Taming the Billionaire, page 1
The beast of Sabatini House is real.
And only one beauty can tame him.
When Willow Harden arrives at Tate Kingston’s island castle for her housekeeper job, she finds her temperamental boss isn’t just an enigmatic author living in self-imposed exile—he’s an attractive flesh-and-blood man. Soon she’s thinking less about her mission to uncover his family’s secrets than about being under his covers. Until an unplanned pregnancy sets them on a collision course with destiny...
Tate sensed Willow’s approach behind him, and inhaled at the press of her body against his back, as if she were bracing him for the changes ahead.
“Murdoch has been your family, even more than your blood family, for many years. It’s okay to grieve,” she said.
It had been one thing to have Murdoch leave for a while—hard to accept but doable. To know he wouldn’t be coming back, would no longer be part of Tate’s daily life… That was something for which Tate was completely unprepared.
Closing his eyes, Tate breathed deep and soaked in the heat of Willow against him. Oh-so-slowly her arms moved up his sides to anchor her against his shoulders. Almost as if they were one, braced against the world. As much as he shouldn’t want it, he couldn’t turn away from the incredible feeling of her melding with him.
When the need grew too strong, he moved toward her instead. Chest to chest. Face-to-face. His hands buried in that fiery hair. He had to have her, had to savor this incredible woman who had come into his life so unexpectedly.
Having made the decision, Tate refused to hurry. If this was the only taste of heaven he ever had, he wouldn’t rush it.
* * *
Taming the Billionaire is part of the Savannah Sisters series from Dani Wade!
Dear Reader,
There’s nothing like a colorful setting to make a story come alive! I set Taming the Billionaire off the coast of Savannah, Georgia, after visiting Tybee Island and Savannah. It’s the perfect place for Tate’s struggle with the waters that haunt his dreams.
My hero, Tate, is truly an example of enduring the tragedies that life throws at you, then learning to stand up and live again. I was inspired by his struggle to break free from the past. I hope his journey to embrace the present and future is inspiring to you, too!
I love to hear from my readers! You can email me at [email protected] or follow me on Facebook. As always, news about my releases is easiest to find through my author newsletter, which you can sign up for on my website, www.daniwade.com.
Enjoy!
Dani
Dani Wade
Taming the Billionaire
Dani Wade astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the Southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.
Books by Dani Wade
Harlequin Desire
His by Design
Reining in the Billionaire
Unbridled Billionaire
A Family for the Billionaire
Milltown Millionaires
A Bride’s Tangled Vows
The Blackstone Heir
The Renegade Returns
Expecting His Secret Heir
Savannah Sisters
Taming the Billionaire
Visit her Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com, or daniwade.com, for more titles.
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To Charles Griemsman, aka Awesome Editor… You’ve taught me a great deal over these years about writing, communication, story and self-worth. Thank you for helping me grow in confidence and style. I’m truly blessed to work with such a kind, considerate (yet constructive!) editor.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Exceprt from Savannah’s Secrets by Reese Ryan
Excerpt from Best Laid Plans by Brenda Jackson
One
Sabatini House. Finally.
Willow stared up at the imposing, impressive castle-like residence through the windshield of her car. The thunderstorm raging around it was only appropriate. A structure as mysterious and unique as Sabatini House deserved an atmospheric introduction.
Unfortunately, since the intercom hadn’t worked when she’d stopped at the gates, Willow now had to figure out how to get inside. It took concentrated effort to relax her fingers on the steering wheel.
The rain pounded her little car, at times completely obscuring the view. Willow had been fascinated with Sabatini House for several years, since she’d discovered mention of its owners, the Kingston family, in her great-grandmother’s journals. But they contained very little about its history, which had only whetted her appetite for more.
According to the rare articles she’d found about the house since then, it was said to have been built by a Spanish pirate for his lover. It featured underground caves that allowed the ocean to actually flow underneath the house to create a swimming cove. In her journal, Willow’s great-grandmother had described the cave from her one and only time sneaking into a party in the house, declaring it a truly magical tie between the land and the sea. As a descendant of pirates herself, that would be something her great-grandmother would have appreciated.
From the outside it still looked like a magnificent castle, with turrets and peaks and arched windows. But Willow was dying for a glimpse of the inside. She hadn’t been able to find any photos or documentation in her research. The current reclusive owner had never allowed anyone else inside besides his caretaker, Murdoch Evans, and the occasional trusted workman.
Until today.
Taking a deep breath, Willow pulled her raincoat around her as best she could. There wasn’t any point feeling wimpy about the rain. She needed to get inside. The sooner she settled in, the sooner she could start looking for clues. As much as the house fascinated her, the secrets it held were what truly drew her here. Secrets about the Kingstons, and one fateful night generations ago, that could change her own history forever.
Her umbrella would be useless in the strong winds blowing off the water. On the count of three, she jumped out of her car and ran for the side door where Murdoch had told her to enter.
With Murdoch gone to Florida to visit his daughter after she’d had a baby, there was no one to cook and clean for the current resident of Sabatini House. She and Murdoch had gotten to know each other well in the year she’d been pestering him for information about the house. When he’d known he was leaving for the summer, he’d hired her to come in on her summer break from teaching at the local college to take care of the place.
Hiring on without even meeting her employer hadn’t seemed that odd at the time. Right about now she was second-guessing that choice.
She’d been due to arrive midafternoon today, but the thunderstorm had blown in early. Packing and driving had become a complicated mess. Living in required she take quite a bit with her, even if she’d be going home to visit on Sundays. Loading the car in the rain had left her and her luggage soggy.
The island would normally have been about a forty-five minute drive from the house where she lived with her sisters in Savannah. Instead she’d been struggling with poor visibility and winds rocking the car for a good hour and a half. So she was now arriving after dark with no warning, since the weather had knocked out the power and phone lines on the island, preventing her from letting her new employer know of the delay.
The rain pelted her with angry pellets as she ran. The flashlight in her hand was her only guide. Reaching the small covered porch was a relief, although not much of one. She fumbled for the key Murdoch had given her.
Excitement shimmered in her belly, even as the effort to get inside exhausted her. She was about to walk into Sabatini House...and hopefully discover all of the mysteries it held.
She knocked hard as she inserted the key and turned it, eager to get out of the rain blowing in under the small porch awning overhead. Giving her new boss a heart attack wasn’t on her agenda, but the heavy streaks of lightning splitting the sky didn’t encourage her to linger. Fumbling with the keys, flashlight and doorknob, she finally got herself inside and out of the blowing rain. Conscious of the unlit alarm keypad on the wall to her right, she allowed herself to lean back against the now-closed door for only a brief moment. Her heart raced.
“Hello? Mr. Kingston?” she yelled.
Considering the constant barrage of thunder and rain, the odds of him hearing her were slim unless he was close by. She hated to burst in like this, but what other choice had she had? Th
But that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach told her to find him quickly, announce her presence, and make sure he was safe and sound. The fact that he was out here by himself only woke her curiosity. As she tiptoed through the empty room, she wondered where his family was and why he was all alone, even though that was absolutely none of her business.
“Mr. Kingston? It’s Willow, your new housekeeper.”
Her voice seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness and rain, though the sounds from the storm were muted in this part of the house. The flashlight illuminated the path out of the mudroom where she stood. Thank goodness she’d grabbed a good, sturdy one on her way to the car.
Even inside, the smell of the ocean permeated the air. It mixed with the rain, salty and wet with a slight undertone of some kind of flowers.
She dripped on the tile floor as she made her way through a modernized kitchen, narrow and long like an oversize galley with all the amenities. Murdoch had mentioned the kitchen had been updated about five years ago.
Lightning flashed outside, brightening the entire room through the long row of arched windows along one side. Willow winced, trying to concentrate on her surroundings so she didn’t get spooked. Sweeping the flashlight around, she noticed more arches. Every doorway, every window. Some were outlined in brick. Some plaster. Hopefully cleaning the windows wasn’t her purview, because there seemed to be a lot of them.
Determining that the room was empty, Willow pushed forward through the kitchen and found a wide hallway at the other end. The whole time she called for Mr. Kingston. The darkness, as well as the thought that he had no idea she was in his house, left her with antsy feet and a churning stomach. And she was increasingly uncomfortable not knowing he was okay.
Hopefully he would forgive her intrusion. Murdoch hadn’t said anything about her boss being incapacitated, but in a storm like this anything could happen. A fall. A bad cut. A concussion. All alone, he could lie on the floor injured for hours with no help. He could bleed to death. And there was no way to contact the outside world because the landline was down.
She cautiously made her way down the wide hallway. Everything here was built on a majestic scale. She flicked the beam of light over the various rooms as she went, checking for Mr. Kingston.
Most of the doors were open, some of them revealing empty spaces. Other rooms held furniture covered in sheets. Only a formal living room boasted carefully placed antique furniture, but it still lacked a lived-in look.
If she hadn’t known better, and the kitchen hadn’t appeared to have been recently used, Willow would have suspected the house was unoccupied. Empty of all life. But she knew Mr. Kingston had to be here somewhere.
Her uneasy feeling grew until Willow’s stomach cramped. Yes, the house was huge. Three stories that she knew of, though the turrets suggested more. Still, what more could she do to be heard? The storm seemed to absorb her calls and footsteps.
The hallway finally opened into a large, two-story rotunda-style room centered on an incredible staircase leading upward. The sound of the storm outside now resounded in her ears. The staircase drew her eye as far up as she could see in the darkness. No lights shone on the upper floors, offering no clues as to where her employer might be.
“Mr. Kingston?” she called again, her voice suddenly echoing loudly back from the walls. Guilt snaked through her. Even though she needed him to hear her to answer, it felt wrong to yell in a house that wasn’t her own.
A noise, like something small had fallen, barely reached her across the rotunda. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
No response. Only the sound of the rain beating at the house.
Willow swung the flashlight around in a circle, taking note of the numerous doors leading off this room and on the upper floors. A strong sense of uncertainty crept over her. She had no idea where to look, and no idea which direction to go. With this many rooms, she could look all night and possibly never find this man.
Had she made a mistake coming here so late?
Her excitement at finally being inside the house had now given way to more uncertainty, mixed with rapidly rising fear.
A metallic rattle came from the hallway opposite her, ramping her pulse to high speed. Was that a normal noise for the house? She had no idea. Her light reflected back from the ocean-blue tile outlining the bottom of the plaster walls. She took a tentative step forward, struggling to think logically.
The bedrooms were probably upstairs. She’d start on the second floor. He would most likely be there. If she could just find some light. Surely, given how often the power went out on the islands, he would be well equipped with lanterns.
Or a generator. Though if he’d already gone to bed, he might not have bothered starting it. She couldn’t remember if Murdoch had mentioned one in his instructions.
Her wet tennis shoes squeaked on the tile as she made her way to the bottom of the staircase. Reaching out, she grasped the wooden balustrade. Her light trailed upward, showcasing the stairs’ brilliant blue tiles with a mother-of-pearl glaze. The silver filigree in the blond wooden rail looked delicate but remained firm in her grip. As her light reached the next floor, she caught a shadow move out of the corner of her eye.
Startled, Willow dropped the flashlight from her hand. The clatter echoed through the massive room.
“Hello?” She tried to project her voice, but fear made it tiny. She almost couldn’t hear it herself over the rain and rumble of thunder.
Just as she bent forward for the light, a strong arm snaked around her neck, forcing her back against a hard wall of muscle and heat that she recognized as human...and huge.
The size and strength of her attacker told her it had to be a man, but she was too busy trying not to wet her pants to figure out more than that.
The arm around her neck tightened, almost cutting off her air. Then she felt the man’s face near hers, his breath harsh in her ear. “Want to explain what you’re doing in my house?”
* * *
Tate Kingston felt a surge of adrenaline like he hadn’t felt in years.
He’d thought there was a burglar. When he first heard the sounds, he knew they didn’t belong in the house where he’d lived his entire life. His brain had automatically drifted down dark alleys with nefarious characters. Not surprising for a horror fiction author.
Then again, he’d never experienced an intruder in this house. Just to be sure, he’d slowly made his way down the back stairs. Spying what he thought was a young man, he stalked him as he came into the center rotunda. A teenager, he’d thought. Maybe someone who’d been dared to sneak inside Sabatini House, the place of legends.
Instead, Tate found a woman pressed against him in his tight grip.
She came only to the hollow of his throat, even though she had to be taller than average. She froze in fear. Not that he blamed her. He’d be scared stiff, too, if he’d just broken into what he assumed to be an empty house.
Only this one was occupied.
He pressed his forearm down against her collarbone, careful to avoid the more fragile area of her neck. Though his knowledge of this hold was completely cerebral, he wanted to instill simple fear. Not find himself with a lawsuit on his hands.
“I asked you a question,” he said, letting his voice drop even deeper. He carefully emphasized every word. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Your house?” she squeaked, trying to get her words out even though he could tell she was short of breath. From fear? Good. When she walked back out that door, he didn’t want her or her friends to even think about coming back here.
“What are you talking about?” she gasped.
He loosened his hold, giving the impression of leniency even though he had no intention of giving in to whatever she wanted. But if he wanted answers, he needed her to talk. “How about you answer the questions?” he demanded. “Who are you?”
