One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Trish WylieЧитать онлайн книгу.
estate were treated to the kind of luxury most folks would be hard-pressed to find in a five star hotel.
Exquisite views over the ocean from the custom-built, architect-designed house were the first treat. The fact it was nestled in fifteen-odd acres of mature trees and established gardens overlooking a private cove was the next. Then add ten thousand square feet of house with five bedrooms, gourmet kitchen and countless luxury amenities, including master suite with Jacuzzi and great room with cathedral ceilings and two-storey stone fireplace and, well…
Modern-day European royalty probably lived in less.
‘Hello?’ Jake released her as they stepped through into the beechwood kitchen, bright light streaming in through the many windows to bathe the room in golden warmth. ‘Anyone home?’
He stopped so suddenly Roane almost walked into the wall of his back. Frowning, she stepped around him, ready to make a comment about a little warning being a good thing when her jaw dropped.
Her mystery man gave her a cursory glance before turning his attention to Jake. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yeah, please.’
He turned and poured two cups while Roane continued to gape. She’d been right about the hair and eye colour being icing. In fact if anything he was even more stunning in sunlight than he was in moonlight. She now knew his cropped hair was dark blond, the bright light in the room picking up lighter strands in the spikes that looked as if they’d been formed by long fingers raked casually from front to back. As for his eyes…well, she might have to be a little closer to be sure, but they looked pretty good to her…
Jake was talking again. “Found the key, then?’
‘Looks like it.’ He turned and placed a mug into each of their hands without asking Roane if she wanted anything. ‘Add what you need—it’s all on the counter.’
Then he caught her gaze for a moment, a knowing light sparkling in the stunning green-flecked brown of his eyes. ‘Morning, Roane.’
Suddenly she knew who he was. ‘Adam?’
While Jake moved over to the kitchen table Adam smiled lazily, lowering his head to whisper, ‘Now she remembers me.’
Before Roane could say anything in reply, he turned away and slid onto the curved bench facing his brother. ‘The detective agency was a bit much, don’t you think?’
Jake shrugged. ‘It wasn’t like you sent Christmas cards every year so we’d know how to reach you.’
‘And there was possibly a reason for that…’
Jake pursed his lips as Roane slid onto the bench beside him, immediately feeling the need to ease the tension by teasing him. ‘You hired a detective agency to find him? You didn’t mention that. Was he a raincoat-wearing private-eye type?’
Jake smiled. ‘No; I was disappointed actually.’
‘If you’d told me we could have searched for one. It would have been much more fun.’ She smiled back at him. But a part of her was hurt he hadn’t told her he was searching for Adam. It was a huge deal. She could remember a time in their lives when they’d talked about everything and anything.
When she glanced across the table she found the prodigal Bryant lounging casually, one long arm slung along the back of the wooden bench while sunshine glowed off the deep tan on his skin. But the nonchalance was a façade, wasn’t it? Roane could feel the intensity in him while his impossibly thick lashes flickered as he studied the interaction across the table.
His gaze crashed into hers for the space of two heartbeats and Roane felt her breath hitch. How did he do that with just a look?
He turned his attention to Jake. ‘How bad is he?’
‘He has good days and bad.’ Jake leaned forwards, cupping his mug between his hands and idly turning it while he spoke. ‘We try to keep him to a routine; that helps.’
Roane’s voice softened. ‘He’ll be glad to see you.’
Adam glanced briefly at her again, then back to Jake. ‘Lucid?’
‘Short-term memory loss initially—confused some days; angry, prone to mood swings—’
Adam’s mouth twisted wryly as he turned his profile to them and looked outside. ‘Not much change, then…’
Jake didn’t smile. ‘Still Dad, yes. But it’s only a matter of time before we’re looking at language breakdown, long term memory loss and a general withdrawal as his senses decline. Once diagnosed they give them an average life expectancy of seven years. And they diagnosed him two years ago. So if you want to make your peace you’d best make it now.’
Roane frowned when Adam didn’t respond. Surely he wouldn’t have come home if he hadn’t intended to make his peace with his father before it was too late? She knew very little about why he’d left, but then Adam had been an enigma long before that. When he’d left she had barely been fifteen, Jake a year older—and they’d been thick as thieves. But the rebellious Adam had been twenty-one. Six years wasn’t that big a gap for adults, but back then it had seemed like a lot more. Adam had been a young man, and a deeply unhappy one at that. He hadn’t wanted to spend time hanging round with two carefree teenagers during their endless halcyon summers.
Jake pushed again. ‘If you want to look the business over before you make any decisions, then—’
‘There’s a hurry, is there?’
God, he was so cold! Roane felt a chill run down her spine, fighting the need to shiver at his reaction while he calmly lifted his mug to his mouth. If he didn’t give a damn why had he come home at all? Why not stay as lost to his family as he’d been for the last twelve years?
‘Yes,’ Jake informed him.
Roane blinked at her friend. What was going on?
Adam apparently knew. ‘Gonna buy me out, are you?’
‘If I have to.’ Jake nodded once.
Roane leaned her elbow on the arm of the wooden bench and rested her forefinger along the side of her face, hiding her mouth behind the rest of her fingers. Adam Bryant might be pretty amazing to look at, but he wasn’t much of a personality, was he? Didn’t he feel the least bit guilty that he’d left everything on his younger brother’s shoulders? She might not know much, but she knew Jake had been tense of late, preoccupied, older somehow… Running the Bryant empire alone had been taking its toll.
As if he could sense her disapproval, Adam’s gaze flickered briefly towards her again, then back to Jake just as fast. Frankly it was starting to bug Roane. It felt as if he was dismissing her presence—as if he didn’t feel she should even be there. But if Jake thought that he wouldn’t have brought her in with him, would he? With the benefit of hindsight, she knew he’d probably felt the need for moral support.
‘I’ll take a look at the figures,’ Adam told Jake.
‘There’s a board meeting at three in Manhattan. Roane can fly you in, can’t you, Ro?’
Did she have to? She smiled. ‘’Course I can.’
Adam didn’t look at her. ‘I’ll drive.’
‘It’s at least five and a half hours by road—you’d need to leave in an hour,’ Roane pointed out. ‘It’s less than two hours by air; you wouldn’t have to leave til noon. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your dad before you go…’
When he looked at her again she quirked her brows. Not that it had any effect on him. Instead he held her gaze steadily, as if to prove he could having spent so little time looking her directly in the eye.
‘You fly?’
‘Yes.’ Silently she willed him to make a comment about it being a step up from the chauffeur-cum-handyman position her father had held