for more titles.
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.
Contents
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
