he could reasonably unload her.

“Shouldn’t imbibe on booze on an empty stomach,” he bit out. She must have overdone it with the pre-flight cocktails while he dozed; something he rarely did, but on his own cruiser, he felt he could steal a few moments of shut-eye.

She opened her mouth to give him some sass but quickly shut it tight.

“You’ll feel better by the time we get to Larnaca.” He set his jaw, knowing full well he had to go through the farce and show up there with his bride before collecting the cash.

Someone had set him up to take the fall. The sharks that he put on the case had worked out that the tip-offs came from an undisclosed location in Europe. In the meantime, he had to stack his arsenal to ensure a victory.

Cade glanced her way, and then retreated.

It’d work for him…a combo deal; business and pleasure.

He’d make sure of it.

He tossed her another look, and got booted somewhere in the vicinity of his heart for his trouble. Odd. Definitely odd. He waggled his shoulders and dismissed the feeling.

The one night with her should zip by without a hitch, and then he’d be off with Century Corp intact, pockets full and little Nina would be history.

“So, lie back and enjoy the ride Mrs…uh…Sloan,” he muttered, doing just that.

******

Nina had endured the remainder of the flight, and had actually snoozed for a couple of hours while they flew over the Atlantic Ocean.

Then before she realized it, they were descending over the Mediterranean and toward the seaside Larnaca International Airport on the island of Cyprus. The jolt of the jet’s wheels on the landing strip jostled her awake, and by the time she reoriented herself, they were disembarking.

A blast of heat had smacked her face, and she stepped back, bumping into her husband’s iron-hard chest. He took her elbow to guide her down the stairs, and shivers shot up her arm. She faltered in her step, and the strap of her sandal snapped loose.

“Steady there.” He spanned her waist, his touch an electric charge to her nervous system, and lifted her over the last three steps of the aircraft’s ladder. Just before he set her on her feet, his temple brushed hers and she glanced up, so close, she could see the brown tint of his lashes, smell. He glanced down, and she tumbled into his golden-brown gaze.

She held her breath, her heart pounding.

He shuttered his eyes, and let her go. “Okay now?”

“Mmm.” She stepped onto the tarmac and mindless of the heat penetrating the soles of her shoes, gazed at the priceless view of ocean and sky. Salt tang in the air tickled her nose. A lone seagull squawked, and she lifted her head, the evening sun still bright enough to make her squint. She heard Cade’s intake of breath as he filled his lungs with sea air, then grew quiet. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine this was real, that she and Cade—

The surf crashed upon the rocks, shattering her fantasy and the fragile connection between them.

“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist, dragging her through Customs, luggage claim and then to the limousine waiting outside the airport.

She’d managed the limo ride to Century Blue, one of his oceanfront properties in Ayia Napa, the playground of Western Europe, and the elevator ascent to the penthouse bridal suite. But by the time the bellman deposited their luggage in the foyer, accepted the generous tip from Cade and made his exit, she was a frazzled heap of nerves.

She felt it, and for sure must look it, what with her cotton shift wrinkled, her sandal flopping and her mussed hair sticking to her temples.

She flung an arm across her eyes, trying to forget her lackluster appearance—hardly the look of a glowing bride. Digging her toes beneath the cushions, she gulped down the whimper vibrating in her throat.

When Cade had shut the door behind the bellman, she started to panic.

Would he pounce? Would she let him? After all, she made a bargain…a high-end deal with the mogul of Manhattan. A hysterical sound bubbled in her chest and burst from her mouth in a muffled sound.

The sun had turned the horizon into a blaze of color, and the Mediterranean Sea into liquid gold.

“Hungry?” Cade asked, just as his cell beeped.

Relief flooded through her when the cell call had cornered his attention.

Nina gave him a wan smile and a wave of her hand, but by then, he had stepped onto the balcony. That suited her fine, giving her some breathing space to rest up and regroup. She wobbled on her feet and eyed the bed before her gaze skittered to him now in earnest conversation. She opted for the couch. Tossing her purse on one end, she kicked off her sandals and collapsed on the cushions.

A sea breeze sailed towards her from the half open balcony doors.

It was balmy, sensual and soothing.

“You can use the bathroom first,” Cade mouthed over the cell’s mouthpiece.

She shook her head. A big mistake. The vibrations shot to her toes and back up to her belly, making her stomach heave. She closed her eyes.

She heard him pacing, his words floating to her on the evening breeze and disintegrating her thoughts.

“I got her.”A muted chuckle. “By nightfall, she’ll be docked, tied and ready to ride—”

A pause.

“She’s not for sale yet.”

In the background, waves pounded the beach, a crescendo of sound in a second of stillness.

“I’ve got dibs on her maiden voyage—”

From the courtyard down below, the Bouzouki musicians tuned up for the evening entertainment, and mouthwatering aromas of souvlaki cooked over an open grill wafted to her. She grabbed her middle; she for one would not be dining under the stars tonight.

The distraction eclipsed his words and she crinkled her brow, trying to make sense of what she heard.

“A costly investment, I’ll be paying—”

Her eyes flew open wide. Me?

The fluttering of curtain allowed her glimpses of the million-dollar ocean view, but her attention was glued on her husband.

“After I break her in, you can have her—”

“How dare you—” Nina made to jump up, jostled her insides, and fell back, closing her eyes, and pressing her mouth tight. She would not be sick. Would not be sick. Not now. Not in front of him.

“—if the price is right.”

Sweat poured from her pores, soaking her wrinkled cotton dress…her wedding dress. What had she gotten herself entangled in?

“I’ll sell—”

Sell her?

“—to the highest bidder.”

She began to pant, then a whiz of sound fizzed between her teeth, and she lifted her lashes a fraction, snaring him in her focus.

Tall, dark and gorgeous…deceptive—dangerous.

Worse than she imagined. Yet, he looked so calm and cool, fresh in his white open necked shirt and denims he wore for their ‘I do’s’ compared to her—a ragged mass of guilt ridden nerves. He whisked her off so quickly after the ceremony at New York City Hall, she’d had no time to change, her one travel bag already in the trunk of the Bentley.

“By midnight she’ll be purring beneath my hands.”

His words iced her skin.

Something was wrong; something was very uncool, but she was too zoned out from the intercontinental flight, the emotional see-saw of the wedding—not what a girl dreamed of—the heat, and her queasy stomach, to figure it out.

“Yeah, I can handle her.” A guffaw. “Should be an easy ride.”

Nina seethed, a flush on her skin making her temperature rise and her ire about to explode.

“Naa.”

An ominous silence.

“If you’re willing to pay, she’ll play—”

A chuckle.

It sent shivers crawling up her spine.

“I’ll guarantee she’ll be a real fine piece of a—”

Nina’s hand flew to her throat, the other to her abdomen, her heart hammering. Dear God, what had she done? This was a snow job on her by none other than the king of con. She’d fallen for his duplicity and been fool enough to marry him. She cringed, gulping down bile rising in her throat. The acid taste curdled her stomach, and she tottered to her feet, weaving her way to the bathroom.

“Hey, you alright?”

The sounds from within must have alerted him, for he was there, knocking on the half open door. And her, with her head half in the toilet.

If the floor caved in and carried her out to sea, she’d be ever so grateful.

No such luck.

He loomed over her, a slight shift of his sneakers visible from her peripheral vision. Could it be that Mr. High and Mighty Sloan was uneasy about something? That gave her a lift, but it was short lived as another wave of nausea assaulted. She waved him back with her outstretched hand. He deserved a tongue-lashing, which she couldn’t give in her present position. She heard the sink faucet running then—

“Here.” He handed her a damp washcloth.

She mumbled her thanks and waved him out. “Go.”

Cade squinted at her bent-over figure, zeroing in on her shapely tush outlined beneath the cotton material of her dress stretched taut and riding high on her slender thighs. A beauty mark teased. He paused, and then made his exit. “Be right here if you want—”

She extended a leg and booted the door shut in his face.

The toilet flushed.

Ten minutes later, Nina stepped from the bath and shrieked, trying to cover her naked body with her hands. “What ’re you doing here?”

“Come ‘ere.” Cade held open a towel for her, his voice sounding gruffer than he intended. “Don’t want you catching cold.”

“Concern for me?” She snatched the towel from his hand and wrapped it around herself.

She must be feeling better, he mused, plunking down on the toilet lid.

“You’re an expensive investment.” There, that’d get the ball back in his court pronto. Couldn’t afford to be going soft. Better she thought him the s.o.b. the media pegged him. He curled his mouth in distaste…in the end he’d appear to be exactly that, maybe even worse, in her eyes. He shrugged, reminding himself; collateral damage.

She laughed, a dry sound that annoyed the heck outta him. He couldn’t figure out why, and Cade Sloan always had answers.

She squinted up at him. “Which you haven’t paid for yet.” She swept her glasses from the sink ledge and propped them on her nose.

“After I’ve sampled the goods—” He paused, allowing his words to tell their own story. “We’ll cash out in the morning.” He wiggled his brows. “Divvy up the loot.” He inclined his head toward a manila envelope on the coffee table, barely visible from her vantage point. “Wedding gift.” His words crackled with cynicism. “Delivered when you were in the shower. The other half will arrive tomorrow.”

“Your half or mine?”

“Very funny.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and, about to smack him with a smart retort, she keeled over. He leaped up and caught her in his arms. For a heartbeat, she struggled against him, and then eased in his embrace. She smelled fresh…of soap, shampoo and woman. Different than most women whose heavy perfumes nearly knocked him out. A chuckle threatened, and he locked it in his throat. He scooped her up and took her to bed.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, she conked out. He allowed his gaze to travel from the damp hair framing her face to her smooth shoulders, pausing at her cleavage barely visible above the towel still wrapped around her body. Skimming her thighs, he noted the slight bend to her legs on the bedding, the curve of her calf, her slim ankles, the arch of her foot, her hot pink polished toenails. She had one arm sprawled over her head and the other bent, her hand cushioning her cheek. Her golden tipped lashes brushed her cheeks and the sprinkle of freckles on her nose made his lips twitch a smile. It vanished when he focused on her mouth. Palest pink. He could imagine it tasting sweet.

He shook his head. A sex kitten if he ever saw one. And he’d seen plenty. Logistically, with his work schedule it’d been impossible to do more than enjoy the view. A heavy sigh shoved its way from his belly, and he scratched his chin with his knuckles. He had his morals…and his instincts.

He could smell a bad rap a mile off. Made it a rule to stay clear of women who showed their claws, became too possessive and made demands—who would want to change him, complicating his life.

And for that, the newshounds coined him a callous ‘love ’em ’n leave’em, s.o.b.’

A hollow sound burst from deep inside him.

Nina stirred, a moan which was almost a purr feathered from her lips.

He snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and focused on her. She’d catch a cold if she stayed in that damp towel. Gently, he removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table. Unfurling the towel from around her body, he got the breath knocked out of him before he gathered himself and pulled the covers over her body. He touched her cheek in a fleeting caress and stepped away.

He wouldn’t be sampling his high priced ‘investment’ tonight.

A series of chills grazed his nape, but he dismissed them as the effect of the night breeze drifting in from the balcony. He rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled at his foolishness, his gaze fixed on the ugly duckling turned swan in his bed.

His jaw tightened, and he felt himself harden.

He drew in a deep breath, then another, before heading for the shower.

Tomorrow night. He’d bring this deal to a close.

CHAPTER THREE

One year later…

It had taken Cade Sloan a year to the day to track down his gold-digging ex-spouse. Lil’ Nina McLowsky had conned the con. He slid his powerful length from the limo and dismissed his chauffeur’s attempt to open the door for him with a curt hand. He grimaced. Technically, she wasn’t quite his ex yet, but she’d be soon enough. Right after he collected his dues.

“Meet me here in one hour.” He glanced at the hot pink Fantasy Secrets sign splashed above the boutique’s entrance and curled his lip in a silent snarl.

“Si, Signore Sloan.” The chauffeur tipped his hat, sat back in the driver’s seat, drove past the Fountain of Neptune next to the Palazzo Vecchio, and eased his way toward Via Cassio; the limo appearing out of place amidst the Vespas, a popular mode of transport for the Florentine locals.

Cade turned to bridge the two steps to the storefront, when the door swung open, giving him a view of the shapely backside of a blonde.

A muscle jarred his jaw.

It was her. Even with hair several shades lighter, he’d know her anywhere.

“Mille grazie, Julie for locking up today.” She propped a pair of sunglasses on her crown, whirled around, her shoulder handbag swinging, and smacked into him.

“Steady there,” he muttered, grabbing her shoulders. The connection between them sizzled through his shirt and straight into his chest, but the padlock of ice around his heart made it fizzle to a vapor.

“Oops, mi scusi—” She glanced up and color drained from her face. She swayed on her stiletto heels and his hands tightened over her arms. “You?”

“Me.” The one word shot from his mouth like a bullet in the air between them.

Her coke bottle-thick glasses had disappeared. Her lashes heavy laden with mascara framed her baby blues, now on alert. Her pink-painted mouth unsmiling. He shifted his gaze lower and got a boot in the groin. Her summer dress molded her every curve—the swell of her breasts, the accent of her waist, the roundness of her hips. Her legs were bare, tanned, sexy. He smothered a grunt. Her hair was tied back with a pink ribbon, flowing down her shoulders, and he remembered how silky— No. He didn’t want to go there. Strictly out of bounds.

“We’re closed.” Nina pushed him aside, her golden hoop earrings jangling, and moved one step up to gain the extra height to look him in the eye. At five foot two, every inch counted. What she glimpsed in his golden-brown gaze knocked her back and she seized the doorjamb for support. Her pulse pounded, and she licked her lips.

He zeroed in on her mouth, and his Adam’s apple moved. A long, hot beat, and he shrugged.

“Haven’t come for your…er…services—”

The crack of her hand across his cheek made her palm vibrate, but he barely flinched, except to enclose her wrist between his iron hard fingers.

“I’ve come for you.” He coiled his lip in a near sneer. “To collect a debt owed.”

“We’re history.” She lowered her Roberto Cavalli sunglasses over her eyes and made to go past him.

“Right after you pay up, lil’ darlin’.”

“I owe you nothing.”

He yanked her hard against his chest, swooped down and stole a kiss. “That’s a hint of what you owe, in addition to the million and a half you slipped out with.” Deliberately, he removed her sunglasses and hooked them in the pocket of his shirt.

She went to snatch them back, and he leaned away from her reach.

“Uh, uh.” He clicked his tongue. “Must’ve cost a euro or two, mmm?”

Oh, but he was a horrible man. How could she have imagined she’d felt anything for him but loathing—her eyes strayed to the smattering of hair on his chest visible by his half unbuttoned shirt, and excitement grazed the fury sizzling through her. Must be the shock of seeing him again, she reasoned.

“You were going to double cross me,” she accused, shoving him back. He allowed a small space between them, but still anchored her hand with his.

He arched a thick brow. “Really.”

“I heard you plotting—” her voice broke and she turned away.

“And so you decided to double deal me first.”

Good gosh, he hadn’t even denied it. She blew a stray hair from her eye, batted an eyelash and hoped her contact lens stayed in place. Perspiration glazed her skin and made her mini dress stick to her thighs. Her heart flipped and her stomach flopped. She had to get away from him quickly.

“This is insane.” She spun around and faced him. “You paid me to marry you. I did. Now we’re done.”

“Sure thing, babe, right after you deliver on your promises.” He laughed, a hollow sound that seemed to ricochet off the terracotta roofs of the neighborhood. “Something about to love, honor—”

“I don’t owe you—”

He tilted the corner of his mouth in a smirk. “—and obey.”

She gaped at him in disbelief, and then blinked a rapid tempo. “I upheld my end of the bargain.”

“Hardly.” Cade released her hand, and shoved his in the pocket of his Armani pants, the empty feeling in his gut rankling. “You skipped out on me from the hotel in Ayia Napa before I cracked an eye open in the morning”

She gulped, and he noted the motion. He liked that and, about to cut to the chase, he paused. Her features had a pinched look about them, even though it was August, and in Florence, Italy, that came with a heat wave. He must be having this effect on her. Good. He felt a jab to his conscience, but he ignored the warning.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“Now there’s a loaded question.”

Her eyes flashed blue flame. “I’m not going to play your game.” She took a step to walk by him, and he sidestepped her, blocking her path.

“Nor I yours, madam.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “I married you and—”

Church bells rang from the campanile of the Duomo in the heart of the city, slightly off cue, but filled the air with a sweet sound.

“And?”

“And nothing,” she murmured.

“Exactly.”

A sigh struggled from deep inside her. “What is it you want, Cade?”

“You.”

She started, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “No.” Shaking her head, she stepped away from him, and that only goaded him more.

“Yes.” He advanced a step closer, and a wayward gust sent her subtle perfume his way. He balled his other hand behind his back and allowed the sensual feel to wash over him. Long ago, he promised himself to never let a woman, any woman get under his skin, and he’d done just fine until Ms. Straitlaced here landed in his life. A mirthless snort sounded from him. “And the loot you pilfered from under my nose.”

Her betrayal had hit a raw nerve…it nicked him more than he realized. He hadn’t tried to analyze why, but she’d done exactly what his mother had done, hadn’t she?

Ditched him.

At first, he had debated whether to write her Nina as a bad business investment and cut his losses, or pursue to recover all. But when an unidentified source hinted his espoused might be connected in some way with his business losses, it had him crunching nails between his molars. He was getting close to nabbing the perpetrator, but first, he had to know the truth about her.

The speed of the marriage had left a prenup in limbo, and she’d used it to her advantage. He pursed his mouth, shaking his head. When she had skipped out with the cash the day after their wedding, she cut him right in the jugular of his company’s financial hemorrhage.

Betrayal.

Even now it was still painful to think about.

“You will return every penny.” Ahh, revenge was sweet. “Plus interest.”

Nobody made a fool of Cade Sloan and got away with it. And certainly not one lil’ Nina McLowsky…Sloan. He’d had to do some quick talking when he hadn’t produced the bride, but the marriage license had given him a grace period to unveil her to the backer. Having just grazed by from the financial cyclone that had nearly whipped him into the dust, he was pumped to get the guy, but first he’d deal with her. Would she inadvertently lead him to the hacker?

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Too bad.” His words were chips of ice.

“I-I-I sunk it all in my business and—”

“Yes?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not an unreasonable man—”

She snorted, but somehow on her it came out sexy. Something that only aggravated him more.

“I suggest you think of an ulterior payment plan then.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide, suspicious. “Or?”

He shrugged, nonchalant. “You must’ve heard that this block adjacent to the Piazzale Michelangelo is due for demolition—”

“I was just on my way to the city—” Then, it dawned on her, and she paled. “You’re the one gouging this historic…”

“Condo development, rezoning, modern trends in architecture—”

“All for a buck—”

“Something you like plenty of.”

She glared at him, her lashes fluttering and betraying her inner angst.

“You care nothing about destroying people’s lives, livelihoods, landmarks--”

The Vasari Corridor connecting the Palazzo Medici to the Palazzo Vecchio, the shops on stilts along the Ponte Vecchio, the Uffizi & Academia museums boasting Michelangelos, Leonardo Di Vincis and Botticelli’s masterpieces flashed through her mind. “You’re an insensitive boor.”

Her dart zinged his heart, but he toughened his jaw, appearing exactly as she coined him. “If I don’t do it, someone else will.”

“And that makes it alright?

“Right?” he bit out. “You’re talking to me about what’s right and wrong?”

“I won’t let you do it.”

He chuckled. “I don’t see how you’re going to stop me.” A telling pause. “Unless—”

Nina squirmed, feeling like she’d been blasted back a year…back into the clutches of one Cade Sloan, the playboy of Manhattan. Except this was Florence, Italy, her turf; but even with her Italian designer shoes and haute couture armor, he still rattled her.

A sigh shot from deep inside her, and for a moment she got lost in her thoughts. In the year she’d been here, the city had welcomed her and in no time, she felt at home and part of the community. She’d been enchanted by the city and its people, their culture and their history.

The palazzos, basilicas, museums—a smile quivered on her lips—and the famous Florentine Café Giubbe Rossi in the Piazza della Repubblica where she strolled to get her mocha cappuccino, viewing the luxury brands of fashion, footwear, handbags, fragrances of Salvatore Ferragamo, Gucci, Prada, Chanel—all an inspiration to

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