Off limits fling with th.., p.1
Off-Limits Fling with the Heiress, page 1
How to Win a Monroe
A brand-new duet by Rachael Stewart
Meet Aiden and Avery Monroe, heirs to the Monroe fortune who seemingly have the world at their feet! Following the death of their beloved father, Aiden has stepped up to fill his impossibly large shoes, taking the family business stratospheric, while younger sister Avery has been catapulted into the spotlight, the darling—and sometimes the devil—of the world’s media.
But behind closed doors, they’re like two lost souls, drowning in grief and desperate to recapture the loving family of their youth. Loss has made them super guarded and it will take a very special person to win the trust—and the heart—of a Monroe!
Read Avery and Gabe’s story in
Off-Limits Fling with the Heiress
And read Aiden and Elena’s story
Coming soon!
Dear Reader,
We all have a past and we’ve all done things we likely regret. Avery’s done plenty. She’s a spectacularly flawed heroine about to get a wake-up call in the shape of our super-sexy, super-grumpy hero, Gabe. And he sets her off on a journey that sees her fighting to become the woman she wants to be and not the one shaped by her family and the mistakes she has made.
A survivor of depression and addiction, I admire her strength, her perseverance and her passion. Writing her has been so very rewarding and matching her with a hero who has known her all her life—warts and all—was fun, challenging and altogether satisfying. She worked hard for her HEA and don’t get me wrong, she made sure Gabe worked for it too.
I hope you enjoy their journey as it takes you from New York to the beautiful medieval city of Dubrovnik and a spot of island-hopping off the Dalmatian coast of Croatia.
Živjeli!
Rachael xx
PS as the start of a new two-book series, watch out for her brother’s cameo appearances. Aiden should be worrying less about Avery and more about his own (love) life!
Off-Limits Fling with the Heiress
Rachael Stewart
Rachael Stewart adores conjuring up stories, from heartwarmingly romantic to wildly erotic. She’s been writing since she could put pen to paper—as the stacks of scrawled-on pages in her loft will attest to. A Welsh lass at heart, she now lives in Yorkshire, with her very own hero and three awesome kids—and if she’s not tapping out a story, she’s wrapped up in one or enjoying the great outdoors. Reach her on Facebook, Twitter (@rach_b52) or at rachaelstewartauthor.com.
Books by Rachael Stewart
Harlequin Romance
Billionaires for the Rose Sisters
Billionaire’s Island Temptation
Consequence of Their Forbidden Night
Claiming the Ferrington Empire
Secrets Behind the Billionaire’s Return
The Billionaire Behind the Headlines
Surprise Reunion with His Cinderella
Beauty and the Reclusive Millionaire
My Year with the Billionaire
Harlequin DARE
Reawakened
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
For all the Survivors xx
Praise for Rachael Stewart
“This is a delightful, moving, contemporary romance.... I should warn you that this is the sort of book that once you start you want to keep turning the pages until you’ve read it. It is an enthralling story to escape into and one that I thoroughly enjoyed reading. I have no hesitation in highly recommending it.”
—Goodreads on Tempted by the Tycoon’s Proposal
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
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM THE PRINCE’S SAFARI TEMPTATION BY NINA SINGH
CHAPTER ONE
Gabe
I HAVE A few rules in life.
One, don’t get distracted from the job.
Two, don’t get attached to anyone.
And three, don’t, for the love of all things holy, get anyone pregnant.
That’s it. Short and sweet and to the point. You see, when you have a father like mine, you learn quickly that money makes the world go your way and sex is for fun. Procreation is for other people. Because heaven forbid I’d bring a child up like my father did me.
And my life is near perfect. Take now, for example. I’m in an exclusive New York club, enjoying the finest whisky money can buy and—
‘Now, that is some fine piece of...’
Okay, so my company could be a little more refined.
I turn to my companion who adds a low whistle to his unsavoury observation. I’m being schmoozed by a tech start-up with ample promise, if only their frontman weren’t such a Grade A jerk. Trouble is my dad owes his dad and I’ve been roped in to clear the debt.
I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t work for me too. I want this company. I know what I can do with it. What I don’t want is this particular breed of man working for me.
‘Oh, my God, is that...’ Grade A frowns ‘...is that Avery Monroe? Aiden’s little sister?’
My head snaps around, my body going into overdrive before I even see her.
It can’t be...it shouldn’t be...but it’s her all right.
Did I mention I broke my own rule?
Kind of...
I’ve known Aiden since we were kids. He’s my best friend. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, or anyone associated with him. But his little sister...she’s trouble.
And right now, she’s rocking that and then some. Her long auburn hair falls around her face and bare shoulders, as free and easy as the vibe she’s giving off. Bold red lips, heavily lined eyes, an abundance of smooth creamy skin on show with an inch-thick choker sitting tight around her neck. The black velvet housing a crucifix at its centre that’s taunting the man above and a barely there figure-hugging dress that’s taunting every man on the ground. Every woman too, judging by the looks she’s getting.
I bite back a curse. At twenty, she’s underage. In this state anyhow. She must know the press will be here, somewhere? That at any moment someone will work out who she is and have her shown to the door. A display worthy of tomorrow’s headlines and another bashing of the Monroe name, which in the last few years has suffered plenty thanks to her and her wild ways.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ Grade A stares up at me as I stand, wondering where the fire is, I’m sure.
‘I’m done for the night. I’ll see you at the office for eight. We can draw the papers up then.’
Grade A sinks back into the dark leather, a glint of excitement taking out the surprise now. He thinks he’s got what he wants, and I don’t have the time to correct him.
Avery’s weaving her way to the bar, the crowd parting like royalty is in attendance, and I clench my fists. Either they’re setting her up for a fall or she does this often enough, it’s a thing. I should have known she’d be around, New York becoming her playground since she dropped out of Oxford last year, but this club should be more selective with who they let in.
I pull my phone from my pocket, issue a message to my driver so that he’s primed and push my way through the crowd. She has barely a second to register my presence as I hook my arm through hers and take the quickest route to the back exit.
‘Gabe?’ She stumbles along with me, her green eyes wide as she blinks up at me.
Even in her skyscraper boots I have inches on her and my jaw is gritted so tight I can’t respond. Her perfume is more intoxicating than the whisky, her arm through mine, a heated magnetic field. It takes everything I have to fight the burning connection, to remind myself that she’s Aiden’s sister—too young, too forbidden, and too much...even for me.
Too clever and wasted on the path she has chosen too.
We break out into the fresh air, the drizzle an icy wash against my skin, and I suck in a breath, release her with a flourish. I need the space, the air to breathe without her in it. ‘Get in.’
My driver already has the door to my gunmetal-grey Aston open and she gawps back at me, hand propped on one hip, chin at a defiant slant.
‘Who do you—?’
‘I said, get in!’
I’m already scanning the dark alleyway for unwitting passers-by ready to snap a pic of our standoff. It’ll be all over social media in seconds and I don’t want to face that kind of the scrutiny. Neither should she. But Avery’s been courting bad press for years now. Loves it, by all accounts.
And grief will only get you so far. Sympathy for the daddy’s girl suffering the sudden loss of her father has long been replaced by hostility for the rich, spoilt heiress with no care for anyone but herself.
Not that I believe the half of it...though faced with the defiant woman before me it’s hard to keep sight of that.
‘No “Hello, Avery. How the hell are you?”’ Her eyes flash gold under the solitary amber lamp hung over the door we broke out of. ‘It’s been months, if not ye ars...’
Rain drips off the railing to the fire escape above us, trickles down my neck, but I don’t even flinch. It’s been three months at most, something she’d remember if she hadn’t been so drunk or drugged up. I’m not sure which. Maybe both.
‘Hi, Avery. How the hell are you? It’s been months, if not years. Now get in.’
She folds her arms, doesn’t budge and my driver’s mouth quirks but he doesn’t dare smile. No one defies me. No one save for Avery, it would seem.
‘Or do you want me to call your brother and tell him where we are, where you were?’
She blows out a breath, says something I can’t decipher and moves. Clambering onto the back seat without a care for the plush upholstery or the shortness of her skirt that rides far too high.
I curse the heavens and follow her in, readying myself for the backlash. I should have instructed Jenkins to take her home alone but I wouldn’t put it past her to get him to stop the car once out of sight and do an about-turn.
‘Where are you staying?’
‘Why?’
‘Unless you want to come back to my place, I suggest you disclose it now.’
‘“Suggest you disclose it?”’ she mimics with a curse. ‘You’re as bad as Aiden.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘You would! Ten years my elder and you’re both ancient and boring with it. Or is this what happens when you pass thirty?’
‘It’s twelve.’
‘Twelve?’
‘There are twelve years between us. And wanting to keep one’s personal life out of the public eye isn’t ancient or boring, it’s the right thing to do. Especially when one seems to have a predilection for doing wrong.’
She gives a harsh laugh. ‘And what happened to fun, Gabe? What happened to living your life and enjoying every second? You know you only get one, right?’
I suppress a sudden smile. Sparring with her is too much fun and beats the company I was enduring not ten minutes ago. If it weren’t a by-product of her poor judgement call, I’d allow myself to enjoy this little interlude. ‘Address?’
She gives it through gritted teeth, her sullen expression deepening and tugging my gaze south, to her mouth—far too full and far too taunting cloaked in red. Reminding me that, for all she is Aiden’s sister, she is indeed a woman, a woman who sparks thoughts that I have no place entertaining.
I clear my throat, look away and catch Jenkins’ raised brow through the rear-view mirror. He’s questioning the destination and frankly I am too. I don’t recognise it. And I know this city. The parts you want to know at any rate.
I give him a silent nod to proceed.
‘You realise my friends will wonder what’s happened to me?’
I flick her a look. ‘Are they underage too?’
‘I’m perfectly legal back home.’
I want to ask where she considers that to be. Her family have homes across North America and Europe but, as far as I’m aware, since dropping out of uni she’s barely been back to any. For a girl that used to be such a homebody, the last six years have seen her grow more and more distant. From the people that matter, should matter...can she not see that?
‘And you think that makes it okay? Do you really want to be splashed across the tabloids come morning? Do you really want to bring that disgrace on your family?’
‘What difference does it make? They’ll print what they like anyway.’
‘Not if you don’t give them fodder to pore over.’
‘Whatever.’ She slumps back in her seat, arms tightly crossed around her middle and emphasising her feminine curves. Curves I don’t want to acknowledge. I don’t want to appreciate. Not when they belong to Aiden’s sister and she’s as forbidden as she is messed up. I want to help her but I know my help is unwelcome.
I force my eyes away, stare out of the window. Take in the shiny towers and bustling sidewalks that shift into the dark and dingy...boarded-up windows, litter filling the streets, abandoned sleeping bags and rolled out boxes lining the ground—just where in the hell are we?
She can’t be staying here. ‘Who were you meeting?’
‘None of your business.’
‘Are they staying with you?’
She flicks me a look that says the same—none of your business.
‘You should message them at least, let them know you’re safe.’
She scoffs. ‘Now you’re worried about that?’ She spies something outside that has her leaning forward in her seat, bringing her closer to my driver. ‘You can pull over, thanks. I can walk from here.’
‘Are you serious?’ I choke out in surprise, panic even.
‘What?’
‘I’m not letting you out here.’
‘This street not up to your standard?’
‘This isn’t up to...’ I grit my teeth, try again. ‘I’m not leaving you here.’
‘This is where I’m staying.’
‘Over my dead body.’
‘That can be arranged.’ She stares back at me, hard, her jaw pulsing, her throat a livewire.
‘Sir?’ Jenkins breaks through the tension, asking for instruction and there’s only one I can give.
‘Home, and step on it.’
She starts beside me. ‘Oh, no, we’re not.’
‘At the risk of sounding like some pantomime audience, oh, yes, we are.’ My car is already attracting too much attention crawling the sidewalk—any moment now one of the semi-naked women pacing out there is going to tap the glass and ask if I want company. I give a silent curse. What is Avery doing here? She can afford New York’s finest, she can afford... Hell, anything is better than this.
And who is it that lives here? A guy she’s seeing? Some, heaven forbid, drug dealer?
My skin crawls and a fire burns in my gut. ‘I am not leaving you here. Your brother would never forgive me.’
And I’d never forgive myself... She’s his sister, which makes her near enough blood to me.
‘And I’ll never forgive you for humiliating me back there.’
‘Better to be humiliated in front of me than the entire world come morning.’
‘Like I care.’
‘You should care!’
‘Who do you think you are, Gabe? You’re not my father, my brother, my mother even, you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do!’
‘Wanna bet?’
She makes a sound akin to a grunt and I’m done arguing with her. The sooner we’re back at my place, the sooner I can get to the bottom of where she’s staying, why she’s staying there and where she’ll be staying until her departure from the city.
‘You must have better things to be doing with your evening than babysitting me?’
‘You’d think that, wouldn’t you...?’
Truth is, I don’t. Even in light of the takeover bid I want to make come morning, the millions I’ll make the Curran empire have nothing on her. Because everything else pales alongside Avery Monroe, right now, and the press debacle I want to save her from.
But now we’re stuck together. Confined quarters. No escape and I’m no longer sure what’s worse, the way my body’s responding to her against my will, or the press and their insatiable hunger as far as this rebel heiress is concerned.
A hunger that I don’t want her to feed.
As for my own... I can control that. She’s Aiden’s sister, totally off limits, and, in her eyes, I’m ancient. She outright told me as much.
But ancient? I shift in my seat, swallow back another curse.
Well, I’ll be...
Avery
I sit very still, my lips pressed together, my thighs too.
Because this is Gabe Curran. Gabe freaking Curran. The man that has fuelled my fantasies since I came of age and the one man that will never see me as more than his best friend’s little sister. An annoyance. A child. Someone to be disciplined and quieted and kept out of sight.
And I want to scream.
I’m sick of being pigeonholed. Pigeonholed and pitied. Poor little rich girl. Lost her father and hasn’t known what to do with herself since. Or worse, spoilt and selfish with it, she’s an embarrassment to the Monroe name.
