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About the Authors
RACHAEL THOMAS has always loved reading romance, and is thrilled to be a Mills & Boon author. She lives and works on a farm in Wales—a far cry from the glamour of a Modern Romance story—but that makes slipping into her characters’ worlds all the more appealing. When she’s not writing, or working on the farm, she enjoys photography and visiting historical castles and grand houses. Visit her at rachaelthomas.co.uk
Canadian DANI COLLINS knew in high school that she wanted to write romance for a living. Twenty-five years later, after marrying her high school sweetheart, having two kids with him, working at several generic office jobs and submitting countless manuscripts, she got The Call. Her first Mills & Boon novel won the Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best First in Series from RT Book Reviews. She now works in her own office, writing romance.
JENNIFER HAYWARD has been a fan of romance since filching her sister’s novels to escape her teenage angst. Her career in journalism and PR, including years of working alongside powerful, charismatic CEOs and travelling the world, has provided perfect fodder for the fast-paced, sexy stories she likes to write—always with a touch of humour. A native of Canada’s East Coast, Jennifer lives in Toronto with her Viking husband and young Viking-in-training.
Rumours: The Secret Billionaires
Di Marcello’s Secret Son
Rachael Thomas
Xenakis’s Convenient Bride
Dani Collins
Salazar’s One-Night Heir
Jennifer Hayward
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-09769-7
RUMOURS: THE SECRET BILLIONAIRES
Di Marcello’s Secret Son © 2017 Rachael Thomas Xenakis’s Convenient Bride © 2016 Dani Collins Salazar’s One-Night Heir © 2017 Jennifer Drogell
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Version: 2020-03-02
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Table of Contents
Cover
About the Authors
Title Page
Copyright
Di Marcello’s Secret Son
Back Cover Text
Dedication
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
Xenakis’s Convenient Bride
Back Cover Text
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
Salazar’s One-Night Heir
Back Cover Text
Dedication
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
About the Publisher
Di Marcello’s Secret Son
Rachael Thomas
The challenge: to leave your billionaire lifestyle behind for two weeks...
Italian tycoon Antonio Di Marcello relishes a challenge—but running into Sadie Parker while undercover as a mechanic rocks him to the core. Four years after their fevered fling stripped away his iron guard, he’s confronted with the shocking consequences...
Sadie gave up hope on her desperate attempts to contact Antonio. Now she has to face the day she’s both dreaded and longed for! Yet Antonio’s claim over her and her son is hard to resist—especially because he’ll use a sensual onslaught to get what he wants!
To Jennifer Hayward and Dani Collins,
for the fun time we had creating our
secret billionaires and their heroines.
To my editor Megan Haslam, for her
guidance and support in helping me
achieve this, my tenth book.
Finally a big thank-you to my readers,
without whom my dream wouldn’t be possible.
PROLOGUE
St Moritz—February 2017
ANTONIO DI MARCELLO SAVOURED the Macallan 1946 as it blended perfectly with the adrenalin which still held power over him after the para-skiing challenge he, Sebastien Atkinson, Stavros Xenakis and Alejandro Salazar had completed. It had been the ultimate challenge, but now it seemed Sebastien, the founder of their elite global extreme sports club formed while he was at Oxford, had something even more testing in mind.
Sebastien, older by several years, had taken on the role of mentor long ago, but a near tragedy had changed him, changed each of them. Digging a friend out of the depths of an avalanche on the Himalayas would do that to any man. It certainly had changed Sebastien—he’d done the unthinkable soon after and had married. Happily married.
Antonio looked at the three men, the crackle of the fire suddenly deafening as the tension notched up. What the hell was happening? Normally, they’d be indulging in the company of women such as the trio of sexy platinum blondes who kept looking enticingly their way. But tonight was different and not just because Sebastien was living the life of a happily married man.
‘How’s your wife?’ Stavros asked Sebastien, inadvertently ratcheting up the tension even higher.
‘Better company than you. Why are you so surly tonight?’ Sebastien seemed to be goading the other man, as if he knew he was pressing buttons normally off limits.
‘I haven’t won yet. And my grandfather is threatening to disinherit me if I don’t marry soon. I’d tell him to go to hell, but...’ Stavros glowered and took a deep swig of whisky in an attempt to put his issues aside. Antonio knew just how much pressure his friend was under from his grandfather—and the underhand threats used to exert that pressure.
He himself had succumbed to the same tactics and pressure from his family when he and Eloisa had married. A marriage to link two great families, it had been doomed from the outset and now he found himself the only divorced one among them. The whole experience left a bitter taste he hadn’t yet swallowed.
‘Your mother,’ Alejandro said, his hand tight on the whisky glass, his expression one of deep concentration. Like himself and Stavros, he had inherited his wealth and taken it to a higher level, but now he regarded Sebastien, a self-made billionaire who’d come from nothing, with caution. Did he too sense that something was far from right?
‘Exactly,’ Stavros said sharply.
‘Do you ever get the feeling we spend too much of our lives counting our money and chasing superficial thrills at the expense of something more meaningful?’ Sebastien looked from one to the other, the game of poker forgotten.
‘You called it,’ Antonio said to Alejandro, tossing over a handful of chips. ‘Four drinks and he’s philosophizing.’
‘I said three.’ Stavros shrugged without apology. ‘My losing streak continues.’
‘I’m serious,’ Sebastien injected. ‘At our level, it’s numbers on a page. Points on a scoreboard. What does it contribute to our lives? Money doesn’t buy happiness.’
Sebastien’s chips jangled as he lifted them slightly before letting them drop back to the table, the sound overpowering in the sudden tense silence as his gaze held Antonio’s before moving his attention to Stavros and Alejandro. Whatever it was Sebastien had to say, Antonio knew it was big. He knew him well enough to say it would be far more than the apparent casual comment on money which stemmed from being the only self-made billionaire in the room.
‘It buys some nice substitutes.’ Antonio took another swig of whisky, allowing it to heat his throat, then sat back in his chair, the game the last thing on his mind now.
Sebastien’s mouth twisted. ‘Like your cars? Your private island? You don’t even use that boat you’re so proud of, Stavros. We buy expensive toys and play dangerous games, but does it enrich our lives? Feed our souls?’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Alejandro drawled. ‘We go and live with the Buddhists in the mountains? Learn the meaning of life? Renounce our worldly possessions to find inner clarity?’
‘You three couldn’t go two weeks without your wealth and family names to support you.’ Sebastien’s voice hardened.
‘Could you?’ Stavros challenged. ‘Try telling us you would go back to when you were broke, before you made your fortune. Hungry isn’t happy. That’s why you are such a rich bastard now.’
Sebastien looked from one to the other. ‘As it happens I’ve been thinking of donating half my fortune to charity, to start a global search and rescue fund. Not everyone has friends who will dig them out of an avalanche with their bare hands.’
‘Are you serious?’ Alejandro injected. Sebastien had their attention now. ‘That’s what? Five billion?’
‘You can’t take it with you,’ Sebastien philosophized. ‘Monika is on board with it, but I’m still debating. I’ll tell you what. You three go two weeks without your credit cards and I’ll do it.’
Sebastien silenced the chink of the chips, the sternness of his expression a warning in itself.
Although he’d directed the statement at all three of them, Antonio had the distinct impression it was aimed specifically at him.
‘Starting when? We all have responsibilities,’ Alejandro said as he looked at Stavros, then to him and Antonio nodded in agreement.
‘Fair enough. Clear the decks at home. But be prepared for word from me—and two weeks in the real world.’ Sebastien looked at each of them in turn, the silence in the room heavier than the weight of snow they’d dug through to drag their friend out from the claws of death.
Antonio sat back again, trying to shake off the sense of impending trouble. This wasn’t what the evening should be about. They’d just pulled off the wildest challenge yet, but what Sebastien was suggesting was far more than their usual challenge, more than the normal show of bravado. This was the ultimate dare.
‘You’re really going to wager half your fortune on a cakewalk of a challenge?’ Alejandro put in, the game of poker now the last thing on anyone’s mind.
‘If you’ll put up your island, your favourite toys?’ Sebastien began, his deep voice as calm as ever. ‘I’ll say where and when.’
‘Easy,’ Stavros spoke first. ‘Count me in.’
Antonio exchanged glances with Stavros and Alejandro and saw the same suspicion mirrored in their eyes. What the hell was Sebastien planning and how was it connected with going two weeks without their credit cards, family names and wealth?
CHAPTER ONE
FOUR MONTHS AGO Antonio had accepted Sebastien’s challenge and today it began. Two weeks without his wealth and all that went with it. The only contact he’d have with life as he knew it for the next fourteen days would be through Stavros and Alejandro, who were still waiting to find out just what it was that Sebastien had planned to challenge them with and where.
Antonio closed the apartment door behind him. The sounds of Milan’s streets filtered in, seeming to bounce around the compact but sparsely furnished room, which was the main living area of the apartment Sebastien had sent him to.
He glanced round the room. This had to be some kind of a joke. What the hell was Sebastien playing at? He saw a note on top of a pile of clothes and a pair of boots which had been left neatly on the black seats running along one wall to serve as a sofa. He damn well hoped it wasn’t the bed too.
His designer shoes tapped hard on the white tiled floor as he crossed the small room in a few strides and picked up the envelope addressed to him. No mistake, then; this was the right place. He glanced down at the clothes and boots and frowned, cursing in Italian.
Apart from the fact that Milan was too close to his estranged parents, and it was where he’d lived with his ex-wife for the few short months their so-called marriage had lasted, it was also where he’d met the one woman who’d tested his family duty and honour to the limit. She’d almost driven him mad with desire, but duty had won. His passion and desire had been overridden, but that brief weekend affair with Sadie Parker had made him wish things were different—that he was different, that he hadn’t already had his future mapped out by a family who thought more of their family name than anything else.
Irritation coursed through him as he opened the note.
Welcome to your home. For the next two weeks Antonio Di Marcello does not exist. You will be known as Toni Adessi and you will report to Centro Auto Barzetti, across the road, as soon as you have changed, your undercover job for the next two weeks.
You may only contact me, Stavros or Alejandro on the phone provided. You will not make contact with anyone else via any method for the next two weeks. You have two hundred euros on which to live. Under no circumstances are you to blow your cover. If you succeed, I will make the promised donation of five billion dollars to set up a global search and rescue.
Use your time wisely. This challenge is not about fixing cars, Antonio. It is about fixing your past.
Sebastien
Antonio refused to focus on that last sentence and instead picked up the worryingly old-fashioned phone and checked the contacts. There were just three: Stavros and Alejandro, who’d taken up the bizarre challenge also, and Sebastien himself.
A furious expletive tore from Antonio’s lips. How the hell was he supposed to conduct his business without a decent phone and from such a primitive room? Hell, there wasn’t even a laptop, just the smallest television he’d ever seen. Sebastien was serious. There was to be no contact with his real life.
His instinct was to walk out and return to normality, but doing that would mean much more than a failure of his personal challenge. It would be even more than Sebastien not creating the global search and rescue charity as he had promised he would if they all successfully completed their challenges. Such a charity was meaningful to all of them, after the avalanche which could all too easily have snatched Sebastien from them. Yet still this challenge was far greater than that. It was about a code of honour so strong that not one of them would ever question it—or break it.
He looked at the overalls, vest T-shirt and jeans which were complete with authentic grease stains and bit back further words of fury as the need to succeed surged. Failure was never an option he tolerated. He’d show Sebastien he could do this ridiculous undercover job and whatever it was his challenge entailed. He might have been born into wealth, but he’d amassed a far greater fortune since taking over the family business, turning it into a global success within the world of construction. He’d fought every bit as hard as Sebastien had in his business. Family wealth and an ancestry which went back generations were not as beneficial as the club’s founder member thought.
Again a harsh expletive tore from him. Whatever it was that Sebastien had engineered for him to face, he needed to warn Stavros and Alejandro just how serious Sebastien was about the challenge. He had to let them know it was far more than proving they could survive without their wealth and everything that went with it. All those superficial things Sebastien had scorned just months ago.
A quick inspection of the phone revealed it did at least have a camera and he took a photo of the pile of clothes and money and sent it to Stavros and Alejandro.
This is me for the next two weeks, Toni Adessi, a mechanic, complete with grease-stained clothes, in Milan of all places. Be warned. Sebastien means business!
He took off his top-quality, made-to-measure suit that he hadn’t quite been able to relinquish that morning, despite Sebastien’s earlier warning of needing to be undercover and disguised for this challenge before arriving. He hung it over the back of a chair, then pulled on the jeans and T-shirt and, over the top, the overalls. He slipped on the provided sunglasses—he always wore a pair, but never this cheap or tacky—and pulled the cap on. The work boots completed the outfit and when he looked in the small mirror hanging by the door he hardly recognised himself.
He had at least heeded Sebastien’s warning enough not to have shaved for the last two weeks, something which had alarmed his PA, and now he had much more than the stubble he was used to. The dark growth of a beard was as uncomfortable to look at as it was to wear. His thick, unruly black curls were hidden beneath the cap and even to his own eyes he was unrecognisable as Antonio Di Marcello, heir to the Di Marcello fortune as well as a businessman in his own right.
He strode across the room, the boots heavy and strange on his feet and not even new, something he tried hard not to dwell on. He looked out of the narrow window onto the street below and saw the garage where he was to work. A small laugh escaped him. Sebastien really had done his homework for this challenge. Not only had he sent him to a garage to work, and therefore indulge his passion for motor engines, but it was in Milan, the home of his parents. He hadn’t been back since his divorce.
That had been over three years ago. Was this the real challenge? The past he had to fix? The marriage was not fixable. Sebastien was the only one who knew the truth of that and the weight of the promise he’d made his ex-wife. So why Milan? If not to repair his damaged relationship with his parents?
Briefly the image of his ex-wife floated into his mind, but as always it was pushed aside by Sadie, the one woman who’d threatened to capture his heart for good. He and Sadie had had a wild and hot weekend over three years ago, here in Milan, only weeks before he’d succumbed to the pressure of his tyrannical father and married Eloisa. From the moment he’d first kissed Sadie and made her his, she had become the woman he really wanted, if only family honour and tradition hadn’t been bearing down on him like a wild bear. If he’d known what he knew now about his ex-wife, he’d never have let Sadie go—at least not until he was ready to do so.
He pulled off the cap and resisted the urge to fling it at the wall and walk away from this ridiculous situation and the memories it stirred. Such thoughts were of no use to him now and he savagely discarded them.
He had two weeks of living as a different person to get through and he’d show Sebastien he could rise to this and any challenge he threw his way. Determination fizzed inside him as he left Antonio Di Marcello in the small apartment and became Toni Adessi. He crossed the street, shaded from the morning sun by the height of the buildings, and headed to the garage where he was to work. At least it was a job he could convincingly do. His love of cars and engines had been with him since he was a young boy, thanks to an unlikely friendship with the estate’s gardener, who’d had a passion for motor racing.
* * *
He hadn’t been working more than two hours when he saw exactly why Sebastien had sent him not just to Milan but to this garage. He glanced up to the upper level, to what was obviously the office window, and at first he thought he was seeing things, that just being in this area again had brought Sadie Parker to the front of his mind. Like a ghost of what could have been, tormenting him for the ill-fated decision he’d made to put family honour and duty above his wants and desires.