The Billionaire's Ruthless Revenge Read online

  “She left you ...”

  “I remember.” His gaze was sharpened by determination.

  “You’re playing with fire,” Luc warned.

  And perhaps he was. But where Annie was concerned, Kyle was as happy to get burned as ever.

  * * *

  Two years earlier

  Annie’s sides were hurting from laughing. “You can’t just order everything off the menu,” she wiped her eyes and shook her head, the butterflies she’d been feeling all afternoon now pleasurably converted into whirlpools of amusement.

  “Why not?” He shrugged. “You don’t know what you want, and I’m starving.”

  “Because it’s wasteful,” she pointed out, crossing her legs beneath the table. Her foot brushed against his calf as she did so. It was a completely accidental contact but it sent waves of desire crashing over her. She sobered slightly and shook her head. “Honestly, I’ll be happy with anything.”

  He lifted a brow. “And everything?”

  “No!” She reached across the crisp white cloth and put a hand on his. “This was supposed to be a simple dinner to thank you for all your help with my brother.” Her eyes clouded at the brief mention of Adam.

  “Your brother has nothing to do with why I asked you to dinner,” he clarified, lifting his glass of wine and sipping it while his eyes rested on her face.

  Annie’s heart clicked in her chest. His face was the most exquisite thing she’d ever seen, and even more so when he smiled. The powerful Kyle Anderson was a legend. The kind of man mere mortals didn’t approach, far less enjoy dinner opposite as though they were old friends.

  And yet he’d been nothing like she’d expected. From the moment she’d screwed her courage into a tight ball and gone to see him, to throw herself on his mercy and beg for his help and understanding, she’d been surprised again and again.

  He wasn’t intimidating. At least, not in the ways she’d expected.

  He’d listened to her story, his eyes flashing with intelligent comprehension as he’d asked question after question until he had grasped fully the mess Adam was in. And then he’d simply promised he would help.

  Annie shifted a little, running a finger around the rim of her water glass. “Nonetheless, I am so grateful.”

  “You have nothing to thank me for,” he promised, his voice husky. “I would do what I did ten times over to be rewarded with the happiness in your face.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I promise you won’t need to. I think Adam’s probably learned his lesson. At least, I hope he has.”

  Kyle doubted it, but he kept the cynical condemnation to himself. “You must care for him a great deal to go into bat for him like this.”

  She shrugged. “He’s my twin. Do you have brothers? Sisters?”

  His eyes were contemplative. “I never knew my biological family,” he said simply, but it wasn’t a simple statement. It sparked myriad questions for Annie and she couldn’t decide which to pose first.

  “You were adopted?”

  “No.”

  “Fostered?”

  He dipped his head forward. “I don’t talk about my childhood. I’m sorry.”

  Both the apology and declaration felt forced. Somehow, instinct kicked in and Annie just knew she shouldn’t let it drop. “Did you grow up in New York?”

  He arched a brow at her persistence. “No.”

  “Where then?”

  He reached across and laced his fingers through hers. “Many places. And you? London?”

  She nodded. “So you’ve moved around a bit?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t talk about my childhood because it’s in my past.”

  “Your past is part of you.”

  “As is yours.”

  Her smile was bewitching. Kyle felt something completely foreign sweep through his chest; a force so powerful he almost gasped at it.

  “You might be able to put most people off with that tough-guy façade but not me.”

  His laugh was a soft rumble that sent electric shocks firing through her system. “What makes you think it’s a façade?”

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, her eyes roaming his face as though she was looking for a clue in his features. “I just get a sense about you.”

  “And what’s that sense?” He prompted curiously.

  She shivered. “I think I’m meant to ask you these questions. And that deep down you want to answer them. And I think that maybe you’re a bit scared by that because you don’t usually feel inclined to open up to people you’ve just met.”

  “But you’re different,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers with a flash of understanding.

  “And you’re different,” she nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

  They stared at one another in silence, yet they were communicating. The air around them seemed to pulse and hum with perception. Finally, he stroked a thumb across her hand and smiled tightly. “I had twenty two foster homes in sixteen years.”

  Annie was careful not to react with the sympathy that came as an innate response to his statement. He didn’t want her sympathy or pity. It was enough that he was telling his story.

  “I was never welcome anywhere for long.” He cleared his throat. “I was that kind of kid.”

  She shook her head slightly. “Somehow I suspect that has more to do with the homes you were in rather than who you were.”

  His smile was forced. “I was difficult.”

  “So? Aren’t most kids?”

  He nodded. “Perhaps.”

  “What was it like to be moved around so much?”

  “Better than staying put,” he said quickly, his expression shifting with darkness at the memories that were trying to break free from the recesses of his brain.

  “Did you have any homes where you felt ... at home?”

  “No. Some more than others, but that’s not saying much.”

  “It must have been very hard not to have a strong role model, or someone you felt you could trust.”

  He weighed her words carefully in his mind, wondering at his desire to answer with complete honesty. “I had a teacher. Only for a few months, mind you, because I was never at a school for very long either. Occupational hazard of being moved from home to home.”

  She clucked sadly. “Starting school once was hard enough. I can’t imagine having to do it several times.”

  He nodded. “You learn not to give a rat’s ass what people say about you.”

  “I’ll bet. Kids can be such arseholes.”

  He laughed at the word coming from someone like Annie, for she was sweet and kind and softly well-spoken.

  “Who was this teacher?”

  “Greg Oliver.”

  “What grade were you?”

  “I don’t even remember now. I must have been fifteen though, because he was the one who suggested I could emancipate myself when I turned sixteen.”

  “You could what? What do you mean?”

  “I petitioned the courts to release me from the foster system. They did it in a heartbeat. I don’t think they knew what to do with me, or kids like me. No one wanted me in the end. I was going to the foster parents who said they could ‘manage’ hard-cases.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He ground his teeth together. “Their systems of management were not ideal,” he said with a shrug.

  “God, I hate to think.” She turned her hand over to capture his and then she lifted it to her lips and pressed a kiss against the fingers. It was a strange intimacy given that they were on their first date and hadn’t even kissed yet, but it felt completely appropriate.

  “That’s my past.”

  “Not even close,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “So you were emancipated. And then what?”

  “And then I got a scholarship to college.”

  “At sixteen?”

  He lifted his lips sardonically. “One of the benefits of being big for my age and moving around so much was that no one bothered to keep tr
ack of my transcripts. I accelerated myself two grades to graduate at sixteen.”

  “Jeez,” she shook her head, impressed beyond words at the way he’d managed a situation that was so far from picture-perfect. “I think you’re amazing.”

  He laughed at the sweet pronouncement and shook his head. “And you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” Where had she been? How had there been someone like Annie Smith in this world and why hadn’t he found her before now?

  Her eyes sparkled with surprise and pleasure. “Of all the gin joints in the world, my brother had to choose to steal from you.”

  The situation with Adam shouldn’t have been funny, but they both found themselves laughing.

  “You know now that my childhood was not idyllic. I don’t have the same black-and-white outlook on matters of theft as you might expect.”

  She swallowed, trying to carefully frame her words. “That does surprise me.”

  “Oh?”

  She nodded. “You strike me as someone who would have an inflexible barometer of morality.”

  His laugh was short. “For myself, perhaps.”

  “But not for others? What kind of excuse can you make for Adam?”

  “None,” he answered swiftly. “Mainly because you’ve already made them all for him.”

  Her smile was weak.

  “I judge him not for the crime but for the way it affected you.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink and Kyle stared. He was familiar with dating and flirting. He always had a woman in his life, though usually their involvement in his life was limited to his bed. But Annie was different. The way she made him feel was different. It was all new, and he felt like a giddy kid.

  “Adam’s always been an egomaniac,” she said softly, her lips curling around the admission in a way that made Kyle want to reach forward and brush them with his thumb.

  “Unlike you,” Kyle surmised accurately.

  “For twins, we’re chalk and cheese.”

  “Could it be that you shaped yourself around what he needed you to be?”

  Her eyes narrowed at his astute observation.

  “Twenty two foster homes; you learn a thing or two about people.”

  She nodded, sipping her wine to buy for time. “He’s not a bad guy. I love him. He’s my brother. What choice do I have?”

  For Kyle, it was an unusual question. He had seen siblings interact before, and he’d witnessed this kind of loyalty and protectionism too. Having never been on the receiving end of it, however, he had no personal experience as to how it must feel to receive such foolish loyalty. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re not doing him any favours by cleaning up his mess?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled unevenly. “But I had to at least try.”

  “I’m glad you did,” he said after a beat too long.

  “You are?”

  “Not because I care what happens to Adam particularly.”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest, her blood pounded through her body. “Then I’m glad you intervened on his behalf.”

  “We both know my reasons had nothing to do with him.” He lifted a hand and ran a finger over her cheek. She sucked in a deep breath at the surprise contact.

  “No?”

  “No.” He shook his head slowly from side to side just once, to underscore the word he’d uttered. “Are your parents alive?”

  The question came out of nowhere and Annie blinked at the lightning fast conversation change. She would come to understand that such swift shifts in questioning were a hallmark of the man whose brain was never quiet.

  “Yeah,” she smiled thinking of her mother and father. “They’re in London, waiting impatiently for us to come home.”

  A muscle jerked in his cheek. “Is that something you want?”

  “To move back to London?” She shrugged. “I came for a year. It was Adam’s idea. But we’ve been here two and I haven’t ... we haven’t ... talked about moving back yet.”

  “Good.” He nodded, as though that matter had been resolved with finality.

  “It is?”

  His smile sent arrows of sensual need harpooning through her body. Desire was a current and she was completely at its mercy.

  “Yes, Annie Smith, for me it’s very good news.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Was that really her?

  Annie looked at the framed photograph on his desk with a strange out-of-body sensation. It had been taken on their honeymoon in Aspen. She had been laughing because he’d almost fallen over, and one of the hotel staff had snapped the picture without either of their knowledge.

  She looked so happy in it. Annie reached a finger out and touched the photo, wondering absentmindedly how she could get back to that. How could she feel that happiness again?

  The answer, of course, was that she wouldn’t. Never again would she have that same joyous optimism in life. In that moment she’d believed in fairy tales and ‘happily ever after’.

  The sound of the door pushing inwards caused her to startle guilty and step hurriedly back from his desk. He saw the betraying gesture and frowned.

  “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “I know that,” she responded tautly.

  “Yet you look like you’re about to have a heart attack,” he observed, pushing the door closed quietly behind himself.

  She felt like it, too. “Is everything okay?”

  He frowned in confusion.

  “Your meeting,” she prompted.

  “Oh.” His nod was dismissive. “It’s fine.” He crossed the room, coming to stand directly in front of her. It was too close. Her senses were screaming at her, her body was shouting at her to move nearer, to lean against him, her heart was hammering against her chest, as though it could beat loudly enough to sync in with his once more.

  She breathed deeply and fixed her enormous violet eyes to his face. “Adam’s been stealing. I don’t know for sure. I have no proof. But he’s getting a heap of money from somewhere and I’m almost positive it must be something to do with his work.” Her eyes latched to his for a long beat. “With you.” She shook her head with just-suppressed annoyance. “I can’t believe it, Kyle. I just can’t believe he’d be this stupid.”

  “Can’t you?” Kyle responded. She was so slim. Even her face had lost weight; it was bordering-on gaunt. “Where are you living?” The question blurted out of him without his consent.

  He saw the flash of surprise in her eyes and understood it; the question didn’t belong. It was a stray bullet. “Near my old place,” she said evasively.

  “Soho?”

  She seemed to be weighing her options for a brief moment, before shaking her head. “The Village.”

  He was exasperated. “Where in The Village?”

  “It ...” she dropped her eyes to focus on the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Like hell it doesn’t. He bit back the acerbic rejoinder and honed in on her original statement. “Why do you suspect your brother of this?”

  “I was at his house the other day. I saw a bank statement.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “I found a bank statement. He’s been buying stuff in the last fortnight. Expensive stuff. Stuff they usually wouldn’t be able to afford...”

  “So you raided his mail.”

  She glared at him. “You know very well why I did.”

  He laughed, though it wasn’t remotely amusing. “Yeah. Because he stole ten grand from me in his first month on the job.”

  “It was an accident,” she said softly. “Or maybe it wasn’t. God, Kyle, what am I going to do?”

  “You? Why? What has any of this got to do with you?”

  She sat down softly, easing herself into his big chair, and curled her legs up beneath her.

  She had sat like that often, and he’d always found it ... adorable. Now, he found it concerning. Her diminished size was affecting him in the strangest way. “Jesus, Annabelle, have you been eating?”

  “Huh?” She lifted a hand and toyed with her neck
lace.

  “You look like you’ve narrowly survived a famine.”

  “Why, thanks,” she bit sarcastically, feeling as unattractive as she always feared she would become to him.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You were never skinny like this. What’s happened?”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped. Her meaning was clear. Back off. Leave me alone and focus on my brother.

  “You are not fine,” he replied, ignoring the silent warning.

  “He doesn’t need money,” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken, her eyes trained on a point in the distance. “We both know his salary is excellent. It’s a compulsion with him. He can’t help himself.” A sob escaped her. “Kyle, you know about this already, don’t you?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as he studied her. Annie had the strangest sensation that she was some kind of bug to him, existing in the screen of his microscopic glare.

  “I know he’s a dishonest, unscrupulous son of a bitch. I know that if he wasn’t your twin I’d have fired him two years ago.” He leaned closer to her, bringing his face within an inch of hers. “I know that I’d have called the police two weeks ago and had him arrested, if he weren’t your brother.”

  Another cry poured from her lips. She shook her head resolutely. “Please don’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I don’t know why he does this. But he doesn’t deserve to go to prison.”

  “It is exactly what he deserves,” Kyle contradicted with iron-like determination.

  “He’s not a common thief.” It was a plea, as though somehow the differentiation might make a difference to him.

  “You’re right. He’s anything but common. He’s a genius. He’s a criminal mastermind.”

  “Evidently not,” she pointed out swiftly, chewing her lower lip so vigorously that Kyle couldn’t help but stare at the gesture. “You discovered his crimes – twice.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I’m one step ahead of him then.” He let out an angry sigh. “You can’t keep fighting his fights.”

  “I’m not.” She stared at Kyle, torn between a desire to placate him and an angry need to force him to understand. “I’m just speaking on his behalf to the only person who can make a difference. To someone I suppose I think I still have some ... influence with.” She cleared her throat. “Though perhaps not as much as I need.”