Excerpt

RAJ BELANGER, the richest man in the world, was in a reasonably good mood as his helicopter landed on the roof of the Diamond Club in London.

After all, the exclusive club, a sanctuary for him and other people of immense wealth, was his personal creation. Lazlo, the manager, greeted him quietly at the door and ushered him indoors to the welcome quiet of the private members’ club. The classical décor of marble columns and high ceilings matched with muted colours and the ultimate in opulent comfort was satisfying to Raj’s critical gaze. And within the refined safe harbour of the Diamond Club, there were no paparazzi or celebrity spotters. The staff were rigorously vetted and trained. Every member enjoyed a private suite and the catering and business facilities were as international as the clientele.

Encountering an appreciative appraisal from Lazlo’s female assistant manager, Raj looked away, his dark golden eyes reflecting irritation at the height, build and dark good looks that had always attracted too much attention to him. Six feet four inches tall, he was a lean, powerful, strikingly handsome man, who despised vanity. He stayed fit for the sake of his health and stamina. He believed that what was inside an individual was a great deal more important than their outer shell. Beauty faded, but without disease, intelligence survived. A former child prodigy of unequalled brilliance and a legendary entrepreneur in the fast-moving tech world, Raj had strong opinions and few people dared to argue with him.

His British lawyer, Marcus Bateman, awaited him in his private suite. A small, grey-haired man, he had an astute brain and shrewd business sense. As breakfast was set out for them, Raj made small talk because he never discussed private matters when there were potential witnesses present. Once they were alone, he broached the issue that had troubled him for longer than he would have cared to admit: the plight of his orphaned niece, Phoenix Petronella Pansy Belanger.

Four months earlier, Raj had lost his last surviving relative, his brother, Ethan. Ethan and his wife, Christabel, had died in a car crash. A cocaine-fuelled car crash. The nanny looking after their ten-month-old baby girl had immediately contacted social services, keen to hand over responsibility for her charge and find a new placement.

‘Have you changed your mind about seeking custody?’ Marcus enquired quietly.

‘No, if Christabel’s half-sister is deemed a suitable parent for the child, I have no objection,’ Raj declared levelly. ‘As a single man, I would be the wrong guardian for a little girl. The life I lead is wholly unsuited to childrearing, nor would I even know where to begin in that task.’

The older man nodded, aware that Raj had been subjected to a dysfunctional environment from when he was an infant until he was finally emancipated from that regime by his mother’s desertion of his father. Raj’s own disturbing experiences would make it almost impossible for him to relate to an ordinary child. In truth, Raj had never known what it was to be ordinary. He had been hothoused and home-schooled and had won a handful of advanced degrees from the world’s leading universities long before he became a teenager.

It was in the normal affection and social stakes that Raj had lost out most. He had been raised without warmth or friends and with parents whose sole focus had been on developing his exceptional intellect. When his mother had given birth to Ethan, however, Raj had been naïvely thrilled by the prospect of a kid brother. Protected from their father’s malign influence, Ethan had been raised with everything that Raj had been denied. He had been cuddled and encouraged, loved and praised even when he hadn’t deserved it and yet, much to Raj’s dismay and surprise, Ethan had somehow matured into an appalling failure. Had his brother been spoilt? Had the umbrella of cash provided by Raj’s wealth caused Ethan’s expectations to range too high? Had the unfair comparisons made between the two brothers cruelly damaged Ethan’s ego and backbone?

Raj had done everything within his power to support his brother as an adult, particularly after his mother’s demise. Sadly, Ethan had failed to rise to the challenge of the many opportunities he had been offered. Indeed, Ethan had proved to be weak, lazy and dishonest, although his disloyal and greedy wife, Christabel, had been the worst of the two. Raj had met his niece only once at the christening font when she had been a red-faced and screaming little bundle and he had had an accidental glimpse of her once in the hall of his brother’s home. Further meetings after that had proved problematical because neither Christabel nor Ethan had liked social occasions with young children present. The baby had been kept very much in the background of their lives and Raj suspected that she had seen more of the nanny than she had ever seen of her parents.

‘Miss Barker, the child’s aunt, has agreed to allow you to visit your niece,’ Marcus told him cheerfully. ‘I took the liberty of consulting your PA and organising an access visit for next week.’

Raj thrust his breakfast plate away and thanked him. ‘But I gather that the foolish woman is still refusing to accept any money from me?’ he murmured flatly.

‘She remains determined to raise the little girl without your financial help,’ Marcus confirmed. ‘It’s admirable in the circumstances.’

‘Irrational,’ Raj overruled impatiently. ‘I will address the issue when I meet her next week.’

‘Bear in mind that Miss Barker is not in need of money. She’s a successful artist in her own right. Arguing with her could cause resentment and make it more difficult for you to retain access to your niece. In a few months the adoption will be ratified by the court,’ Marcus warned gravely.

Raj compressed his lips. He foresaw no difficulty in dealing with Sunshine Barker. Had he believed that she bore the smallest resemblance to her late sister, Christabel, he would have felt forced to dispute her application to adopt their niece. But he had had Sunshine’s life extensively researched and she was as different from the unscrupulous and calculating Christabel as it was possible to be. She lived in a country cottage and embraced the rural life right down to the extent of foraging in the local woods for cooking supplies. She was educated, creative, bohemian, a messy blonde in Moses sandals with a string of rescue animals. But she was also well respected in her community and well liked.

Raj did not see her as a challenge.

Sunny had dropped her contact lens and she couldn’t find it, although in the process of feeling delicately over the floor and below furniture she had discovered a hairbrush and a brooch that she had thought she had lost. In frustration she fumbled for her spectacles on the nightstand by the bed but she had evidently mislaid them as well, which was unfortunate when she was virtually blind as a bat without them. They would turn up, sooner or later, she consoled herself, screening a yawn as she brushed her mane of blonde hair with the retrieved and now dusted brush.

She was tired, naturally, she was. Just yesterday she had had Pansy stay overnight for only the second time and now her niece would actually be living with her round the clock. Even so, she was still being vetted as an adoptive parent by the social services and another orgy of cleaning and tidying awaited her because, while nobody expected her to live in a perfect household, a slovenly one wouldn’t be acceptable either.

It was just unfortunate that Sunny hadn’t yet had time to complete her renovation of her late grandmother’s cottage. She had had the bathroom and kitchen gutted soon after her grandmother’s demise six months ago, but the walls still rejoiced in ancient chintzy wallpaper and her own clutter was now layered over both her mother’s and her gran’s cherished bits and pieces. She was looking forward to plain painted walls, but the original pine floors were a little cold and hard for a baby who was starting to walk, so she had put down fluffy rugs for her niece’s benefit. Eventually, she would get the house fully sorted but, right now, Pansy’s care, comfort and contentment were her main priorities.

And now this wretched insurance assessor was coming to view the barn, which had been damaged by a storm ten days earlier. She suppressed a sigh, relieved that her niece was down for her nap and that she had contrived to dress in her version of an office worker’s clothing for what she viewed as a formal meeting. It was true that the skirt was a little tight…too many bacon sandwiches when she was short of time and energy, and possibly too many chocolate treats at the railway stations she had hung around in while she was commuting back and forth to London on a daily basis to get properly acquainted with her niece at her foster home. Familiar guilt at her poor food choices trickled through her. And the long-sleeved top felt a little neat too over her bountiful bosom. Sunny much preferred loose garments in soft, misty colours like the plants she adored.

The bell went in three short hasty bursts. Three! Good to know upfront that she was about to deal with an impatient person, indifferent to the presence of pets and a baby in the household. Bear, her Great Dane–wolfhound mix, loosed a bone-chilling howl, making her grateful that she had no close neighbours. Barefoot, she sped to the door, afraid that tardiness might affect her claim.

A very tall male towered over her. She focused on a shirt button visible between the edges of a suit jacket and then a tie and was relieved that she had put on the skirt and top.

‘So, you’re…er…whatever. If you would give me just two minutes, I’ll slip on my shoes and take you round to inspect the barn…’

The shoes she had intended to wear were still in the bedroom but her trusty welly boots were by the wall and she thrust her feet into them instead. ‘These will do,’ she said with a wide smile, skimming a glance up and up…and up. ‘My goodness, you’re very tall.’

‘You are…petite,’ Raj selected with unusual tact, although he was really wondering why on earth she wanted him to inspect her barn.

He was transfixed by her because she was such a mess. Her skirt was lopsided and unbuttoned at her tiny waist, above which swelled the sort of splendid feminine bounty that Raj generally only saw in his fantasies. The ugly orange top looked like something dragged out of a charity shop and the skirt was covered with animal hair. A faint shudder of distaste slivered through him but his dark gaze stayed welded to the huge smile lighting up her face. She was gorgeous, undersized and over-endowed in curves it was true, but still undeniably gorgeous. She had the most amazing tumbling fall of long wavy golden hair and violet eyes the colour of a flower, not a person, he adjusted. Coloured contact lenses? No, she didn’t seem the type and she had yet to even look him in the face.

‘Do you have any identification?’ she asked him, something Raj had never ever been asked before.

His hair was dark, well, she was almost certain of that but he was only a blurred vision of size. He was way too tall and broad and kind of intimidating in stature. If you were the sort of woman who was intimidated by large men, that was…and she was not.

She didn’t recognise him? Raj was amazed. She had not been at the christening or the wedding. However, he had somehow assumed that she had been at the double funeral. Admittedly though, there had been a huge turnout for the funeral, and he had not met her then, probably because he had been surrounded by people too eager to speak to him and ensure that he noticed their presence and remembered their names. He should’ve made a point of meeting her that day, he castigated himself. Unfortunately, he had kept his distance from the group of Christabel’s friends, many of whom had been taking selfies and photos and generally conducting themselves as though they were attending some glitzy event, rather than a tragic interment.

Suppressing a sigh, he withdrew his passport and extended it. Sunny Barker had the tiniest fingers he had ever seen on an adult. He was hugely entertained by the whole process as she squinted uneasily down at the passport. She was irredeemably scatty, badly needing to be organised by someone. She would drive a control freak of his type insane, he reflected absently.

Sunny peered down at the passport but it was just a blur and she thought it was a very odd means of identification to show her. Hadn’t his insurance firm given him an identity card with a logo? Evidently not and that was scarcely his fault. It was not as though she were inviting him inside her home, she reminded herself soothingly.

‘Your barn?’ he prompted with rare indecision, willing to play along to be reasonable and reluctant to embarrass her, which would only increase the awkwardness of their first meeting.

‘Come this way,’ Sunny urged, squeezing out past him—really, he did take up an awful lot of doorstep space—to lead him down the path and round the corner of the house into what had once been a farmyard.

Bear gambolled along by her side, giving the visitor a very wide berth. Bert peered out and snarled from beneath a shrub they were passing. Bear backed away. Bert advanced, threat in every line of his tiny body.

‘Stop it, Bert!’ Sunny scolded. ‘You’re being a bully.’

Raj glanced in disbelief at the tiniest dog he had ever seen outside a handbag. The giant dog was terrified of the tiny one. He wondered why he was being shown the barn. He wondered why he was with this strange woman, who didn’t even recognise who he was. Did he expect everyone to know him at first glance? Sort of, he acknowledged uneasily. And Sunny Barker was his former sister-in-law’s sibling, shouldn’t she recognise him? Have taken some interest in his presence in the family tree? Even if they had never enjoyed a formal introduction?

‘So, here’s the barn. As you can see a giant branch fell on the roof and messed it up a little.’

‘More than a little,’ Raj countered, studying the poorly maintained structure, automatically foreseeing any insurance firm’s likely response to such a claim but stifling his urge to issue a warning. Instead, he viewed the very tall horse staring out at him over the stable door. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Muffy. She’s a Clydesdale,’ Sunny told him, suddenly full of animation, delighted, it seemed, by his presumed interest. ‘She was very upset about the roof tiles falling and the rain coming in.’

Raj contemplated the misnamed horse, who didn’t look as though she would stir into life for anything less than a hurricane. ‘She seems content.’

‘She’s very easy-going…but I need the roof fixed. She’s elderly,’ Sunny whispered, as if the horse might be shy about her age being bandied about in public. ‘She needs a nice dry stall.’

‘Why are you showing me your barn?’ Raj chose to ask abruptly, watching as she petted the horse, the movement drawing the top tighter over the ample swell of her breasts while he wondered why he was even looking.

Anyone would be forgiven for thinking that he was a teenager who had never seen breasts before! For goodness’ sake, he was a sophisticated male with four mistresses in different cities. He took care of his sexual needs in the same efficient way that he took care of everything else in his life. He focused on privacy and practicality. He could be in London, New York, Paris or Tokyo and he could lift the phone and visit any one of his mistresses. Reminding himself of those facts did nothing to prevent his intense gaze from sliding from the generous thrust of her breasts to the curve of her perky and curvy bottom as she bent over the door and then angled those violet eyes up to open very wide on him. Unforgettable, beautiful eyes.

‘Why are you asking me that? You’re an insurance assessor,’ Sunny told him in surprise.

‘No, I’m not. I’m Raj Belanger and your niece is also my niece and I’ve arrived on a prearranged visit to see her…’

‘You’re coming to visit next week,’ Sunny informed him with confidence. ‘Same day, pretty much the same time but definitely next week.’

‘I think you’ll find you’re incorrect in that conviction. My staff rarely make mistakes,’ Raj asserted drily just as the shaggy Great Dane bolted from behind his owner to flee behind Raj in a determined effort to escape the domineering, aggressive chihuahua.