The Dare Collection November 2018. Christy McKellen

low just before my birthday. Besides, I didn’t call to talk about me.’

      Her voice had grown soft, a sure sign that I wouldn’t like what was coming. ‘Whatever you called to tell me, let’s have it.’

      She sighed. ‘I know you haven’t opened the email. But there’s no other way to say this, my dear. Your cousin is back.’

      The sunshine beating down on my shoulders turned arctic. ‘Say that again.’

      ‘Damian is back in London.’

      ‘Did we or did we not agree I wouldn’t kill him on condition he stayed away for a bloody long time? And by a bloody long time I mean indefinitely. The last I checked indefinitely wasn’t three fucking years.’

      ‘Things were said in the heat of the moment that night, Gideon. I had to get you out of there before you two killed each other. I’m hoping cooler heads will prevail now—’

      ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath. You give me too much credit if you think I’m anywhere near as calm as you want me to be.’

      ‘You can’t avoid each other for ever,’ she snapped, her voice brusque once again. ‘And, like it or not, he’s still a member of this family.’

      ‘That’s where you’re wrong. He means less than nothing to me.’

      Aunt Flo gasped. ‘You don’t mean that.’

      Unfortunately, the pain-filled rage rippling through my chest cemented my certainty. ‘Don’t I? He betrayed me.’

      ‘I know. And I know how much loyalty means to you. But you must find a way around your feelings. He’s retaking his seat on the board at the end of the month.’

      My jaw ached from being clenched so tight. ‘The last I heard there needed to be a vote before that happened.’

      ‘There will be. I’m just telling you what the outcome will be.’

      I didn’t soften my curse.

      Aunt Flo sighed again. ‘Haven’t you both suffered enough?’

      ‘No, I don’t think he suffered nearly enough. In fact, the whole of his lifetime sounds just about the right amount of suffering.’

      She didn’t reply for a handful of seconds. ‘I hear you’re thinking of buying a boat.’

      I breathed deep, accepted the change of subject. ‘It’s a superyacht. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.’ For a moment I wondered whether Aunt Flo would like Leonora, too. Then I realised what I was thinking and stepped back from the thought.

      ‘Hmm. Maybe I’ll come and see it myself.’

      ‘Aunt Florence—’

      ‘You leased a floating palace for the better part of a month and issued an open invitation to your family. That includes me, doesn’t it?’

      ‘You know it does,’ I murmured, trying to think what her angle was.

      ‘Wonderful. I’ll let you know when to send the plane for me.’ She hung up abruptly.

      I stared down at my phone, knowing I should’ve seen this coming. Aunt Flo wouldn’t have sent the email if she hadn’t wanted to prepare me.

      Damian had balls to show his face, I had to give him that.

      My lips twisted. Wasn’t his ruthless audacity the reason we’d been so close once upon a time?

      I slid the phone into my pocket, my gaze bouncing over the horizon. Any enjoyment of the stunning blue waters or the way the sleek yacht cut through them was gone.

      With the distance of the Atlantic between us, the ashes of my relationship with Damian had been truly out of sight, out of mind. But I admitted there were times when the consequences of his actions reared its ugly head.

      I thought about him and his betrayal every time I glimpsed a deepening interest in a woman’s eyes and questioned its authenticity. Hell, I’d done that at the marina with Leonora, and repeated it less than ten minutes ago.

      Each time I left a lover’s bed with that hollowed-out feeling deep inside, I cursed him.

      Granted, with the kind of parents I’d been cursed with, trust had already been a dicey issue for me. Damian’s actions had shattered that beyond repair. Penny’s contribution had cemented that destruction and, between the two of them, they’d fucked me over well and good.

      So no, I was nowhere near ready to bury the hatchet. Unless I was burying it in the back of my cousin’s skull.

      Fresh anger riding me, I headed for my office on the lower deck but, once there, the mountain of work I’d intended to bury myself in lost its pull. Instead I found myself thinking about Leonora. The look in her eyes when I’d talked about my brother. The one that now had guilt tightening my nape.

      Bloody hell.

      She was screwing with my head, evoking emotions I’d thought had turned to dust in my broken soul.

      At least one advantage of Aunt Flo’s call was that the pressure below my waist was no longer a problem.

      That would change the moment Leonora came within touching distance. Hell, she turned me on as no woman had in a long time. Even without the benefit of the complete picture, the look in her eyes when I’d told her about my agreement lingered in my head.

      With startling clarity, I realised I wanted more of that look, wanted a change from the shallow sex and mindless pleasure-seeking.

      Sure, it had potential emotional landmine—the kind I avoided like the bloody plague—written all over it. But had I really left the landmine behind after Damian’s betrayal or had I simply been too numb to feel the detonations? I rose, prowled to the window and stared unseeing outside the porthole.

      What the hell was she doing to me?

      I should be concentrating on finding a way for Vadim to fall in line. Instead I returned to my desk, pulled up the programme that listed all The Mortimer Group’s work in progress around the world, specifically the Far East file.

      After a quick perusal, I fired off a text.

      I received a response within minutes.

      WTF? I don’t hear from you in over a year and you get in touch to criticise my work?

      I grinned at Bryce’s belligerent tone.

      The Diamond Bay’s rooftop pool should’ve been twenty metres longer. At least.

      It still won the award for the largest suspended pool in the world. And shouldn’t you be concentrating on a certain Russian who I hear is drinking our coffers dry?

      I wasn’t surprised Bryce was up to date with my stalled deal.

      It’ll be in the bag before the week’s out.

      Big talk. Want to back it up with a bet?

      A case of Macallan 1926 when I bag the deal?

      Make it more interesting. A bottle of Macallan M hand delivered by the loser.

      My fingers paused above the keyboard, a curious sensation I recognised as elation expanding in my chest. I placed the blame squarely at Leonora’s feet.

      You’re on.

      I look forward to enjoying it with the view from my rooftop pool.

      I was chuckling when the next message arrived.

      It’s good to hear from you, Gideon.

      Part of me wanted to stay pissed that Bryce had consulted with Damian on a few projects against my express wishes after Damian had relocated to New York. But then I’d never told him why I suddenly detested Damian. Bryce hadn’t taken that well.

      I sighed and typed. It’s good to be heard.

      I