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“I’ll make the land over to your father if you give me a full explanation as to why you left me.”
Leonie stared at him blankly. “You’re prepared to barter a valuable plot of land just to hear me tell you something you already know?”
“I don’t know. That’s the point.” He leaned forward, his eyes locked with hers. “I swear I was never unfaithful while we were together. I loved you, Leonie. And, fool that I am, I thought you loved me.”
“I did. You know I did.” Her eyes glistened suddenly with unshed tears. “But one day I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And my whole life fell apart.”
Jonah looked at her in expectant silence, which stretched Leonie’s nerves to the limit. “All right, Jonah, I’ll explain. But before I start there’s something I need to know. You’re not the only one after the truth. How many people actually know that Fenny is your daughter?”
A family with a passion for life—and for love.
Welcome to the first book in The Dysarts, a wonderful new series by favorite author Catherine George. A Vengeful Reunion tells the story of eldest daughter Leonie, who returns home for a family celebration and finds herself coming face-to-face with her former fiancé, Jonah Savage. The handsome property developer wants to know why she jilted him—even if that means resorting to a little blackmail and, since their mutual attraction remains as intense as ever, getting his revenge!
Over the coming months, you’ll get to know each member of the Dysart family, and share in their trials and joys, their hopes and dreams, as they live their lives with passion—and for love.
A Vengeful Reunion
Catherine George
MILLS & BOON
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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 ONE
SHE caught the train with seconds to spare. Breathless, she stowed her bag away, sank down into the nearest window seat, shrugged off her overcoat, then sat watching the fields of home rush by as she savoured the surprise she was about to spring.
Once she’d handed over her ticket she got up to head for the buffet car in search of coffee. Several male eyes followed her progress along the swaying carriage, but one pair, more intent than the rest, watched from behind a newspaper, resuming their covert scrutiny as she passed by again on her way back to her seat.
While she drank her coffee she went on with the book she’d started on the plane, and soon became absorbed enough to spare only peripheral attention when the train stopped at Swindon. When someone slid into the seat opposite she shifted her feet out of the way without looking up.
‘Good book, Leo?’
Her head flew up as a laconic drawl severed her gaze from the page like a sword-thrust. Stunned, she stared into a lean, black-browed face she had once known only too well. The face was older than at their last meeting, with a few added lines and a new, arresting streak of silver in the ink-dark hair above it. But the high cheekbones and wide, beautifully cut mouth delivered the same, unforgettable impact.
‘Well, well, Jonah Savage,’ she said at last. ‘How are you?’
‘At the moment amazed to find myself face to face with the elusive Miss Dysart,’ he retorted. ‘Something it’s been damned difficult to achieve these past few years.’
She smiled politely. ‘I still work abroad.’
His brief smile of response stopped short of icy hazel-green eyes. ‘So what brings you back?’
‘It’s Adam’s twenty-first today. There’s a party at home.’
‘I heard you couldn’t make it.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You did? How?’
‘I’ve been spending time at the Pennington office. I’ve seen your father quite often lately.’
Leonie received the information with hot resentment, and considered moving to another seat. But that would look childish. And there was only an hour to go; even less if Jonah was leaving the train at Bristol Parkway. ‘Where are you heading?’ she asked.
‘Why, Leo?’ he drawled. ‘Eager to get rid of me?
She shrugged her indifference.
‘I’ll take that as a no.’ His eyes locked onto hers like a heat-seeking missile. ‘So. How’s life in Florence?’
‘Interesting.’
‘Are you knee-deep in passionate Italian suitors?’
‘No,’ she returned coolly. ‘Just one.’
He raised a sardonic eyebrow. ‘Swept off your feet by Latin charm?’
‘Something like that.’
He stood up abruptly. ‘I’m off to buy a drink. Can I get
