Vengeful Love
Authors: Laura Carter
Vengeful Love
By Laura Carter
He’s a devastatingly handsome, filthy-rich CEO. She’s a high-flying London lawyer. All it takes is one boardroom pitch. One hostile takeover.
Vengeful Love
is darkly suspenseful, sinfully sexy white-collar romance at its very best.
I’ve always walked the straight and narrow—following the rules, never straying from my chosen path.
Until Mr. Sexy
Bazillionaire
CEO Gregory Ryans walked into my life. It was only supposed to be business, but one brush of his wicked lips against my skin changed everything.
I can’t deny what this man inspires in me. I’ll do anything he asks…even help destroy the enemies from his past.
But he’s hiding more than he’s telling me.
When our love leads to tragedy, there’s no going back. Gregory’s past is trying to kill our future.
They say love can bring a person to their knees.
I’ve just proven that vengeful love is the strongest force of all.
Book One of Vengeful Love
Edited by Kerri Buckley
Dear Reader,
You know that moment when you’re reading a great book and you hit around the 70 percent mark and you realize:
this book is going to end
. And then you’ll be done with it. And will have to leave the characters behind. And find another (hopefully equally amazing) book to read next? So you want to slow down but instead you speed up because you just have to know what happens. The next thing you know, it’s done, you’ve got that happy-book-sigh feeling and…now you really do have to decide what book to read next. The great thing about reading is that there
is
always another fantastic book available, and I think you’ll find a few that will help with this issue in this month’s releases, because they are awesome!
Shannon Stacey is one of our most popular authors and her Boston Fire trilogy has not disappointed readers (or her editor)! But I’m particularly excited about
Fully Ignited
because it brings us not only the alpha men of Boston Fire but also a badass female firefighter who is unapologetically good at her job. I love a strong, confident heroine who makes no excuses for who she is, and that’s what we get with Jamie. Scott can’t stop thinking about Jamie, despite the fact that she’s his temporary superior and not sticking around. Chemistry can crush the best-laid plans, though, and while Jamie and Scott might not be each other’s future…there’s no resisting the right now.
Laura Carter debuts with a darkly suspenseful, erotically charged Vengeful Love trilogy that’s a return to the glamorous, jet-setter romances of Jackie Collins and Sidney Sheldon. In book one London city lawyer Scarlett Heath’s neat little world is shattered when she meets Gregory Ryans, the mysterious, irresistible CEO of GJR Enterprises—and her new client. Too late, Scarlett realizes the truth about the hostile takeover she’s been brought in to handle: the man she’s fallen in love with is out for revenge. And he’s taking her with him. Gregory and Scarlett’s story continues across Rome and Dubai in the next two installments releasing in April and May.
A.R. Barley is debuting in male/male contemporary romance with
Out of Bounds
. A line of tape down the center of the room is the perfect plan: boundaries established for college sophomore Jesse Cole and his sexy new roommate, senior Nick Moretti. These two strong-willed men are as opposite as opposite can get. But as their initial friction moves into straight-up dirty talk, who wouldn’t want to cross the line?
Also in male/male contemporary romance, j. leigh bailey’s heroes
Fight to Forgive
as they face family manipulation, past betrayal and an uncertain future to find their second chance at love. Perfect for those of you who love the second-chance trope!
We have two erotic paranormal romances for you this month on two ends of the paranormal spectrum: vampires and shifters! In Dee Carney’s
Hunger Untamed
, a beautiful courtesan must overcome her fear of a beastly vampire mercenary if she’s to avenge her sister’s death. And on the shifter side Laurent, the second-in-command for the Cherchez Wolf Pack, didn’t expect to find his destiny in a roadside café. But there’s no doubt in his mind that waitress-by-day, artist-by-night Rain is his mate. And the urge to be near her, to protect her, to
have
her, is intoxicating. Don’t miss
Sworn to the Wolf
by Lauren Dane.
Speaking of erotic, check out the beautiful cover on Kira A. Gold’s
The Dirty Secret
, and while you’re there, peek inside the covers to find out what happens when an architect with a dirty mouth and a secretive, sensual painter are thrown together and challenged to decorate a house. The real challenge is figuring out how to complete the project while taking every opportunity to discover what’s under each other’s clothes—and behind one another’s personal walls.
This month’s mystery offering comes from Julie Anne Lindsey. In
A Geek Girl’s Guide to Arsenic
, the resident geek girl puts her high IQ to work uncovering the killer when a man is poisoned at Ye Ole Madrigal Craft Faire. Don’t miss the previous title in this series,
A Geek Girl’s Guide to Murder
.
Pick up one (or all) of these new releases this month and let us help you solve your book crisis. Giving Readers Their Next Good Book Fix can become our new imprint motto!
Coming next month: a sexy and captivating (literally) romance from Amber Bardan,
Vengeful Love: Deception
with its continuation of Gregory and Scarlett’s story, and a new author makes her debut!
As always, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Contents
Chapter One
Gusting wind pushes me through the revolving glass door into one of London’s glossiest high-rise buildings and the home of Saunders, Taylor and Chamberlain LLP,
my firm. Shaking my head and running a hand through my now-tatted long brown hair, I ride the lift to the tenth floor. Removing my coat somewhat awkwardly whilst holding my laptop case and handbag, I step out onto the grey carpet of the glass and chrome-lined corridor.
“Good morning, Miss Heath, erm, Scarlett.” I smile back at my new secretary as she flashes her blinding white teeth and adjusts the tortoise shell glasses on the end of her nose; they’re secured around her neck with a delicate gold chain.
“Good morning, Margaret. It’s horrid out there. Would you take this for me please?” I ask, handing her my black knee-length mac.
“Of course. Would you like coffee?” she asks as I make my way along the corridor to my office.
“Please. You’d better get one for Jack too. We have a nine-thirty in his office.”
“I’ll bring them through.”
I dump my bags on my desk, set my laptop in its dock then hit the switch to light up my computer screen.
“Oh, and Margaret,” I call, popping my head around the office door, “thank you.”
Crossing one leg over the other, I perch myself in my desk chair and wait for Outlook to load, casting my eyes around what’s my humble abode for seventy hours a week, give or take. It’s a small office but more than big enough for one. Most lawyers below partner level have to share but my previous roomie fell pregnant. In a firm like Saunders,
you get pregnant and you get out. There’s no time for playing family. The partners here are in the top percentile for intelligence in the country, they know exactly how to get rid of a woman without breaching the Equality Act 2010 or leaving scope for a legitimate claim in the Employment Tribunal. I don’t necessarily agree with the approach but that’s how it is. That’s why law is still a man’s world and to be successful as a woman you don’t just have to match them, you’ve got to better them. So now I have my own space, with a modest L-shape wooden desk, walls lined with full filing cabinets and a small coffee table where Cynthia’s desk used to be.
Outlook sings to life. Ninety-seven emails from Sunday alone.
How dare I go a day without checking in?
I slowly work through the backlog, shuffling the emails into various sub-inboxes and flagging them in order of priority. I have just enough time to read one or two urgent messages before my meeting with Jack. In anticipation of him being more grouchy than usual, I’ve worn my most professional trouser suit to work today. Jack is the kind of man a young woman can handle better in trousers. He’s been on holiday for a fortnight and if the rumours are to be believed, his latest wife has found out about his latest affair.
“Boys and their toys, lawyers and their secretaries,” I humour myself.
Here’s the thing: being a lawyer in London isn’t like being a lawyer in the United States, or at least the perception of lawyers perpetuated by shows like
Suits
and
LA Law.
In England, you study for four years and you train on the job for two, so there’s less study time than in the US. Maybe that’s why we aren’t able to turn our hand to criminal law one minute and float a company on the Dow Jones the next. We specialise in one area and I chose to specialise in corporate mergers and acquisitions, M and A. Basically, my clients buy and sell companies and occasionally float them on the FTSE. Another difference is that we’re paid a lot less than the yanks, enough to mingle with the middle classes, sure, but our pay per hour doesn’t dazzle in quite the same way. What’s not fiction is that we have to be turned out well, not quite so glamorous as on American television but dressed and blow-dried in a way that lets the client know he’s paying over the odds for a
package
. Not only is he buying in to someone educated but also someone slick who knows how to get the job done—or at least looks like they do. Nevertheless, the sad truth is, the men I work with don’t look like Harvey Specter or behave as gentlemanly as Mr. Darcy in
Bridget Jones.
They look and act like Jack.
“Scarlett!” Jack yells from his adjacent office.
I jump, crashing my knee off the underside of my desk.
Cantankerous arse! It is only nine twenty-nine!
Picking up a stack of files I’ve been covering with him, I walk with purpose to his office. He joined the firm just over a year ago and took me under his discourteous wing immediately. At that stage, I was just under two years qualified. I’d have tried to move on from his hold by now but he put me forward early for a promotion to Senior Associate so, despite too often working through gritted teeth, I endure him.
“Good holiday, Jack?” I ask nonchalantly and instantly cringe.
He glares at me from the leather chair behind his desk.
Do I attempt to rectify the situation?
I choose to sit.
“Where are we with the Portman deal?” he snaps, almost spitting through his whisky-and-nicotine-stained mustache.
“We pulled an all-nighter on Friday. I got both companies in the office. It got a little tense but we battled out the final points and signed in the early hours. I’ll set to work on the condition precedents today. The money should transfer today too.”
“How much did they take in the end?” he asks, doing his best to hide the fact he’s
actually
impressed with my work. Jack has been working on this deal almost since the day he arrived at the firm and each time he’s tried to close it, the proverbial shit has hit the fan.
“One hundred and twelve million on completion and with the earn out it could rise to around one hundred and forty.”
“Hmm.” He leans back in his chair, his rounded belly pulling his shirt so tight that I can see flesh and grey stomach hairs escaping through one of the gaps.
“Project Amber?” he asks.
“We’ve completed our first round of due diligence and I intend to email our queries to the other side today.”
“You haven’t done that yet?” Jack snaps.
No, Jack, I’ve been too busy picking up your emails and dealing with all the other shit you left me to manage.
“I’ll get to it first thing,” I say meekly.
We go through each deal, eleven in total, in much the same stagnated manner. I’m grateful for the momentary distraction when Margaret delivers two coffees, a fleeting breather from what’s otherwise an intense grilling.
“That’s all,” Jack eventually says.
I practically run to his office door.
“Scarlett,” he calls as I reach for the handle. “Your interest in my personal life is noted.”
He glares at me, his dark eyes wide, unreadable. Shuddering, I step into the corridor and pull the door shut behind me.
Back at my desk my email count has risen by eight. I hone in on the one from my best friend, who is incidentally, also my colleague.
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Darling, Amanda
Sent: Monday 5 Oct 2015 9.48
Subject: Old Coot
Why is he shouting at you today? He can’t be sexually frustrated!
I smile to suppress a laugh.
To: Darling, Amanda
From: Heath, Scarlett
Sent: Monday 5 Oct 2015 10.16
Subject: Re: Old Coot
Shhhh, you can’t say things like that on your work email! You know how it is, partner vs. associate, puppet master vs. puppet on a string. What he says goes!
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Darling, Amanda
Sent: Monday 5 Oct 2015 10.18
Subject: Re: Old Coot
Don’t worry, one day it will be us calling the shots!
Post-weekend pick-me-up drink after work?
To: Darling, Amanda
From: Heath, Scarlett
Sent: Monday 5 Oct 2015 10.19
Subject: Re: Old Coot
On a Monday? Tut tut. Would love to but I really can’t tonight, sorry. Maybe next week.
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Darling, Amanda
Sent: Monday 5 Oct 2015 10.41
Subject: Re: Old Coot
Next week. I’ll hold you to it!
I set to work on the A4 list of tasks that Jack and I discussed. Soon I’m immersed in my work and it takes my stomach rumbling to make me realise that lunchtime has come and gone.
“I’ve brought you a latte and a bun, Mi—Scarlett. You should eat something.”
Margaret has an uncanny ability to read my thoughts. She might be new to me but she’s done this job for years now so she’s used to looking after her fee earners and I’m thrilled her last one retired.
“You’re a star!” I say, taking the food.
She rolls her eyes in a way that suggests my compliment is undeserved but I know she likes to hear my appreciation. I’m slowly getting used to having a secretary to myself. My previous was a share with Amanda but a perk of my promotion to Senior Associate is that I get my own. I suppose I have Jack to thank for that.
“Scarlett!”
My arms jerk midway between the desk and my mouth, spilling salad from my sandwich onto the computer keyboard.
Summoning my best faux smile, I step into his office, still clearing bread from my back teeth. “Jack?”
The faintest smell of stale alcohol drifts past my nose. It’s a little after half past three but Jack would be sitting in near darkness if it wasn’t for the cadmium green lamp illuminating the documents on his desk.
“We’ve got a new deal. A big one. I need you to clear the decks. Get Amanda and that boy, what’s-his-name, you know the one, to take some work off you and give everything you can to what’s-her-name,” he demands.
“Doug and Margaret.”
“What?” he jerks his head up from his desk to look at me. His eyes are fierce.
“Her name is Margaret,” I whisper.
Ignoring my remark, he gives me instructions to prepare for a meeting at eight-thirty tomorrow morning.
“And Scarlett.”
“Yes?”
“This is a big deal. You can’t fuck it up.”
You can’t fuck it up! You!
I know how the game works and I know that there are years of this ahead of me but I’m still furious. But the fact is, dwelling takes time and time is what I just don’t have.
Margaret pops her head into my office before she leaves for the evening. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“Absolutely not. Go home, Margaret. Thank you for your help today, there was a lot to do.”
“It’s my pleasure. Goodnight then. Don’t let him keep you too late now will you?”
“Never,” I say with a wink and a smile.
Switching on my lamp, I continue my preparations for tomorrow, looking through the history of our potential new client—annual accounts, the nature of the company’s goods and services, its key customers and suppliers, making sure that I’ll be ready to answer any question they might ask.
Stiletto heels click the corridor floor, the volume increasing as they near my office, the overhead sensor lights reacting to the movement. From the sound alone, I know Amanda’s strut. She appears at my desk looking as fabulous as ever in her tightest forest-green dress. She’s tall and curvy but her stomach is flat. She has the kind of arse and hips women would kill for. Her red hair is bouncing as if she’s just touched up her blow-dry in the ladies’.
“Sure you won’t come for a drink? There’s a group now.”
I really must get home. I promise I’ll make it up to her next time and tell Amanda to have a good night, then as soon as I hear Jack leave, I pack up my desk and take everything home that I’ll need for the meeting tomorrow. The cold air strikes me as I step into the night. It’s close to freezing, the chill feeling more like winter than autumn. I button up my mac and fasten the buckle around the collar.
“Scarlett.” Jack’s voice is hoarse. “Can I drive you home?”
He drops the butt of his cigarette to the ground and stumps it out with the heel of his black crocodile shoe. He has the same glaring look in his eyes as earlier.
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. I’m only a few stops on the tube, it’s quicker than driving.” I manage to force my lips to turn up. “Plus, I’m out of your way.”
“I don’t mind going out of my way for you, Scarlett,” he says. His voice is low and doesn’t sound like him.
A shiver runs the length of my spine.
“Shall I meet you there in the morning?” I ask to change the subject.
Jack nods and uses his upper back to push away from the wall that’s been propping him up. He crosses the road toward the car park and I finally breathe out.
