King's Price
‘I see,’ I said carefully. ‘It seems an extreme move to marry Clara in order to get a few investors. You can’t refuse?’
‘No.’ The word was flat. ‘I need that bastard’s money.’ He paused. ‘It’s either that or bankruptcy.’
I stared, shocked. ‘Bankruptcy? Seriously? Dad, what did you—?’
‘That’s not important,’ he interrupted. ‘The important thing is that he’s not going to get his dirty hands on Clara.’
The implication bolted like a small pulse of electricity down my spine, reactivating old hurts, making them echo.
Of course he’d never give up his precious Clara. He’s going to sacrifice you instead, the less important one...
I ignored the thoughts. I was over that now. My older sister led a life of parties and social gatherings and shopping, all funded by Dad, but it wasn’t a life I wanted. I’d found my place in the lab and I was perfectly happy there. I didn’t need him or anyone else to validate me.
‘Yet you’re okay with him getting his dirty hands all over me,’ I commented dryly.
Dad’s gaze flickered. ‘You’re stronger than she is, Vita. You always have been. You’ll be able to handle him. She won’t.’
Ten years ago I would have lapped up his praise. Nowadays, I knew better. He wasn’t praising me—he was manipulating me.
‘You’re assuming I’m going to say yes.’
His expression hardened. ‘You are. These debts must be paid. Including yours.’
It stung, no point in pretending otherwise. He’d always blamed me for what had happened all those years ago, even though, at seventeen, I’d had no idea what I was doing. I’d thought Simon had loved me. I hadn’t known he would film himself taking my virginity and put it up on the Internet, with commentary, for his friends to laugh at.
I hadn’t known that it would go viral and that soon everyone in the entire world would see it too—including my parents. There had been a media storm and some of the charities Dad did fundraising for and who sponsored Dad’s various business activities had withdrawn their sponsorship. Our family had been shamed and embarrassed socially, and it had taken at least six months before people had moved on to the next scandal.
The damage had been done, though. Dad’s business empire had teetered on the brink of bankruptcy and it had taken years for him to drag it back.
All because I’d been a seventeen-year-old girl who’d stupidly thought she was in love.
My fault. And Dad never let me forget it.
I looked down at my hands, clasped tightly in my lap. I had no answer to that and he knew it.
‘He won’t touch you,’ Dad said when I stayed quiet. ‘All you have to do is go through with the ceremony and live in his Darling Point mansion afterwards. He won’t even be there. He’ll be leaving the country. And in six months he’ll give you a divorce.’
And once you’ve done it your debt to the family will be paid.
That at least was true. If I did this for my father he couldn’t ask anything more of me, surely? I could go back to the private life I’d built for myself. Where I was good at what I did and I was confident in myself. Where I was the one in control.
‘You’ll get to keep the house, by the way,’ Dad added.
I kept my gaze on my hands. The dark blue polish I’d painted on them was chipping at the ends where I’d bitten them, a nervous habit I was trying to break.
I didn’t need a house. I lived in a terrace apartment near the university that Dad had bought for me and I insisted on paying the mortgage. My assistant wages were meagre and I was barely able to pay that and cover my living expenses at the same time, but I didn’t want any more debts than I had already.
A house in Darling Point, though. You could sell it. Pay Dad back with the proceeds...
No. I would pay my debts myself. My way. With my own money. I wasn’t going to depend on anyone else’s, no matter how much it was.
Money was never the answer anyway, even though lots of people thought it was. People like Dad.
‘I don’t want a house,’ I said flatly. ‘And I don’t want money. What I want is my debt to be cleared and never spoken of again.’
Dad sat back in his big black leather office chair and I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in his gaze, as if he’d been expecting me to say something different. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘If you do this, consider it cleared.’
‘You’ll stop holding it over my head for good?’
He gave a sharp nod. ‘We’ll never speak of it again.’
That was something.
You’re seriously considering this?
With an effort I managed to stop myself from shifting nervously in my chair, even though fear was winding tight inside me.
No. No fear. No emotion. Marrying a stranger was nothing. Merely a business proposition or an experiment. Or even trying out a new recipe. Sometimes it worked out and sometimes it didn’t, but it was nothing to get emotional about.
Nothing I needed to care about.
‘Does he know he’ll be getting me instead?’ I curled my fingers in tight to my palm to stop from lifting them to my mouth and nibbling on the ends.
Slowly, Dad shook his head.
We both knew why that was. No self-respecting playboy would choose me when he could have Clara.
‘He’ll be angry,’ I said.
‘He’ll have to deal with it.’
Dad’s expression had hardened, making the fear inside me tighten, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.
Leon King would be angry. He thought he’d be getting curvaceous and beautiful Clara and he’d end up with...me.
Vita Hamilton. Tall and bony. No curves to speak of. Two aspirins on an ironing board. And those were the kinder things Simon had said about me in his commentary on the video. Other people had rushed in with worse comments about my thick gingery hair. My freckles. And...other things.
I shoved the memories away. My physical appearance wasn’t important and I’d been stupid to let all those comments get to me. It was my mind, my intellect that made me stand out and that, at least, I was proud of.
‘He might refuse to go ahead with it,’ I said.
‘He wants those investors, Vita.’ Dad’s expression was nothing but sure. ‘He’ll go through with it. Don’t worry about that.’
That...wasn’t exactly what I was worried about, though I wasn’t sure what I was worried about or why I was afraid.
I didn’t know Leon King so his opinion of me—if he had one at all—didn’t count. All I had to do was say the words, get the ring, live in his stupid house and then it would be done.
No big deal.
Except Leon King was newsworthy, and no doubt the media would be very interested if he suddenly turned up with a fiancée. Especially a fiancée like me.
There goes your nice quiet life.
My heart was suddenly beating fast and my palms were damp and sweaty. I gritted my teeth, reining in my flailing emotions and shoving them aside.
I needed to be cool about this. Logical. Practical. I was a scientist now, not a shamed and humiliated teenager that the entire world had seen naked.
I was stronger than that—much stronger.
There is a way out of this.
An idea opened up inside me like an elegant solution to a difficult research question, or the missing ingredient in a recipe I hadn’t managed to perfect.
Leon King wasn’t a man who’d appreciate being played the way my father was intending to play him. And he certainly wouldn’t be pleased to find out he’d be getting me, not Clara.
But what if I approached him myself and told him what my father was planning? What if I gave him a heads-up? He’d probably take one look at me, realise I was no Clara and decide he didn’t want to get married after all. There was the issue of Dad’s debts, but maybe he’d simply be happy to have Dad talk him up in return for paying those off. He didn’t need to marry me.
It might not work. Leon King was, after all, a notoriously ruthless businessman and I was simply a research assistant. But I was sure I could make him see reason. Once I explained it all logically, he’d understand.
‘Well?’ Dad said sharply. ‘Think of your sister. Are you going to do this for us or not?’
I lifted my gaze from my hands and met Dad’s. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘So, what do I need to do?’
He looked away. ‘Nothing at the moment. Just keep your head down until the big day.’
Of course I would.
After I’d let Leon King know exactly what was going on.
CHAPTER THREE
Leon
‘SHE’S NOT HERE,’ Xander said, his clear, cold voice cutting through the hard beat of the nightclub’s music.
I ignored him, looking out over the heaving crowd and trying to figure out which of the blondes on the dance floor was Clara Hamilton. It was difficult to tell since there were a lot of blondes and the dim lighting made their faces hard to recognise.
We were sitting in the VIP area of Red Door, the city’s current nightclub du jour, and pretty little Clara was supposed to be here—at least that was what Hamilton had assured me. But, as my younger brother had so eloquently pointed out, she wasn’t.
Annoying.
I’d sent Hamilton an email detailing the number of dates Clara and I were to go on, the locations and what would be expected of her in order to make this look real. And he’d sent me a response letting me know that Clara had agreed to my terms and that she’d be there for the first date, tonight, at Red Door.
But I’d been here a good hour already and there was no sign of her.
I was beginning to wonder if good old Tommy Hamilton had lied and hidden his daughter from me. If so, there would be words to be had. A great many fucking words and none of them to his liking.
Xander sat opposite me, stone-faced as usual, his dark eyes glittering as the club’s lights flashed. It wasn’t his scene—he spent most nights holed up in his office since he was a total workaholic—so I was surprised he’d decided to come with me tonight.
‘Do you have a reason for being here?’ I asked. ‘Or is it to sit around pointing out stuff I’m already aware of?’
‘I wanted to meet her.’ He didn’t look at me, too busy studying the dance floor. ‘Make sure she’s no threat to us.’
‘She’s a pretty socialite, Xan. How much threat could she possibly be?’
His gaze met mine. ‘Some women are dangerous.’
He would say that since he was currently having issues with our stepsister, Poppy. As in he hated her and she hated him.
I grinned. ‘Relax, brother. She’s my beautiful bride. Of course she’s not dangerous.’
I’d given him the run-down of my plan, along with Ajax, and both of them were on board with it, though Ajax more than Xander. Ajax liked the idea of rubbing our status in the noses of those who’d once been our enemies, while Xander didn’t much care. He was all about the money and protecting our investments.
Xander snorted and looked away, studying the dance floor again.
‘Have a drink,’ I said. ‘In fact, have two. Maybe they’ll dissolve that stick currently jammed up your ass.’
Ajax would have told me to fuck off. Xander merely ignored me, then, without a word, pushed himself up off the couch and disappeared through the crowd, heading towards the bar.
Good. I could use some time to myself to figure out what to do about Clara’s non-appearance.
I sat back on the couch, reaching for the glass of very expensive single malt I preferred and, as I did so, I caught the gaze of a woman sitting at a table near the stairs to the VIP area.
She was staring very hard at me.
Stares weren’t unusual—I got them a lot, especially from women—but I never looked back unless the woman was worth a second glance. And this one wasn’t.
Yet I found myself looking back now, unable to put my finger on why. She definitely wasn’t my type. At all. She wore a close-fitting black dress, more suited to a funeral dinner than a nightclub, that highlighted a body that was all angles and no curves. Her dark hair had been drawn back unflatteringly tight against her skull, making her plain, sharp face seem even more disapproving than it already was.
She looked like an offended nun.
Why the hell was I staring at her?
Christ, I had no idea. Maybe it was the way she was staring at me: intense, direct. No blushing and looking away like some women did, or lowering her lashes and shooting me flirtatious glances from underneath them. No come-and-get-me smiles or looking past me, pretending she hadn’t been staring.
No, she simply stared. Then she slid off her stool and headed towards the stairs to the VIP area.
Shit. She was coming up here?
Intrigued despite myself, I watched her make her way to the top of the stairs and talk to the bouncer who was guarding the area. She pointed at me as she did so, an earnest expression on her face and, sure enough, the bouncer glanced at me then headed in my direction.
Interesting. What could this woman possibly want? Other than the usual. But then there hadn’t been anything flirtatious or sexual in her gaze. No, it wasn’t sex she wanted, I was sure.
‘Mr King?’ The bouncer came to a stop in front of my table. ‘There’s a woman here who wants to talk to you. She says it’s about Clara Hamilton.’
I stilled. Looked like my evening was about to get even more interesting.
‘Send her over.’ I glanced past him to where she stood, looking in my direction. There was a crease between her brows that disappeared as the bouncer signalled to her, then she started forward without hesitation.
Keen little thing, wasn’t she?
Though, as she got closer, it soon became clear she wasn’t little. Tall. Taller even than I’d thought at first and her heels weren’t exactly high. She moved with purpose too, as if she knew exactly where she was going and why.
‘Mr King.’ She came to a stop in front of my table. ‘Thanks for seeing me.’ Without waiting for me to reply, she held out her hand. ‘I’m Vita Hamilton.’
I made no move to get up or take her hand, settling for staring at her instead.
She had dark eyes, almost as dark as Xander’s yet without the black hole effect his had. Hers were very bright, as if there were tiny stars dancing in the depths. And she didn’t smile, merely pinned me with those dark, bright eyes, her hand held out steadily.
People didn’t hold my gaze for long. They didn’t like what they saw in it, especially when I smiled.
I stared right back. And grinned.
There was a tiny flicker of response, but that was it. She didn’t look away or drop her gaze. Or her hand.
Hell, that was...intriguing.
A woman of determination, obviously.
I leaned back in my seat, raising my glass and sipping again, pointedly ignoring her hand just to be a prick.
A flash of irritation crossed her face. Again, intriguing. People were too afraid to get irritated with me. Instead, they either got embarrassed or pretended whatever I’d said or done hadn’t happened.
Vita Hamilton didn’t pretend.
‘Well.’ Her voice was clear and bright like her eyes. ‘I was only trying to be polite. You don’t have to be rude.’
Was she reprimanding me?
Holy shit, she was.
Without waiting for a reply, she dropped her hand then sat down on the seat that Xander had vacated, opposite me, leaning forward and once again pinning me with that dark, starlit stare. ‘Now,’ she said seriously. ‘Like I said, my name is Vita Hamilton and I—’
‘I heard the first time, sweetheart,’ I interrupted. ‘You don’t have to say it again.’
She bristled, her mouth thinning in annoyance. ‘I’m not your sweetheart.’
That mouth... If the rest of her was sharp and angular, that mouth was not. It was full and very red and, like a particularly juicy apple, I wanted to take a bite out of it.
Maybe I would. Later.
I lifted my gaze to hers. ‘Since you’re only here with my permission, you’re whoever I want you to be.’
She sniffed, annoyance glittering in her eyes. That was different. Fear was the usual response to me, either that or sexual hunger. But I wasn’t getting either of those from her.
How fun. I hadn’t had a prim girl to play with in a long time.
‘Whatever,’ she said, clearly uninterested in flirting or any other kind of chit-chat. ‘I’m here to talk to you about Clara. I’m her sister.’
Well, that got me.
I gave her another once-over, trying to see the resemblance. Around the mouth maybe, but that was the only thing about her similar to Clara. The rest of her... She wasn’t at all like her pretty, curvy, sexy sister.
I took another long sip of my Scotch. ‘Perhaps you could tell me where she is then? She’s supposed to be here. With me,’ I added, just in case things needed clarifying.
Little Miss Vita didn’t blink or look away, which was strange when most people sensed what was beneath the mask I wore of the handsome, charming playboy. They could sense the predator, the shark beneath the surface of the beautiful blue sea. And, whether or not they knew what I truly was, they certainly feared it.
But not this woman. She either couldn’t see or sense my true self or...she wasn’t afraid.
A bolt of something electric, like lightning, went through me, making me go very, very still.
‘I don’t know where she is,’ Vita said, holding my gaze and not even flinching. ‘You’re supposed to be marrying her, though, aren’t you?’
Was she afraid? Did she really not see me?
I smiled wider, giving her a glimpse. ‘And?’
Again, not a blink. All I got back was another flicker of irritation. ‘Well, I’m here to warn you that you’re not.’ She hesitated only a fraction. ‘My father is planning on making you marry me instead.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Vita
HE WAS LIKE a big cat about to pounce, and my heart started beating very loud and very fast in my ears.
Leon King was dangerous, that much I’d known from the moment I’d laid eyes on him. Very, very dangerous. And right now he was radiating that danger so intensely I could almost taste it.
It made me want to cower away like a frightened rabbit, but I was a professional woman of twenty-six and there was no way I was going to run so I kept staring at him instead, refusing to look away.
He was probably the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
His features were strong, with a high forehead, chiselled jaw and cheekbones to die for. His eyes were a smoky amber, framed by thick dark lashes and straight dark brows and his hair was tawny, threads of gold and caramel gleaming in the nightclub’s dim lighting. Those flashes of gold looked like someone had taken a paintbrush to him and gilded his features.
He wore a white business shirt beneath his dark blue suit and it was open at the neck, exposing golden skin. And he sat there, all sprawled and lazy like a lion sunning himself on a rock.
A predator pretending not to notice its prey, as it readied itself to lunge.
That amber gaze was on mine and the air of danger around him was so thick I could barely breathe. The primitive fight or flight response was kicking in now, urging me to run, but I ignored it.
It was simply a chemical reaction and, as a chemist, I knew all about those. The danger wasn’t real so I stayed exactly where I was, determined to show this rude asshole I wasn’t intimidated.
‘I think you’d better explain, sweetheart.’ His voice was deep and rich and vaguely hypnotic. ‘Why is your father planning a bait and switch?’
I ignored the sweetheart thing. He was only doing it to get a rise out of me, I was sure. ‘Because he doesn’t want you to marry her.’ I didn’t add the fact that it was because I was more expendable. It certainly wasn’t about me being stronger than Clara, that was for sure.
‘Uh-huh.’ Leon King’s stare was absolutely relentless and completely terrifying. The smile that curved his beautiful, sensual mouth even more so. ‘You’re telling me this, why?’
That caught me off-balance. I thought he’d be angry about it and yet... I didn’t see anger in his dark golden eyes. No, it was worse. There was nothing in his eyes at all. Absolutely nothing.
I tried to get my thoughts together. ‘I’m telling you because I thought you’d want to know. And because...’ I steeled myself ‘...I thought that if you knew, maybe you’d change your mind about this marriage business.’
‘Right.’ He said the word slowly, drawing it out. ‘This marriage business...’ Raising his glass, he took another sip of the liquid, his movements unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. ‘And why would I change my mind?’
I blinked, nonplussed and not sure what to say. ‘You wanted Clara. And instead you’ll get me.’ Surely he’d see he wasn’t exactly getting a bargain? ‘You can’t be happy with that. Anyway, I know you’re only marrying her to get what you want for your company.’ I leaned forward, keen to make him see reason. ‘Which makes it pretty simple. All you have to do is pay Dad the money you were going to and he’ll make his friends invest or whatever it is you want them to do. There’s no real need to marry her or anyone, in fact.’
‘You’re assuming that’s the only reason I wanted to marry her.’ He smiled that terrifying smile. ‘But it’s not.’
A kind of foreboding settled in my gut.
Maybe I didn’t want to know his real reason. Before I’d ventured into the city to find him I’d done a bit of research into him and his background, and what I’d found was every bit as terrifying as his smile.
His father had once run the biggest crime network in Sydney. Guns, prostitutes, drugs... You name it, Augustus King had been into it. And Leon had been part of that network, enforcing his father’s word as law. At least until he and his two brothers had taken their father down. They’d been granted immunity from prosecution—likely in return for testifying against their father—and had spent the last five years building up King Enterprises, their property development firm.
He was supposed to be going straight, but that smile of his told another story. A story I probably wouldn’t like.
‘Go on,’ he murmured when I didn’t say anything, watching me from over the rim of his glass. ‘Ask me what my other reason is.’
I wanted to refuse, but the scientist in me wouldn’t let it go. ‘Okay, so what’s your other reason, then?’
‘I don’t trust your father, sweetheart. I need an insurance policy. Something to make sure he keeps his word, if you understand me.’ He smiled yet again. I wished he’d stop doing that. ‘Clara was supposed to be my insurance policy. Sure, I would have preferred her but...’ His gaze dropped, running over me. ‘You’ll do. Yes, you’ll do very nicely indeed.’
At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. Since the sex tape crap had hit the media and I’d hidden myself away, I’d cut men out of my life for good. I’d had less than no interest in them or dating, or any kind of relationship at all in fact.
I had good working relationships with my male colleagues, but I made sure to keep them at a distance. All my colleagues. I didn’t want anyone knowing about me. I didn’t want anyone interested in me. And for ten years that had worked well.
Yet the way Leon King was looking at me, so blatantly sexual... No one had looked at me like that in a long time, if ever. But what was even worse was the sudden wave of heat that licked over my skin in response. Like I’d been caught in the backdraught of a wildfire.
It was so intense I looked away despite all my determination not to, my cheeks getting hot.
Hell. I was blushing. When was the last time that had happened?
Pretending I was studying the crowd and not avoiding his gaze, I said, ‘I don’t want to marry you. Insurance policy or not.’
‘Why not?’
The question irritated me. Was he stupid? Did he really not know?
I steeled myself yet again to meet his dark golden eyes. ‘Why do you think? I don’t even know you.’
He gave an elegant shrug. ‘So?’
‘What do you mean “so”? You’re a complete stranger.’