The Chosen Heir

Copyright 2015 by Susie Warren

Published by Susie Warren

ISBN:978-0-9964898-0-5

Cover design by The Killion Group

Formatting by Quillfire Author Services

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from the author at Susie@SusieWarren.com. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information on the author and her works, please see www.SusieWarren.com.

Books by Susie Warren

The Rosa Legacy

Ruthless Perfection: Book 1

The Exiled Jeweler: Book 2

The Convenient Wedding: Book 3

The Bolles Dynasty

The Forgotten Heiress: Book 1

The Secret Heiress: Book 2

The Chosen Heir: Book 3

Prologue

William Bolles discretely flexed his shoulders, feeling confined in his exquisitely tailored formal attire in the opulent London ballroom. He didn’t need the slim fit of the couture piece to draw the attention of the fashion elite, the innuendo surrounding his family and his reputation for adventure was enough.

He should be in Dublin dealing with the latest setback at his golf resort and not making small talk at a fundraiser. But he had promised his sisters, Olivia and Anna, he would attend and draw as many obscenely wealthy patrons as he could assemble. The cause was admirable and similar to one his father had started in New York decades ago. Was that what drew his sisters in? Did they want to honor their father and gloss over his questionable reputation?

He avoided public scenes of admiration as it only brought out his father’s enemies and naysayers. Given Oliver Bolles’s penchant for unscrupulous behavior before his tragic motorcycle accident, William had learned the difficult lesson of keeping his sentiments private.

Anna linked her arm in his and smiled up at him. “There you are. I’ve been searching everywhere.”

His sisters needed to process their emotions in a much more public forum. Maybe the fashion or event industries were more forgiving then the financial sector. The privileged took their wealth seriously.

Anna fidgeted with her necklace. It was an endearing habit she had when feeling nervous. He reminded her, “You have put together a brilliant event.”

“I had the perfect venue and a dream guest list but I’m not sure of the auction aspect to this event. What if a particular design doesn’t get any bids? A designer will be offended if there piece isn’t sought after.”

William glanced around the ballroom and watched the models showcase the gowns that would be bid on shortly. “It is up to the individual designers. They decided which gown to donate and were asked to invite their supporters.”

Anna scanned the room. “The elite fashion designers are well represented tonight.”

He was proud of both of his sisters. They each overcame many obstacles in their drive to be successful. “Olivia has an enormous following in her own right but it’s remarkable that she is able to encourage others in the industry to participate.”

He seldom saw Anna these days without her besotted husband at her side. “Where is Alistair?”

Anna flicked her hand. “He is helping sort out a mix-up with the wine. I should check on a few things. Don’t look so bored, William. Mingle.” She stepped away from him. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring a date.”

The last woman he dated had left him for an older politician who was interested in settling down. He didn’t blame her but had no desire to throw himself back in the dating arena yet. Tonight, with the entire concept of the evening being to bid on one-of-a-kind couture gowns, it was not the place to bring a first date. But then it wasn’t the type of evening that lent itself to being alone either.

He took a glass of chilled champagne from a passing waiter. Another forty-five minutes and he could slip away. He scanned the crowd for a few contacts he wanted to approach. At least he could take care of a few business objectives while he waited out the evening.

He caught sight of Alex and raised his glass. His business associate made his way over and they shook hands.

“Your sisters know how to put together a gala.”

William had added the names of his management team from Maglia Rose Investments to the guest list. Of the four men on his team, only Alex was expected to put in an appearance. It made sense; Alex was dating a model who loved social outings and if she was in London then he knew they would come.

“Apparently those interested in fashion have come out of the woodwork tonight.”

“It is for a good cause.” William relied heavily on Alex for his analytical insights and calm, logical thinking.

Alex said, “You weren’t able to convince Jeremy or Arlo to come? Merle is the only one with a decent excuse. With his wife about to give birth, there was no way for him to consider making the trip.”

He laughed. Merle was going to be a good father. Jeremy, the accountant on his team, was too careful with his money to agree to attend a fundraiser.

“No, Jeremy doesn’t believe in giving money away but that does has advantages for us.” He had built a team that he was proud of and he enjoyed close friendships with each of the men. “Arlo is riding in a bike race in northern Spain.”

“Lucky devil.”

Taking a sip of the chilled liquid, William allowed a feeling of satisfaction to cascade over him. He had let go of the old way of doing business, using autocratic leadership to demand results. Instead he had built a solid network of expertise and innovation to expand and rebuild small companies.

“William, you have a lot to be proud of. Maglia Rose Investments has a cycling company, an optometry business focused on athletics, and a golf resort.”

“If we are not careful that golf resort will be then end of us.” He took another sip of champagne.

“Things have a way of working out.” Alex disappeared across the room.

A woman in a couture gown caught his eye. She was speaking with his sister, Olivia, and he considered whether she was a runway model. She didn’t appear to be tall enough for the industry, but she had a high fashion look to her. Olivia nodded in his direction and the woman headed towards him. Did she work for his sister?

“William?” Her tone was neutral and he smiled to himself. Whoever this was didn’t idolize him.

“Have you been sent with a directive?” His sisters didn’t think twice about putting him to work.

Her tone was clear and definite. “Olivia was hoping that you would act as the master of ceremonies this evening? The nanny called to say Addy was running a fever so Fionn went home to check on her.”

She was stunning. Her fashion sense stood out in a roomful of fashion conscious individuals and her deep brown eyes drilled into his soul. “Wouldn’t it be better to have someone from the organization handle the bidding?”

She glanced away. “It would be impossible to pick one person and not offend the others. You are an outsider but a Bolles nonetheless.”

He could feel a physical pull between them. “I don’t think we have met before.” He had no interest in acting as the spokesman for the event, but he was drawn to her.

She stepped closer to him and held out her hand. “I’m Bridget North. I work as a marketing executive for Olivia’s Design House.”

He grasped her hand and his body tightened. “I’m not an insider to this industry.”

She looked bewildered for the briefest moment and then recovered. “Olivia went to fetch the script for you to review and the teleprompter will have the items listed on it.”

“I would hate to disappoint my sister but...”

Bridget interrupted him. “Mr. Bolles, I know this is sudden, but Olivia desperately needs your help. If the wrong person is put up there, the entire concept could fall apart.”

He avoided the spotlight for a reason. Others wanted to tarnish his image based on his father’s misdeeds. “Someone who is a known insider would be better.”

She touched his arm and he could feel his body harden. “Olivia asked me to show you the catwalk. Maybe you could decide after you take a look?”

Bridget led him past security and into the area that was set up for the auction and dinner. A few technicians approached him and explained the layout and order of events. They wired him for a microphone and he decided to allow it. It wasn’t often that his family asked for help. But still, he needed to push down a sense of dread. He hated being on stage, under the lights. He much preferred to be out on an athletic jaunt and not confined in a polite setting.

The beautiful Ms. North went over the event with him and tried to fill him in on all of the components. He was mesmerized by her and barely listened. He wanted to step forward and capture her lips with his. Would she taste as amazing as his mind predicted? It was almost worth it to agree to this farce to put her in his debt.

“Are you planning on assisting me up here?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be behind the scenes.”

Catching her gaze, he said, “I don’t know if that’s fair. I’d like your help at the podium.”

“It was conceived as a solo presentation. There isn’t enough time to re-create the flow.”

He lowered his voice. “Then have a drink with me afterwards.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be needed to help with the closeout.”

He smiled at her. “I’ll wait.”

She nodded and he turned his attention to Olivia, who appeared on the stage.

Olivia’s voice sounded stressed. “Will. Thank you. I’m sorry that this is being thrown on you at the last minute.”

“I hope Addy makes a quick recovery.” He hugged his sister and could feel her anxiety.

“I’d rather be home but this event needs to come together.”

They discussed the flow and introductions. William was on edge. He rolled his shoulders and allowed others to give him directions, keeping up a lively banter with the guests coming into the room.

He ignored the chaos happening backstage and stepped into the spotlight. The audience gave a loud applause and he quieted the room. The introductions were flawless and then he began to announce each gown and called out the top bidder. Set off to the side was a table recording the bids and keeping track of the purchases.

After more than an hour, the last gown was purchased and he turned over the podium to the director of the charity.

***

Bridget was worn out. The day had started before the sun had properly risen and it was nearly eleven at night. Helping to box up the sold gowns, she hoped William Bolles hadn’t waited around for her. She wanted to get back to her aunt’s flat and fall into bed. The day had been difficult. It was the fifth anniversary of her mother’s death and she was feeling nostalgic.

She marked the package with the correct bidder number and brought it up front for the address to be properly written on it. It was odd—she had formed a close friendship with her employer, Olivia Bolles, but could never quite remove the resentment she had towards her father, Oliver Bolles. Maybe it was because Olivia hadn’t been raised by him so Bridget was able to forgive the past, but William Bolles was another story. He had been raised by Oliver and was his chosen heir. Oliver Bolles had abandoned his daughters but had spent considerable time with his only son. It was only natural to assume that he had taken on the man’s poisonous morals and behaviors.

Anna walked over to her. “If that was the last gown, then you are free to go. Olivia left a short time ago and I have staff to finish the clean-up.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to climb into bed.”

Glancing around the ballroom, she noticed the opulent setting had lost its magic. There were an army of staff taking apart the tables and the runway. William Bolles was nowhere to be seen. He must have decided not to wait after all.

Crossing the hotel foyer, she heard her name called. Turning around, she saw him leaning on a marble column. He looked polished and masculine in his formal suit. She had seen his photograph often enough, but somehow he was more intense and masculine in the flesh. His blue gaze held her steady and she willed her body not to respond to him. The press labeled him as athletic and sexy. His body seemed to be sculpted out of marble and he kept his blond hair clipped short.

“I thought you would have given up on me.” Why did she say that to him?

He gave her a charming smile. “Not a chance, Ms. North.”

“I believe we agreed to one drink?” She wanted to escape his presence. She hadn’t cared for Oliver Bolles and knew that sentiment would carry over to his son.

“If you are hungry, I’m happy to provide a meal.”

He motioned to the hotel bar and she found herself following him to a secluded table.

The server took their drink order and a silence fell over the table.

What could she possibly say to William Bolles? He was Olivia’s brother and she would never want to offend her employer. Olivia had always been kind to her. “You saved the evening.”

He gave her an enigmatic smile. “That is the role of a brother, to step in and rescue the evening.”

Bridget smoothed the fabric of her gown covering her legs. “I’m an only child so I’ve never had the luxury of a sibling rushing in and saving the day.”

“Luckily for you, you are rather capable on your own.”

An unkind thought crossed her mind. She had to be tough and capable because Oliver Bolles had helped pushed her family into bankruptcy.

“Have I done something to offend you?” His perceptive question caused a shiver to run down her spine. How could he possibly know her inner thoughts?

The server brought over their cocktails and slipped away.

She took a sip of her martini. “Why would you ask me that?”

He reached out and lightly touched her hand. “There is an edge to you when you look at me but I’ve noticed with other people you’re friendly and approachable.”

She decided to tell him the truth. “Being famous, you must be used to people knowing who you are and having an opinion about your life.”

William took a swallow of his martini. “Ah. So it is nothing personal, but you are not a fan of the Bolles name.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I work for Olivia and know Anna fairly well.”

He held her gaze and her stomach plummeted. “It’s me then.”

“No. I didn’t care for your father.” She wouldn’t whitewash the truth for him. His father hurt many innocent bystanders with his lies and manipulations.

He took another swallow of his drink. “My father has been dead for years. You couldn’t have been much more than a child when he was alive.”

She touched the stem of her martini glass. “I’d rather not drag up bad memories. Suffice it to say that I don’t have any respect for the way he lived his life.”

She had gone too far; she could see it in the way he held his body rigid. Wasn’t he used to perfect strangers disparaging his father? Maybe it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t responsible for how his father had lived.

“You appear to be making a point of some sort. Why don’t you come out and tell me what you are accusing my dead father of?”

She shook her head. They were supposed to be having a drink to celebrate a successful evening, not getting lost in some long ago perceived wrong.

“I’ve said too much. I should go.” Bridget gathered her evening bag and stood up.

“On the contrary, you haven’t voiced your accusation yet.”

She had made a mistake. He was Olivia’s brother and he would tell his sister about the conversation. She would never want to make Olivia feel badly about her estranged father.

He reached out, grasping her bare arm, and she could feel a spark reach her heart. “Bridget?”

She couldn’t hold her accusation inside. “Oliver Bolles had given my father a piece of investment advice years ago. Unfortunately, that piece of advice led my father to financial ruin. I blame your father for playing with other people’s lives and not caring about shoddy or irresponsible recommendations.”

His gaze narrowed. “Do you expect me to make some type of retribution to your family?”

“Of course not.” Bridget pulled out of his grasp. “It’s too late, anyway. The past can’t be undone.”

The tone of his voice remained calm and controlled. “Maybe you are wrong about your assumptions? It is possible that there are elements of the story that you don’t know?”

“I’m not wrong about your father. He was a deceitful and horrible man.” Why was she so reactive?

“Be careful, love. That type of righteous judgment doesn’t serve anyone well.”

Walking out on shaking legs, she reminded herself to push away her grief. She needed to get her emotions under control. Going to church early that morning with her aunt had been a mistake. It had created a sense of longing for her mother and made her spend the day thinking about all of the regrets surrounding her teenage years. While it was true that her father had invested all of their savings into a failing golf course based on advice from Oliver Bolles, it was also true that her father had a role to play in the debacle. Thomas North was a dreamer and even being forced into bankruptcy hadn’t changed him.

Bridget flagged down a taxi and could feel tears threaten as she slid into the backseat and gave the address to her aunt’s flat. Why had she let William Bolles get to her? She had dealt with her past years ago and didn’t want to fall back into the despair and anger. It was bad enough that she had been hugely attracted to him but allowing him to cause her to emotionally react had been a mistake. It would be best if she could stay clear of him in the future.

Chapter 1

William Bolles glanced around the conference room and saw defeat. It permeated all aspects of the discussion. Purchasing this resort to the south of Dublin had been a bad investment. If he were being honest with himself, it was a sentimental investment.

Leaning back in the leather conference chair, he observed Jeremy trying to justify the recent expenditures, then glance around the room for a lifeline. Unfortunately, no one was coming to his rescue. He expected more of his management team. At the very least, they should stick together.

He kept his voice neutral. “By your own estimations, this project has cost overruns exceeding a million pounds in the prior four weeks alone.”

Jeremy loosened his tie slightly. “Yes, well. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but the terrain is impossible. You must know that. There is nothing but rock.”

“Jeremy, if you are unable or unwilling to get these costs under control then I’m going to replace you on this project. You are allowing the local vendors to take advantage.”

Alex, his right-hand man, intervened. “With all due respect, William, they have refused to work for a set amount, instead insisting that we pay for machine time. The terrain is rocky and unpredictable.”

William turned toward the window and looked out at the expansive lawns. Years ago, his father had taken him to this shabby resort and they had spent countless hours learning how to approach each hole.  This course had been a premier location decades ago. It had fallen into disrepair and needed more than essential updates; it needed a complete redesign.

He ran a hand through his hair. He refused to give up. The course could be brought back to life.

Standing up, he turned back to his management team. “Gentleman, we knew turning this golf course around was going to take huge sums of money and the willingness to accept risk. And yes, it is out of our usual comfort zone.”

Arlo, the member of his team who couldn’t be mollified, said, “We could lose our shirts on this deal. It’s not worth it. We should cut our losses and move on.”

The men at the table murmured agreement.

Shaking his head, he said. “No. If we walk away now then we will lose millions. We need to change tactics. Let’s interview more experts.”

Arlo stood up. “It’ll muddy the water, Will. They don’t know how to make this old relic profitable again. Times have changed. No longer can we count on families to travel to a local resort. They all want to go to the Mediterranean or Belize.”

He had overextended his company to acquire the resort, but he would not run from the accelerating costs. He would stay and fight. “We are not trying to reclaim the past. We are attempting to make the course worthy of the European Tour.”

Alex said, “It’s impossible. They are refusing to even visit until the course is ready.”

“It’s not impossible, Alex. All of you. You need to dig deeper. We will not allow a golf resort to defeat us. When we bought this property two years ago, I recall there were a few locals that had attempted to resurrect it. Get in touch with them.”

Jeremy waved his hands in surrender. “That’s a bad idea. We bought this property for a song after they lost their life savings on it. I can’t imagine they know anything more than we do.”

William closed his laptop. “If you have lost faith in the experts, then reaching out to the locals is the next logical step. Go back over the history. Set up a meeting. I’m going to London for a fortnight, but when I return I want new ideas.”

Merle said, “One of the three previous owners died recently. I believe another is in America, but I can reach out to Thomas North. He has stopped by a few times.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, William left his management team to review the work in progress and reminded them to email him a financial report at the end of the week.

Instead of getting into his vehicle, he placed his bag in the boot and took a walk. He called his personal assistant to put off his afternoon conference call.

Checking his phone, he noticed his sister, Olivia, had texted him: ‘Arriving tomorrow morning for a visit. Private airstrip. Can you collect us?’

If he didn’t make an appearance every three months in London, Olivia would text him a day or two in advance and show up on his doorstep expecting him to welcome her. The problem was he would drop everything to see her. Everyone else may despise his Bolles lineage, but his sisters were curious about their father and treated his memory with respect. His life would be simpler, if his mother could do the same. But instead she held tightly to her bitterness.

He needed time to contemplate his next move. The golf course was draining his capital reserves and he had a decision to make. Pushing aside his memories, he walked the course. They had widened some of the fairways, removed plots of ball-swallowing rough and added intricate sand traps. The result was a faster pace of play considered to be more challenging. The golf course was a beast when the wind howled but would draw in the elite and beginning players alike.

Deciding not to question his motives too deeply, he decided to sell off more of his assets to keep going forward. The place was magnificent. The rolling hills ending at the rough and rocky coastline of the ocean spoke to him. He would play this course frequently and remember his father. Even if his family and most of the world thought that Oliver Bolles, and all of his scandals and lies, were beyond redemption, he would remember the best of him.

He checked the time. He had promised Stella that he would meet her for a drink before dinner. He was tempted to cancel and instead go for a challenging hundred-kilometer bike ride. He wasn’t up for an emotional discussion about where their relationship was heading. They had been seeing each other for a few months and he had the impression that she wanted to settle down and she had demanded that she meet his family. He rarely brought a woman he was dating to meet his family. It wasn’t worth the effort. They would offer advice and insist on dissecting each nuance of the relationship.

After a difficult and awkward “exit-talk” with Stella,  William climbed onto his racing cycle and headed out to claim his favorite fifty-kilometer circuit. It was the only thing that calmed his nerves and allowed him to escape his thoughts. The sheer effort of pushing his body past his comfort zone brought him a measure of satisfaction. His empire may be bleeding money, his personal life was superficial and empty, but his body wouldn’t disappoint him.

***

The next day William headed out to the private airport to meet Olivia and her daughters. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon and he had already put in eight hours of work. What did she have on her mind this time? He was heading to London in a few days. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait until then?

Waiting at the small airstrip, he returned a few calls while watching for the sleek Pilatus PC-12 turboprop to come into view.

His sister and her husband, Fionn, had no shortage of money. They had made smart choices. Olivia’s fashion empire was thriving and Fionn had launched his own equity investment firm a dozen years ago and it was booming. William, on the other hand, had taken too many risks in the past five years, and if he wasn’t careful, he would soon be bankrupt. The shame around making poor financial choices caused him to stand up straighter. He would not allow himself to be defeated.

The Pilatus made a smooth landing and he watched the two-person crew secure the plane. Stepping forward, he saw his two growing nieces, Beatrice and Addy, gracefully walk down the movable steps and run towards him. He tossed Addy into the air and laughed at her shriek of delight before turning to Beatrice and gathering her into a tight hug. His nieces were the image of their mother with their golden hair and piercing blue eyes.

Olivia stepped down onto the runway in a stylish outfit, but she looked worn out. Hopefully the visit wasn’t to warn him of a problem. He had assumed it was merely a chance to catch up before the baptism of their other sister’s infant son.

He kissed her cheek and when the girls were far enough ahead, asked her, “Is everything fine?”

Olivia smiled at him. “Yes. I was hoping to speak with you about a business concern before you come to London. And it will be a madhouse with all the events scheduled.”

He placed an arm around his sister’s shoulders and guided her to his Range Rover. His nieces had already climbed into the back seat and were buckling their seat belts. He opened the rear hatch and took the overnight bags from the pilots.

Climbing into the vehicle, he said, “I have your rooms ready for your stay. What activities do you have planned for the next day or so?”

Addy answered. “Mum said we are visiting a company that makes hats and then we will collect samples of lace.”

He glanced over at his sister and she smiled. “Tomorrow’s plans. Let’s go back to your place and chat.”

William asked his nieces about their studies and hobbies on the short drive back. Most of his inquires were met with giggling and he kept up a teasing banter with them.

Olivia asked, “Can you slow down around the curves?”

He downshifted. “Are you not well?” His sister shook her head.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Blake, greeted them at the door and said she had set up their favorite tea and sandwiches on the back terrace. Olivia took a call from her husband, Fionn, and joined them a few minutes later.

The girls chatted amicably and then disappeared the moment their tea was consumed.

“They are growing up, those two. How old are they now?”

Olivia took a sip of her tea. “Seven and eleven. I would have thought you would remember that, as you never miss a birthday.”

Tension wound its way through his shoulders. He had a few things to take care of before he headed to London. “You are a wonderful mum, Liv.”

She put her cup down. “It’s a good thing, as I’m expecting a baby in January.”

Delight swept through him. His sister and Fionn were made to be parents. Their dedication to the girls never faltered. “Fionn must be over the moon.”

Olivia was an exceptionally kind and involved mum. She was nothing like his mother. He wished Olivia’s children could count toward his allotment of future offspring. But Diane had made it clear that she had no interest in her husband’s “mistakes” as she termed both of his sisters. It was the reason he rarely saw his mother.

His sister’s face lit up. “Yes. He is thrilled.”

“Shouldn’t you be home resting?”

Olivia smoothed down the edges of her skirt. “It’s early in the pregnancy. I’ll have plenty of time to rest later on.” She sat forward. ”I wanted to talk with you about a business opportunity.”

He raised his eyebrows. He and Olivia rarely spoke about business. She was firmly enmeshed in the fashion world and typically spoke about design or culture. “You have me curious.”

Olivia stood up and began pacing. “Do you remember meeting Bridget North a year ago? She is a marketing genius and alerted me that my favorite hat company in Dublin is about to go out of business.”

He remembered Ms. North. Where was Olivia heading with this? “Many of the garment-centered businesses can’t compete with the lower labor rates abroad.”

She looked at him. “It’s an old family business that has been in existence for a hundred and fifty years. They make the most beautiful hats. I can’t imagine them disappearing.”

She wanted him to save the company. “Have you asked Fionn about it?”

Her voice rose with excitement. “He is not interested in taking on a small, family-owned business in Ireland. But you have based yourself here and you have a management team that is skilled at turning around failing companies.”

He tempered his words. “Liv, some of the companies I’ve purchased are no longer in existence. In order to become profitable again, sometimes they need to be combined with other companies or broken apart and sold for the assets.”

Olivia remained silent and looked at him. Although he doubted they realized they were doing it, his sisters expected him to the fill the void left by their absent father. William had been given a huge advantage in that he had his father all to himself, but could he fill his shoes for his sisters?

He stood up. “It doesn’t make sense to purchase one of your suppliers to keep them around so you don’t have to find a new source.”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t understand. They make custom women’s hats that can’t be found elsewhere.”

He couldn’t possibly take on another failing business. The golf resort was problem enough. “Do women even wear hats anymore?”

“What?” Olivia blinked at him.

William shrugged. “It’s a fair question. None of the women I have dated have ever worn a hat beyond maybe a baseball cap.”

“Maybe you are dating the wrong women.” It often came back to this.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Liv, I have enough issues with a golf resort I’m trying to make profitable. I can’t take on a failing hat company. The garment industry in Dublin is doomed.”

She pulled out her chair and sat back down. “I disagree. There has been a resurgence of skilled shops. You understand numbers, Will. How hard can one small company with less than fifty employees be to manage? It is ten minutes from here.”

The timing was wrong for him. “I’ve learned there is a steep knowledge curve to each new industry.”

Olivia waved a hand. “I can give you Bridget North for a year. She understands marketing, knows the industry and she is from Ireland. Did you remember meeting her at one of my events?”

He was not going to admit to meeting the uptight Ms. North and he had no interest in working with her. “Does she have experience running a company?”

Olivia shook her head. “No. But she is well educated and savvy. I’m sure with some mentoring she would be up to the task.”

The housekeeper, Mrs. Blake, came in and asked if she could clear away the plates.

William nodded and asked, “Should we get out of your way?”

“Heavens, no. The girls want to help with dinner so I’ve sent them to change and thought I should take care of this before I lose track of time.”

Olivia smiled at her. “Are you sure they won’t become a nuisance for you, Mrs. Blake?”

The housekeeper stopped gathering the tea items for a moment. “I selected the ingredients for dinner with them in mind.”

William stood up and opened the door to the house for his housekeeper who was carrying a tray loaded with dishes. “Thank you, Mrs. Blake.”

He needed to find a way to distract his sister. Leaning on the low stone wall surrounding the terrace, he asked, “Have you spoken with Ms. North?”

His sister glanced out over the garden. “Not exactly, but I think I can convince her.”

He would have to tell her no. “Olivia, I want to help, but this entire idea seems to be coming out of left field. Before I decide to purchase a company, I review the financials, possible assets and current market trends.”

Olivia touched her slightly rounded belly. “I thought of purchasing it myself, but with this new baby, I can’t possibly take more on.”

He looked away. She was a force of nature, but she was right with a pregnancy and then an infant, the timing was wrong. “Maybe the hat company will limp along for another year and then you could think about it.”

“I scheduled a meeting for tomorrow. They are within days of closing the shop. This is the eleventh hour.”

This was not good news. “What is the name of this company?”

Olivia sat forward. “The Breen Hat Company. Surely you have heard of them?”

He looked at his beautifully put together sister. “No. I can’t say that I have.”

Giving him a pleading look, Olivia said, “Please, William. Have Alex or Arlo take a look at the company and see what can be done.”

He smiled at her. “I will. But you must be careful to not get your hopes up.”

She stood up and hugged him tightly. “I’ll go rest until dinner. Is it fine if I ask Bridget to take the train up? Can you meet her in the morning?”

The idea of spending time with Bridget North irritated him. “I can pick her up. But I can’t make any promises about Breen until I visit and go through their financials. And I’m not sold on Bridget North.”

William headed to his office and, instead of dealing with other pressing business issues, he delved into the information that was available on the family-owned hat company. His sisters idolized him. He was the stand-in for their father. They needed him to prove that the Bolles name was worthy of respect and the legacy was real. Even if he knew taking on a garment manufacturer was a bad idea. His own business network was in trouble and he needed to focus on stemming the flood of money, not proving to the world and his sisters that the Bolles name meant something.

The idea of seeing Bridget North again kept popping up in his thoughts. It felt as if there was unfinished business between them.

Chapter 2

The next morning he waited at the station for Bridget North. Would she mention their harsh words or pretend it never happened? Even recalling the memory now brought a new wave of anger to the surface. He had been drawn to her and asked her to have a drink. Unfortunately, she had revealed that she had no respect for his father or the way he had conducted his life.

He should have been prepared for the verbal assault; it had happened countless times over the years. How could Ms. North possibly know anything about his father? He had been dead for seventeen years and Ms. North couldn’t have been more than a child when he was alive.

He watched her get off the train and in an unconscious gesture push back her long brown hair. She wore a stylish grey fitted dress with a small belt and he remembered why he was drawn to her. She was sexy in a slim, graceful way and looked approachable, even friendly. Only he had discovered that the polished Ms. North had a sharp tongue and a heightened sense of fair play. She’d made it quite clear she had not approved of the caviler way that his father had lived his life. No doubt that judgement would extend to him as well.

***

Bridget turned on her four-inch heels and looked down the station. She caught sight of William Bolles leaning against a wrought iron fence and sternly reminded herself not to show the slightest reaction. Of course she recognized him. His face was seared into her mind a year ago when he attempted to chat her up at a gala for underprivileged youth. He was charming and daring. For some odd reason, she hadn’t wanted to reject him. He had been unexpectedly good natured and playful. But he had been raised by Oliver Bolles and undoubtedly had issues with integrity and the truth.

Bridget had had enough of fly-by-night dreamers who only cared about the next big scheme. Even now with her mother gone, she was supporting her father in a crappy little studio flat over a pub. She could barely afford her own living expenses in London while trying to save her father. She had Oliver Bolles to thank for the years and years of hardship and struggle.

She held out her hand. “Mr. Bolles, I’m Bridget North. I believe we met last year at a gala in London.”

He rose to his full height and firmly grasped her hand while saying, “Will, please. It seems we will be spending the next couple of days together in a discovery process.”

She removed her hand and grudgingly said, “Will.”

“Mr. Bolles is a tad formal for someone who shredded my offer of a meal a year ago.”

Her gaze shot up and she met blue eyes full of curiosity. “I’m not sure I remember it quite that way.”

“Your exact words were I’m not wrong about your father. He was a deceitful and horrible man.” His gaze narrowed. “It is curious that you work for my sister Olivia Grey Bolles. Obviously your condemnation of the Bolles family doesn’t extend to her.”

She had expected him to pretend that the conversation never happened, not address it word for word. She had been too harsh. But her resentment lingered around the edges of her subconscious, no matter how hard she tried to forget the past. Her father was a destroyed man because of Oliver Bolles. And now by some twist of fate, she was pushed into working with his son. She couldn’t easily say no to Olivia, but she hoped that William Bolles would refuse to be bothered with a hat company. She doubted he was interested in fashion.

“Working for your sister in the fashion industry is far different than the financial services your father was involved in.”

***

He watched her explain herself and disdain fell over him like a cloak. She had sexy curves that would tempt any man, but her razor sharp tongue would cause any mere mortal to bleed.

He had too many skeletons in his closet. Most, if not all of them, were his beloved father’s misdeeds or lies, but he didn’t need to invite in a righteous marketing executive that had no idea of how difficult it was to carry the Bolles name. Taking on the family business and inheritance had made him a target for all those who hadn’t dared to challenge his father when he was alive but, now that he was gone, had no remorse when attempting to tarnish his reputation. Bridget North was no different.

William stepped back as she raked her gaze over him. She readjusted her overnight bag on her shoulder and waited for him to lead the way. He liked the look of her. She dressed in high fashion, but it was understated and polished instead of outrageous. Her face held a trace of cosmetics, but it was subtle. He couldn’t allow her physical attributes to sway him though. She would be too much trouble.

He met her gaze and lowered his voice. “Before we start off I must warn you that you can keep your opinions about my father to yourself. If you are not able to do so, I’ll send you home.”

She gasped in surprise. “I can’t imagine a discussion about Oliver Bolles will come up. But you should know that I always tell the truth. Even if it is difficult to hear.”

He ran a hand through his short hair. “The ability to tell the truth is an asset, but giving unsolicited and unfounded opinions about something you know nothing about is not.” He walked away from her and expected her to follow.

He led her to his metallic Porsche and stood back as she tried to fit her overnight bag in the small space that was designated as a back seat.

Climbing into the low sports car, he brought the engine to life and tried to block out her enchanting perfume. Being in the fashion industry, she knew how to make herself irresistible. But he would resist her. Instead he thought about the strained conversation he had with Stella. She had accused him of being indifferent and not willing to share his life with anyone. She was right. He had grown up with parents that made it impossible to believe in a happy, normal relationship. Even though his sisters had found love, he didn’t see it in the future for himself. Women were interested in his wealth or position in society, but they wouldn’t want to take on his insane family. Especially his mother. She would shred any woman who dated him, given the chance. She certainly brought him misery.

Bridget turned to him. “Have you looked into the history of the Breen Hat Company?”

“I did some research last night.” What did she expect of him? It was only yesterday Olivia had sprung the idea on him.

Bridget tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve had several conversations with the owner, Patrick Feeney. He hoped Olivia would be tempted to purchase the company.”

He wasn’t sure if Olivia’s staff knew that she was expecting. “She does love the product.”

Bridget was looking out the window. “Yes, but now that she will have a third child, it does seem like too much to take on running a failing company in a different country.”

“Not to mention the economy is not favorable to Irish products when labor overseas is far cheaper.” He should rein in his opinions. He didn’t want to upset Olivia and he needed to be the one to deliver the news to her.

Bridget glanced at him. She seemed to keep some thoughts to herself. “There is a tremendous amount of tradition and culture related to the garment business. When I was growing up, everyone’s grandmother was a seamstress and the skills were something to be proud of.”

He downshifted and moved into another lane. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s important that we don’t give away our thinking. We need to keep them on edge and ask tough questions.”

Her voice softened. “They are probably stressed out. They are about to lay off employees that have been with them their entire working life.”

He needed her to be tough. “Where is the sharp-tongued truth teller?”

Bridget crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

He was being a tad unfair but couldn’t resist. “I thought you liked to challenge others and insist on knowing the truth.”

The sound of her voice soothed him. “I know the truth. The company is failing both from circumstances beyond their control and an unwillingness to try new strategies. I’m familiar with their presence in the marketplace and have visited the factory before.”

He needed to reign in his thoughts but said, “So you are only merciless while trying to get to the truth if the Bolles name is involved?”

After a slight pause, she said “I’m sorry if my comments a year ago offended you.”

He didn’t want her apology. He didn’t need the complication of taking a look at the Breen Hat Company.

The faster she was back on a train to London, the better it was for both of them. “You are not on a mission of discovery but one to convince me to invest?”

“Olivia thought I could help you understand the company and the market. But I do feel sympathy for the employees. They must be feeling dazed and anxious.”

He slowed for a red light. “So Olivia has saddled me with an insider?”

She turned towards him. “I don’t work for Breen, but I’m sympathetic. I’m hoping that some type of agreement can be forged that will allow them to keep operating.”

William pulled into the parking area for employees. “During this visit, you are under my direction. You are not to offer hope to anyone and you are to ask tough questions.”

Olivia had set him up. She wanted him to act as the knight in shining armor and had selected Bridget to further the cause. But he wouldn’t allow anyone to dictate his business choices. If he couldn’t find a reason to invest, he would walk away. Even if his sister was momentarily upset.

He waited for Bridget to climb out of the car and watched as she straightened her dress and placed her large handbag over her shoulder.

“I don’t know that you need your handbag. I’m locking the car if you want to leave it.”

The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “It has a notebook and relevant files.”

He gestured to the side entrance of the building and followed her. Stepping inside the factory reminded him of Old Dublin. The brick building had to be two hundred years old and the factory-style windows were placed high enough that air could flow but employees couldn’t see out. Beyond the reception area, he could see a vast cavern of sewing equipment and other machinery. There were more than fifty employees.

***

It was darker than she remembered. Maybe it was the absence of lighthearted banter. The employees were busy at each work station but missing was the carefree attitude. It would be so much better if William could see everyone at their best.

“We have a meeting with the owner, Patrick Breen.”

The receptionist nodded and picked up an old, outdated phone and called upstairs.

“Mr. Breen is expecting you. Do you know the way?”

Bridget nodded. “Thank you, Frannie. It’s good to see you.”

Walking through the wooden gate, she waited a moment for William.

She led him through the shop floor, paying attention to the marked pathway on the cement. It was obvious that the employees knew of their visit and greeted them as they passed by.

William stopped and inspected a bowler hat. The man at the station was shaping the hats and said to him, “It’s one of the finest wool hats on the market today.”

“I can see that by the fine workmanship.” He placed the hat back on the stack.

He was difficult to understand. Treating the employee with respect, he hadn’t come off aloof or unconcerned. But judging from their discussions so far, she was convinced he wouldn’t agree to invest. He would look for a token reason to refuse Olivia.

At the far end of the factory, she led him up a steel staircase. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked in front of him. Was he attracted to her? Reminding herself not to be insane, she hurried up the stairs.

When they reached the fireproof steel door at the top of the stairs, William placed a hand on her arm and turned her to him.

“Before we meet with the owner, I want to caution you not to give anything away. We are here to gather information not to give false hope.”

The breath in her lungs stilled. He was standing much too close to her and she needed space. What was it about him that caused her body to react? In the fashion world, she came into contact with attractive men all the time and she would feel nothing. Yet, a Bolles descendant, whom she despised for his lack of morals, caused her to become breathless. It was unfair. She needed to focus on his flaws not his captivating, intense look.

She tried to pull away but he held her tight. For a moment, she wondered if he would kiss her. Their gazes were locked in a silent duel of wills and she became aware of his breathing.

“I understand.” She looked away from him and waited for him to release her.

He let go of her arm and trailed his fingers along her jawline. “You are proving to be a welcome distraction.”

Stepping abruptly to the side, she wrenched the door open and walked into a dingy office space. Looking around the outdated space, she knew William would not be impressed. Hopefully he would concentrate on the products being made downstairs.

He whispered to her, “They are not squandering money on décor.”

Patrick Breen came out of one of the offices and greeted them warmly. He was in his fifties and had worked at Breen since he was twelve years old.

“This is Olivia’s brother, William Bolles. Allow me to introduce the owner, Patrick Breen.”

She waited for them to shake hands and exchange a few pleasantries.

Patrick said, “I thought we should assemble in the conference room, and then we could call in different employees as you have questions.”

***

William walked into the cramped conference room. At least it had windows with a view of the street. They had various products displayed on the table.

“With all due respect, this visit is not about the quality of the products you produce. It’s about the numbers and how willing you are to change your business practices.”

Patrick Breen rubbed the back of his neck. “We are open to re-positioning the business, Mr. Bolles. We want to protect our employees.”

It was better that he didn’t soften the blow. “It will depend on their willingness to change and their skillsets.” If they expected the business to go forward then they must accept change. Leaving everything the same and just adding money didn’t make sense.

“Let’s get started. Bridget, I’d like to speak with the bookkeeper and get a list of outstanding accounts.”

He pulled out a chair at the end of the table and began flipping through the latest financial records. Patrick awkwardly stood by the door.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready to speak with you.” The owner nodded and left the room. He thought he noticed relief. Were he afraid of being questioned?

The bookkeeper, a woman in her sixties with a trim figure and glasses on a pearl necklace, came in with a large binder with hand written account statements.

He greeted her and then asked, “Are these statements in the computer?”

“No, we reply on a manual system and then when the customer pays, we record the payment in the computer.”

He couldn’t believe they relied on paper receipts. “How do you know what customers owe on any given day?”

“We total up the amount once a month.”

“Bridget, can you total this? And get the director of marketing.” He handed her the book.

He turned to the bookkeeper. “If you’ll stay for a few questions?”

He spoke with her without pressing too hard. It was obvious she was conscientious but not particularly savvy about technology.

After speaking with the marketing manager, an image of the company began to form in his mind. They hadn’t stepped into the new millennia. They were doing business as they had fifty years ago. It wouldn’t be that hard to assemble a team to revamp their business practices. It was far easier than solving the issues at the golf resort. Within a year, the Breen Hat Company could be bringing him a profit.

He wanted to see how far Bridget North would go to convince him. Did she believe in the company? Watching her with the employees, he saw that she could put them at ease while asking tough questions and leading them down a certain path. She could be an asset to his management team, for this project and the golf resort.

He spoke with Patrick Breen at length behind closed doors and was satisfied with his responses. When he negotiated fifty percent of the company for an influx of currency and the technology to revamp their business practices, he almost cried. William cautioned him that he wanted to wait one week before announcing the partnership structure and swore him to silence.

“My attorney would be in touch in the next day or so with the legal agreements and a check”

Leaving the office, he gestured for Bridget to come with him. He led her through the shop without stopping and out to the parking lot.

“William, have you made a decision?”

“Let’s discuss Breen over lunch and then I’ll drop you at the train station.”

He took her to a local pub, a favorite place of his in the old part of Dublin with cobblestone streets and architectural splendor. It would be crowded, but he was recognized as a regular and the server found a table for them.

“Have you been here before?” It was a well-known establishment and a favorite of locals.

She shook her head. “I’ve spent the last five years in London working on my career.”

“You left Ireland after University?”

“Before, really. My mother had been ill for years and I have an aunt in London who helped me get into a business school there. She works in fashion, so I had access to internships and opportunities I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”

“How about your papa?” She retreated slightly.

“He lives in Dublin and I visit him often.”

The server came and took their order. Bridget ordered tea and a salad. He ordered a stout and a steak.

“If I move forward with acquiring Breen, it would be contingent on you working with me for a year.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m happy working at Olivia Grey Designs. I can’t resign. It wouldn’t be fair to ask me to.”

“How serious are you about saving the Breen Hat Company? Olivia gave me the impression that she wanted you on the project.”

“I can help for a few weeks and then you can put a manager in place.”

The server placed their meals in front of them.

“I’m not willing to take on a failing company without a solid commitment from you. Olivia mentioned a year and then you would be offered another position within her company.”

A strained silence sprung up between them.

“I can’t walk away for a year. All of the contacts I have built will be lost.”

If he were take on Breen, he wanted her to manage it. “You have a decision to make. I’ll let Olivia know you are considering it and we can have a chat in a week. I’ll be in London for my nephew’s baptism.”

She placed her fork down. “I don’t want to relocate to Dublin. But I know that Olivia will insist that I work at Breen for the year.”

He wondered if she had a serious boyfriend that Olivia didn’t know about. Maybe that was why she seemed reluctant to come back to Ireland?

“You have a difficult choice ahead of you.” He would find her price point and exploit it.

He finished his meal and gave her a chance to think about the opportunity.

“I’ll double your salary and when you return to Olivia, your experience will only help your career. It can’t be a bad thing to have the founder of the company in your debt.”

***

Bridget had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why did he want her to work at Breen? He could hire an experienced businessperson who would be grateful for the work. Was it payback for her telling him off a year ago? Did he intend to make her life miserable?

He couldn’t possibly understand her motives. She wanted to help Olivia, but she couldn’t spend the next year in Ireland. There were too many painful memories. It would break her heart to see her destitute father each week instead of a few times a year. He had never changed and continued to dream of making it big. She could barely hold it together as he spoke about his next scheme. He was even still talking about the dreadful golf course. They had lost everything to those dreams.

“I’ll need time to think about it. Breen makes a wonderful product, but I don’t know if I’m suited to spend a year in an old-fashioned factory. I’ve never been excited about the production process. I’m much more interested in helping to build a line or figuring out new ways to reach customers.”

“If I take on Breen, it won’t remain in the dark ages. I’m offering you a position on my management team. Breen would only be one project; there are several other companies.”

She took a small bite of cucumber and thought about his offer. She felt resistance in every cell of her body. Her rational mind knew it was a good offer, but she couldn’t escape her visceral response to putting herself back in harm’s way.

“I’ll double your salary and give you an expense allowance to travel back to London frequently.”

A rise in salary would get her father a nicer flat in a better neighborhood. She wouldn’t have to worry so much about him. But could she live in Dublin and keep her sanity?

“Why would you want to do that? There must be so many more qualified candidates.”

“You have a natural rapport with people, but you are intelligent enough to see the bigger picture. Olivia sings your praises. There are some individuals that are brilliant with numbers but can’t effectively deal with employee issues. My guess is that Breen will need a considerable amount of hand holding.”

She met his gaze. Was he complimenting her? Or did he expect her to deliver bad news to the employees?

“You might find that I’m more sympathetic to your employees than I am to you.”

William took a sip of his stout. “I hope so, as long as you remember who writes your paycheck.”

“I can’t be bought.” Her spine straightened as she said, “If you intend to pay me an exorbitant salary and have me do your dirty work then you will be disappointed.”

“Ms. North, you have such an imagination. I’m not sure what you are referring to in terms of dirty work, but I’m guessing you mean firing employees? Rest assured, I have no problem firing people myself. But I have no interest in holding an employee’s hand and gently encouraging change or growth. That would be your domain.”

He signaled for the check. “You have a train to catch. I’ll see you in exactly a week and you can give me your answer.”

Bridget allowed him to guide her through the hectic restaurant and out onto the street. She guessed he preferred a valet service but seemed at ease retracing his steps back to his parked Porsche. This time he opened the door for her and their bodies touched briefly as he helped her into the low sports car. She couldn’t wait to escape his presence and be safely on the train.

They barely spoke on the short drive back to the station and he double-parked near a taxi stand. He leapt out and retrieved her overnight bag from the back seat.

“Safe travels, Ms. North. Until we meet again.” He smiled at her and then abruptly left her standing there. She didn’t allow herself a final fleeting glance at him and instead walked into the station and looked up at the departure board.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to settle her nerves. She should feel pleased that she had a choice, but somehow it didn’t feel like much of a choice. Olivia would be clamoring for her to take the position and it would be massively difficult not to accept the higher salary. She had been struggling for so long that it almost felt too good to be true. But what would she have to give up for this gift?

Chapter 3

William flew his Cessna Mustang solo for the short flight from Dublin to London. Flying by himself, even on short flights, allowed him to breathe. The trip was meant to combine business with pleasure. Not only would he be attending his young nephew’s baptism but he also scheduled a few meetings meant to bring in capital to his struggling investment group. Having the Bolles name had limitations, but it also opened doors to a number of extremely wealthy individuals in London. He would need to be careful or his brother-in-law, Fionn, would know that he was starved for cash. It limited whom he could approach.

An image of Bridget North permeated his usually focused mind. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake by hiring the young but rather savvy marketing executive. The issues at the golf resort needed to be solved so he could stabilize his burgeoning investment company. His shareholders were patient, but two years of losses was enough. He had no intention of going in front of the group in nine months and having to explain another loss.

The crew at the small, private airstrip met him on the runway. They handed him the keys to his rental car and would take care of all the required checks of the aircraft.

“We will see you in few days, Mr. Bolles.”

He traveled with only a briefcase and thanked the crew before heading to the car.

Driving into London, he thought about his sister, Anna. He had yet to meet his infant nephew, Oliver Martin, Anna’s second child and now the namesake of his dead and disgraced father. Why would his sister saddle her son with their father’s name? His mother had been livid. It brought back the heated scandal of his father’s infidelity with Elizabeth Harris. But Anna and Alistair hadn’t worried about any of that. They moved forward and named the boy Oliver.

At least his mother had refused to come; that would make the occasion a little easier to bear. Having Diane dressed in all black and standing off in the distance didn’t help family relations. Mostly his sisters felt sympathy for him but occasionally would insist he do something about his bitter and vengeful mother. And Anna’s mother, Elizabeth Harris, was not above creating a scene. Olivia was the only one of them lucky enough not to have to deal with insane relatives. Being an orphan had a few advantages.

William managed the rush hour traffic and parked in an underground garage. His flat in London had been recently renovated and he was looking forward to seeing the work. He had purchased the flat five years ago when Anna had married. It made sense to have a home base in London, but he had barely used it.

His assistant had come to London a week ago and unpacked his clothing and cycling equipment. He also made sure the flat would have a chef on call and a housekeeping service coming daily. He had planned to have a few dinners while in London and hoped to be able to introduce Bridget North to his contacts.

Opening the ornate door, he glanced around the modern space. The architect had removed walls and opened up the now light-filled space. It was decorated in muted grey tones with large black-and-white photographs adorning the far walls. The view was captured by the beautiful city sprawled out in front of him. It was flawless.

He changed into cycling gear and carried his bike onto the service elevator, getting off on the main floor. The doorman nodded to him as he walked through the lobby of the exclusive building. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he attached the front wheel and checked over the frame before putting on his helmet. He ignored the passersby in suits glancing at him. He needed to expunge the excess energy from his body. Checking his phone to start the circuit, having mapped out a fifty-kilometer ride through the city and beyond, he climbed onto the cycle and merged into traffic. He had two hours before he was expected at Olivia’s for a family dinner.

***

Bridget checked the time again. It was after nine o’clock at night and she was trying to finish the last of her projects. She had met with Olivia twice in the last few days and decided it would be unwise to refuse her generous offer. The company was giving her a generous bonus for her willingness to assist with the Breen Hat Company and a contract for her return in a year. It didn’t make sense that she wanted to refuse the offer. The money was enormously helpful and would allow her to purchase a small cottage for her father. It would allow him to have some security.

Olivia and her aunt had assured her that the career move she was making would only enhance her CV. So why was she so reluctant?

It had to do with William Bolles. He was so sure of himself. He only had to snap his fingers and everyone acquiesced. She didn’t want to be put in the position of answering to him. It was for a year. She should be able to survive and she planned on keeping herself busy.

Her mobile buzzed. Are you free to meet for a drink? OXO Tower Bar at 10:00.

Bridget sighed deeply. She would be finished but had no desire to meet William Bolles for a drink tonight. Instead she wanted to feel sorry for herself. Go home to her aunt’s flat and eat ice cream from the pint container.

She texted back, see you then.

Finishing her work, she left the building and waved to security. Whether she wanted it to or not, her life was about to change radically. When she had phoned her father during her lunch break, he was overjoyed by the news. She smiled to her herself; at least he would be happy.

She had dressed up for her last day. She wouldn’t look out of place at OXO Tower Bar. For cocktails with a view, it was one of the best spots in London. Olivia Grey Designs had hosted several functions there.

Getting out of the elevator, her gaze drifted over to the expansive windows and she looked out over the river Thames at Saint Paul's Cathedral and the London skyline. She didn’t want to leave London. Why did William Bolles insist on basing himself away from one of the financial capitals of the world?

***

He watched her look out at the view and not for him. Olivia had made a comment at dinner that Bridget would miss being in London and didn’t seem overly keen to work in Ireland for a year. He had discovered something else interesting about Ms. North. She was the daughter of one of the previous owners of the Donne Golf Club. Could this have been the reason she had disparaged his father? It didn’t make sense. His father hadn’t been involved in the purchase or restoration. He had been dead for more than five years when Thomas North along with two partners had attempted to resurrect the Donne. They had enough money to purchase it but not to do any upgrades. It slowly sank into bankruptcy.

She scanned the bar obviously looking for him and when he caught her gaze, his body reacted. She wore a fitted sleeveless dress that gracefully hugged her feminine curves.

He stood and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “Ms. North, how lovely of you to join me.”

She slipped into the seat across from him and he signaled for the waiter to bring another glass.

“I’ve already selected a wine. Is that fine or would you care for something else?”

“It’s fine.” She hid her emotions well. Olivia had told him that she’d cried over leaving. It made him rethink his plans. He didn’t want an employee who was homesick.

The waiter placed a glass in front of her and poured the Cabernet Sauvignon.

Lifting his glass, he said, “To hard work and some pleasurable experiences over the next year.”

She touched her glass to his and took a sip of the wine.

There was a sadness about her this evening and he felt a stab of guilt. Maybe he should have insisted on her involvement? “Are you ready for this new adventure?”

“I hope it all goes well.”

“I’ve already sent contracts over and had my management team meet with Patrick Breen. The biggest obstacle we face is dragging them into the current century. But at least they have good, solid products. I’ll want you to work on expanding their marketing reach. I’ve hired an advertising firm in Dublin and will put them at your disposal.”

Bridget took a sip of wine. “I’ll need a few days to sort out living arrangements.”

“Doesn’t your father live in Dublin?”

She looked at him. “Yes. But he has a studio flat so I couldn’t possibly stay there.”

“I live in a converted pub with ten bedrooms. You are welcome to stay there while you are looking for a place.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“My housekeeper, Mrs. Blake, adores guests and I’m not returning for several days. There is a bike race here in the UK that I’m doing with my sister’s husband, Alistair.” Why did he feel the need to help her?

“Olivia mentioned that you also own a cycling company.”

“Yes, I’ve been pleased with the results. With a small investment, it has grown into a powerhouse in the industry.”

“What happens if Breen doesn’t bring the same results?”

“They don’t require a ton of capital. Their issue beyond needing to integrate technology is the banks are not lending to companies in the garment industry. It’s too risky.”

She met his gaze. “But you are not afraid of risk?”

His mind was on other risks. “If you want to make money then you need to be able to tolerate risk.”

She took another swallow of wine. “Is money that important to you? Weren’t you left a huge amount of it?”

Why did she ask so many questions? He would need to direct her to keep her curiosity to the companies he needed to become profitable and not focused on him.

“My financial portfolio is probably a topic that should be off limits.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of how you make money?”

“No, Bridget. I’m ashamed of nothing. Not the choices I have made or my family. But my financial worth is none of your business.” Why did he let her get under his skin?

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just trying to understand what you hope to gain.”

“I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night at my flat. I’m inviting several couples and I would like you to join us. The topic is going to be Breen and I thought you could pick up a few samples from Olivia.”

She sat back. “Are these investors?”

He didn’t want a reluctant employee. “Yes. It occurred to me that instead of using my own capital on this purchase, I could bring in a silent investor. I’ll choose one of three at the end of the evening. Your role will be to talk about the industry, the company and the products.”

Her eyes grew wider. “What if they ask something that I don’t know?”

Something about the move troubled her. “Say that you will have to find out and get back to them. They already have some of the business documents so they know the basics.”

She nodded and took a sip of her wine.

He needed her loyalty. “There is something else. You are expected to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You may speak with my sister about social issues or observations about the industry, but you may not relate any specific business knowledge or conversations.”

She touched her collarbone. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because there is family and then there is business. I tell Olivia and Fionn a great deal, but it’s my information to share. Not yours. Is that clear?”

Her voice rose. “What should I tell her if she asks? I signed an agreement not to answer her questions?”

“I adore my sister, but for the next year, your loyalty has to be with me. If she asks, tell her to speak with me directly.”

After they finished their wine, William paid the bill and walked her to the elevator.

“Should I arrange for a car to take you home?”

“No. My aunt’s flat is within walking distance. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll text you the address. It’s a formal dinner.”

Watching her leave, he realized he never asked her if she was willing to work for him. He had assumed that it was a good deal for her, but something told him that the Donne Manor Hotel and Golf Resort was going to bring up baggage for her. It couldn’t have been easy to watch her father slide into bankruptcy. It was odd, meeting Bridget again made him reflect on his past. What was it about her that enticed him to think about his family? Maybe it was that she remembered all of the past hurts and conflicts. He purposely banished his memories and headed back to his flat.

Chapter 4

William walked into the church that morning and was blown away by his extended family. Both of his sisters were happily married and his nieces and small nephew tugged at his heart. He was lucky to be a part of all of this craziness. There was such love. It was also a paparazzi nightmare. Olivia and Fionn drew a ton of attention. Everyone, it seemed, wanted a photograph of their nephew in his custom baptismal gown.

The ceremony was precious and he held his three-year- old niece, Madeline, in his arms while Anna and Alistair took the baby up onto the altar with the godparents. William worried when his mother had complained bitterly about Anna using her father’s name, but now that he had met his tiny nephew, he felt differently. It was a beautiful acknowledgement, but in the end the little boy would grow up to be his own person. His father would have been proud of his daughters and the life they had each created for themselves.

At the end of the ceremony, Gothic music rang out as the family allowed a few photographs before getting into a series of limousines. There was a private reception held back at Anna and Alistair’s mansion outside of London.

Fionn approached him after the luncheon. “Let’s take a drink outside.”

William had enormous respect for Fionn. He had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. His father had taken an interest in Fionn when he was a teenager and Fionn’s own father, an old friend of Oliver’s, had taken his life. Fionn was considered brilliant with numbers and Oliver had taken him under his wing and eventually brought him into the business. When William was seventeen and his father died tragically, Fionn was there to pick up the pieces and make sure that William survived.

William poured Irish whisky into two crystal glasses and handed one to Fionn.

Walking outside, they found a round table away from the festivities.

“Olivia convinced you to buy Breen.”

“I wasn’t going to at first, but it’s a solid investment.”

“Is your golf resort continuing to bleed money?” There wasn’t any judgment in Fionn’s tone, but the question rattled him. He didn’t want to let on how desperate the situation had become.

“It will right itself. The place is magnificent. You should take a few days off and play eighteen with me.”

“Will, don’t make the mistake of over-leveraging yourself. The entire thing could go south. If you need help, let me know.”

“I would come to you if the situation were dire, but it’s fine.”

“What are you trying to prove? The cycling company was a good move. You had an interest and seem to enjoy the involvement, but the golf resort is complicated and my guess is it is putting pressure on your other companies. Now you bought into a hat company. I thought you had plans to join me in New York and London.”

“I plan to launch an investment banking firm under the name Bolles.”

“It’s too risky, Will. Your father had problems with the SEC and other regulatory agencies. Come up with something new.”

“I’m not afraid of using the Bolles name. It’s my name. My legacy.”

“I was fond of your father. We had a close relationship at one time, but you should do your own thing and not let his name wear you down.”

“I’m not afraid of past scandals. He has been gone a long time.”

Fionn put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not sure why this is so important to you, but I wouldn’t take the risk.”

***

The next evening, Bridget walked into William’s building and the doorman directed her upstairs to the twentieth floor. Her nerves were on hyper alert, she was moving to Dublin the next day and having to help orchestrate a formal dinner for investors was too much. How could she possibly convince others that it was a smart move?

Knocking on the door to the flat, she waited for a servant to answer it. Instead William opened the door and greeted her warmly. He was wearing a formal suit and her heart accelerated. She had chosen a formal gown in a light gray that was short yet elegant.

“Welcome, Ms. North. You look beautiful this evening.”

Was he trying to remind her of her position as an employee?

“Bridget, please.”

His eyes raked over her and he stepped closer. “Navigating the chemistry between us will be a challenge.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have put us in that position.”

“Maybe not. The chef and his server are in the kitchen preparing the meal. I’m getting the drinks ready. Would you care for one?”

“I better not. It wouldn’t be great to get tipsy and embarrass you on my first day.”

“Relax. You will enjoy the guests and I doubt any actual discussion of money will take place.”

Bridget wandered over to the display that had been set up of various hats that she had dropped off earlier. There were also brochures set out. “Did you want me to model any of these?” She picked up a gray silk hat with netting and placed it on her head.

“I might enjoy it more if it were lingerie.”

She placed the hat back among the displayed items. He was playful and friendly at times and then would shift so it was impossible to read him. He couldn’t possibly intend to encourage her attraction to him. It would make their business relationship awkward and tension-filled. It was a mistake she had never made, getting involved with someone at the office.

“What can I do to help?”

“Can you check the table settings?” Bridget walked into the expansive dining area with a view of Hyde Park and beyond. It was set formally with white and gold china and a floral centerpiece.

William intrigued her. Not many single men would host an elaborate formal dinner. Most would book a private dining room in an exclusive restaurant. She continued on to the kitchen and said hello to the chef and his assistant. They were polite but busy so she wandered back to the living room.

“The table is perfect. Can I change my mind and have a glass of wine?”

He handed her a glass that he had already poured.

William took a sip of wine. “The couples coming tonight have invested with me in the past. For a time, I was interested in mining and two of them invested in an Argentine mine, the other was an investor in a sports apparel company. They were all paid back with interest.”

“Do you usually have a formal dinner when you are looking for investors?”

“This is the first time. Typically I would create a short list and schedule private meetings. But Breen is an easy investment and will have wide appeal. They will probably bid against each other to get involved.”

“You almost turned down Breen. I had the impression that you were doing a favor for Olivia but weren’t keen on getting involved.”

“My energy and resources are tapped out at the moment.”

“Why is that?”

He watched her quietly for a moment before taking a sip of his wine. “I won’t worry you with the issues before this dinner. Better that you are fresh and positive.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll be able to help with Breen if I don’t understand the problems facing your company.”

“It’s basically strategy and planning. After you are settled in Dublin, I’ll pull together the management team and you can meet everyone. You will be the youngest and the only woman. The four others are all men I met while cycling. I formed a management company seven years ago, Maglia Rosa Investments, creating a way to work with a team to revamp companies.”

She took a sip of wine. “So not being a rider, I’m probably at a disadvantage?”

“You could always take up the sport.”

“What does it mean… the pink shirt?”

“It’s a cycling term. It is used to refer to the race leader. The concept was that we would invest in projects that we could get to market before anyone else. It’s worked well, but the team needs to expand.”

The doorbell rang and he rose to greet his guests. Within a short time, everyone arrived and there was excitement and good-natured joking.

***

Bridget relaxed and enjoyed the evening. The women were interested in the hats and it took only a small amount of effort for them to try on the samples. One of the younger couples, Francesca and Alberto, started the bidding over dinner.

At one point William said, “It’s not my intention to start a bidding war. I wanted you all to have the opportunity to get involved. We have worked well in the past.”

Alberto said, “Create a funding agreement and we all can contribute a million pounds.” It was an arrangement agreed to among everyone at the table and the conversation shifted to politics and then the economy.

After the last couple left, Bridget said, “You made that look rather easy.”

“If you bring together the right people and have a solid approach or offering, then it merely requires having the patience to let it happen.”

Retrieving the small handbag she came with from a side table, she said, “I should go. Thank you for this evening.”

William had removed his suit jacket and tie. “I’ll walk you home.”

She stood facing him and shook her head. “I can get a taxi.”

He picked up his keys off of a table in the foyer and opened the door. “It’s a perfect evening to enjoy the night.”

Walking along the sidewalk with him, she noticed he slowed his pace to match hers. He spoke about plans for Breen and she realized that he was planning a year out. She had only considered the employees’ expected response to the change of ownership.

They passed by a popular nightclub and he deflected a man who nearly collided into her.

She stepped back. “You have fast reflexes.”

He took her hand and they crossed the street. “There is a path through the park. It may be easier then dealing with the crowded street.”

He released her hand when they stepped through the park gate and he led her to a grass-covered field.

The heels she had worn were more for fashion than covering slippery terrain. “I didn’t realize we would be walking on grass or I may have chosen other shoes.”

He slowed and looked at her feet. “Sorry. I should have realized. Do you want to walk barefoot?”

“Maybe. I need to find a place to sit for a moment.” Looking around, she noticed a small stone bench near a monument, but it was a few hundred feet away.

William picked her up and she stilled. “I’m sure I can walk.”

He smiled at her, but his expression was difficult to read in the darkness. “At least you won’t twist your ankle.”

Her breathing became rushed and she tried to calm her nerves. Her body was reacting to him and it felt as if her reaction was wild and erratic. It crossed all sorts of lines for him to physically carry her. He was now her boss and she needed some distance.

***

He shouldn’t play with fire, but she was impossibly tempting. Her proper attitude and reluctant manner made him want to smash down all of her erected barriers. But it wouldn’t serve him. He wanted her for her marketing mind and rapport with employees, not for himself. Her sharp tongue had already torn the flesh from his bones. He didn’t need a repeat.

He placed her on the stone bench and watched in fascination as she removed a shoe and then unrolled a silk stocking.

Bridget didn’t look up. “Would you mind giving me a moment?”

He was unable to stop watching her. Even in the darkness, he was captivated. She reached under her dress and undid the other stocking, rolling it down and then taking off her shoe. She put the stockings in her small handbag and then picked up her shoes.

“I would have guessed that you would wear um... pantyhose.”

“It would be odd to work in fashion and wear pantyhose.”

Bridget North was full of surprises. He had made a calculated mistake thinking he could spend time with the beautiful and captivating marketing executive and not fall under her spell. But he wanted more from her than a night in bed. She would help him figure out what to do with the golf resort that was bleeding him dry. He couldn’t allow himself to succumb to the attraction.

“Besides, stockings are far more comfortable.”

He wanted to explore her body but refused to act on the desire. The darkness hid the evidence of his need and somehow made their interaction seem dreamlike, almost in slow motion.

“I wouldn’t know.”

He stepped closer to her and watched as her eyes met his. He couldn’t see her pupils, only the deep brown of her gaze. One kiss. He would kiss her briefly and be satisfied with one taste. Reaching forward, he touched the side of her face and gently traced her cheekbone with the tip of his thumb. He could feel his body heating. How could she turn him on with barely a touch?

He stopped himself. The way desire surged through his veins, a kiss wouldn’t satisfy him. Bridget touched his arm and moved the smallest fraction closer to him. He looked down into her gaze and tried to interpret her thoughts.

Why was he denying himself? They were adults and could move past one brief encounter. He brought his other hand up and cupped her face. She drew in a breath and he covered her lips with his.

He lightly kissed her twice, barely touching her, and held himself in check ready to stop when she said, “Kiss me.”

After a fraction of a second, he pulled her closer and invaded her mouth. She opened her mouth fully under his and he increased the pressure wanting to devour her. He took her mouth fully and could feel her tongue duel with his. His hands moved to the back of her head to hold her steady under his exploration and his fingers touched her silky hair.

She ran her hands over his pressed shirt and he wanted to feel her hands on his bare skin, but he resisted unbuttoning it for her. Instead he gathered her more fully against him and could feel her breasts push against his chest as he continued to explore her mouth. His own breathing sounded hurried and he pressed a kiss into her neck to allow them a moment to regain some sanity.

It was foolish; he wanted to claim her as his. She brought out a possessive streak in him that made him feel like a cave dweller. Why was he so enthralled with her?

***

Bridget was losing her grip on reality. William Bolles shouldn’t be able to make her feel this good. He was the enemy and yet she couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted to strip his shirt off and feel the muscles in his chest.

He deepened the kiss and she could feel an intense heat build within her. He moved his hands over her bottom and drew her closer to him. She wanted more from him. Her hand slipped down and traced the shape of his hard length. He drew in a shuddering breath and pulled her closer, then pushed her away.

A daze covered her brain and it took a second for her to realize that he wanted to end their seductive encounter.

“I lost my head. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.”

He regretted kissing her. If she were being honest with herself, she should regret it. They were about to spend a year working together. But it had felt incredible and had allowed her to lose herself completely. It never happened that way for her. Typically if a man kissed her at the end of a date, her mind would wander to mundane tasks. She never lost her head. But why him? Why William Bolles?

“It was a mistake.” She touched her tongue to her lips and turned away from him.

Glancing out at the deserted park, she thought that it had been a fantastic experience. One she had wanted to continue. But then the practical side of her intervened and she realized who she was dealing with. William Bolles had too much entitlement and power in his hands. He bankrupted small businesses and people and would move on without the smallest concern.

“Can you walk?”

She nodded and followed him over the expansive lawn. The cool grass grounded her, taking her mind off of their shared encounter. She couldn’t quite remember why he had kissed her or why she had asked him to kiss her properly. It was almost as if it was a dream and she would wake up any moment.

She stopped when they reached the sidewalk and reached down to put on her heels. It was odd to feel so self-conscious. Normally she wouldn’t let down her guard and didn’t act on impulse.

“It’s only another two blocks. I’m fine on my own.”

“We need to talk about what happened in the park.”

She had no intention of discussing it. “No. We should put it down to a moment of madness and forget it.”

“Nothing is that easy.”

She needed to distance herself from him. “This will be.”

They continued walking in silence until they reached her aunt’s building. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in.”

He smiled at her. “I’ll see you in Dublin in a week.”

William Bolles was a mystery. Why would he kiss her? It complicated everything. Relocating to Dublin would be tough enough without adding another layer of social pressure. Instead of being wildly attracted to him, she should be erecting tougher barriers. He was a Bolles and born into a type of privilege that she would never understand.

Chapter 5

Bridget had been in Dublin for five days. It was odd to be staying at William’s house with just the housekeeper, Mrs. Blake, but she relaxed and enjoyed the converted pub. She had found an affordable flat that was fully furnished and had stopped in a few times at Breen. It took her two days to convince the landlord to let her move in early. He had insisted on speaking with her employer so she had reluctantly called William and asked for his assistance. As soon as that happened, he became far more agreeable and even personally met her with the keys.

Now if she could just sort out something for her father. Bridget had visited him each day and he was overjoyed that she was in Ireland for the next year. She checked her bank balance again. It was unbelievable that she had enough money in her account to buy him a small cottage outside of the city.

Getting off the bus by his rented flat, she scanned the sidewalk for him and smiled when she spotted him feeding the birds. Only the tourists fed the birds, but Thomas North believed in living in the moment. He looked thinner these days but in general had fared well. Other men would have allowed bankruptcy to defeat them, but he kept a positive attitude.

“Hello, Tom.” It rattled her nerves occasionally that she addressed her father by his given name, but he never objected. She guessed it was part of her taking care of him and it relieved him of some of the responsibility of being a father.

“Bridget, you look so pretty today, dear.”

She kissed his cheek. “The estate broker is waiting at the pub.” She had spent the last couple of days arguing with him about purchasing a small cottage. She had finally prevailed. She needed the win. She had given up her life in London for the next year on the whim of Olivia and William. Now she needed to secure a permanent home for her father. It would keep her motivated and working hard for the next twelve months. It would mean she wouldn’t have to worry about her father or struggle as much. Maybe when she returned to London, she would be able to rent her own flat.

Thomas put his cap on. “I spoke with him this morning and asked for him to look for cottages over by the Donne Golf Resort. It would be a good investment with the course opening in the next year. The value will skyrocket.”

“Tom, that golf resort has gone through many owners. As we know firsthand, it’s a money pit. Won’t it depress you to see it each day?”

“On the contrary, I plan to play golf there one day.”

She bit her lip. There was no point digging up the past.

The estate broker was a laid back and easy young fellow who spent considerable time taking them around. Tom chose a small cottage that needed a little work and she signed an offer. She hoped he could move in within the month and then begin to see a different future for himself.

***

William flew his aircraft into a private airstrip outside of Dublin. He had spent the last week trying to banish Bridget from his mind with an intense and grueling bike race but with little result. He had only been successful replacing his desire with anger. How could she so easily capture his interest? He had plenty of women throwing themselves at him. Why did she rattle him so easily?

Maybe he should send her back to Olivia. But he had no desire to speak with his sister about the issue. What would he possibly say? She gets under my skin and I don’t want her around? He refused to admit a weakness. He would deal with his attraction to her in some way or another. And if Olivia had any suspicion that he found Ms. North desirable, she would plot and plan until the wedding was scheduled.

Frustration coursed through his veins. He called his assistant and had him set up an early morning meeting for his executive team and instructed him to invite Bridget.

Walking into his house, he called out to Mrs. Blake.

She came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. “Ah, you’ve returned in one piece this time.”

“Is Bridget here?”

“No. She stayed three nights and then moved to a flat near the Loft Market.”

Why did that irritate him? She should focus on her career. He didn’t need her underfoot.

His housekeeper smiled at him. “Can I get you a light meal?”

“No,” he said in irritation.

Watching her retreat back to the kitchen, he ran a hand through his hair. He could swear that he could smell Bridget’s perfume; he had to be hallucinating.

Walking into the kitchen, he said, “I apologize if I seem out of sorts, Mrs. Blake.”

She continued chopping an onion. “It’s fine. I’m putting the finishing sauce together for a seafood chowder and thought maybe you would ask Ms. North to join you for dinner. She had asked several times when you would return.”

“Bridget North is a new employee that I brought in to help the Breen Hat Company. Olivia had recommended her.” Why was he explaining himself?

“Are you going to ask her to dinner?”

“I doubt it.” He headed to his office on the other side of the converted pub. He needed to immerse himself in work.

***

An hour later, he threw down his pen. He needed a run. Changing into running gear, he left the house and ran his favorite route through the city. It was late afternoon and the sun was oppressive, but he welcomed the intensity.

Getting back to his house drenched with sweat, he decided to invite her for dinner. Avoiding her was a bad move; it had only fueled his erotic thoughts. If anything, he needed to see her before the meeting tomorrow morning. He asked Mrs. Blake to call her and went upstairs for a shower.

***

Bridget disconnected the call and looked around her new flat. Instead of unpacking tonight, she was expected to entertain William Bolles. She hoped he didn’t want an update on Breen. She had spent the last week sorting out a place to live and helping her father. She had planned to start at Breen after meeting with William’s team tomorrow.

After a quick shower, she chose an ivory-and-black tweed sleeveless dress. The contrasting geometric patterned straight skirt added a business look to her outfit. She wanted to move their association into a strictly professional realm and not allow her attraction to him to override her professional goals. If she could help get Breen back to being profitable, it would help her move on.

She walked up the front pathway and turned the old-fashioned door chime. It made sense that William lived in a converted pub in some ways, but it also made her curious. Most of the super wealthy lived outside of the city limits in mansions. Why would he choose a converted pub?

Mrs. Blake answered the door and invited her in.

“You look lovely, my dear. William should be down shortly. Would you like to wait on the terrace or in the living room?”

“The terrace would be lovely. Thank you, Mrs. Blake.”

The old stone patio ran the length of the building and a low stone wall separated it from an expansive lawn and garden area. There was a high privacy fence at the back that protected the outside space from the city.

Bridget sat at the table and spent a few minutes enjoying the late afternoon sun.

William walked outside and stopped abruptly when he saw her. Was he thinking about their last encounter and recalling his regrets?

She stood and he stepped forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Her stomach muscles clenched.

Keeping her voice neutral, she said, “I hope you enjoyed the race.”

He stepped back from her. He wore a light blue pressed shirt and dark jeans. His sculpted body showed off how much time he spent cycling. “Alistair is a tremendous competitor so it was intense in a good way.”

She sat back down.

“Would you like ale or wine this evening?”

She surprised herself by saying, “Ale.” In London, she drank only wine or champagne, but being back in Dublin was getting to her.

He returned with two glass bottles of McSorley's Irish Pale Ale and opened them on a built-in bottle opener by the door before handing her the cold bottle.

“There are some advantages to owning an old pub.”

She nodded. “What made you purchase this place?”

“I got it for a little more than a song. It needed a ton of work and I was looking for a project a few years ago.” She admired the well-kept stone terrace. It was relaxing to sit outside in a private yard.

He was difficult to figure out. He was driven and obviously hugely successful but he also seemed to spend much of his time alone. “Are you happy to be in the city center? I would have thought you would want rural.”

“At first, it was just me and I could walk for a meal or take-out. I like being close to everything, but inside the old stone building, there is history and as much solitude as any man would want.”

He surprised her. “So you found Mrs. Blake to help you?”

William stretched out his legs and looked like he was completely relaxed. “She found me. She had worked in the pub for years and so when she saw me working on the gardens in the front, she stopped and gently suggested I needed a cook and housekeeper.”

Bridget took a sip of the ale. “There must have been a long history of drinking here.” Her father spent too much time in pubs. It was part of the culture in Dublin, but it didn’t work for everyone.

He had a playful, teasing quality about him. “Maybe even some drunken brawls. A pub also has milestones celebrated, strong social bonds formed and a community atmosphere.”

***

She was every bit as enchanting as he remembered. “I’m assuming that you’ve been settling in and haven’t had a chance to get over to Breen yet?”

She nodded slowly. “I was helping my father with a few things now that I’m living in Dublin. But I also thought it would be a good idea to get some direction from your executive team before I throw myself into the company. I’m not clear on the overarching changes that you plan to implement.”

He decided to put his cards on the table. “I’ve heard of your father.”

A look of doubt came over her. “Thomas North is a rather common name.”

He was sure that it was her father. It was an odd coincidence that Bridget had been hired by Olivia while her father had been a previous owner of the golf course he was trying to resurrect. He didn’t believe in coincidences typically, but after a ton of digging, he hadn’t found any connection between his father and Thomas North. He had even looked into the background of her aunt who lived in London. She had been a buyer in the fashion industry for years and probably mentioned Olivia to Bridget, but it didn’t explain why Thomas North would put his savings into the golf course.

“I’m not sure if you remember that your father had invested in a golf course not that far from here.”

From the paleness of her skin, she remembered and not with any joy or pleasure.

“My investment group purchased the course two years ago and I’m curious about why your father would have decided to invest.”

He watched her get up and move away from the table. She looked out over the back garden and kept turned away from him. “It was a foolish investment on his part and he lost everything.”

He had hit a nerve. Why did the conversation make her so uncomfortable? “A golf resort can be a money sink. One would need huge reserves to resurrect it. But he must have had a local connection that he thought would help with the project?”

She turned back to face him. “No. He was merely foolish and a dreamer. He had no larger plan.”

“I find that hard to believe. He must have had ideas, a plan. I’d like to speak with him about it.”

“No. It would only encourage his fantasies.”

“Bridget, I need local expertise. There is so much resentment about the course in the area that I’m not able to move forward. I think your father would have a few ideas.”

“You requested my involvement in Breen not the golf course.”

“In trade for my purchase of Breen, Olivia signed over your employment contract for a year. The new contract doesn’t specify Breen. It’s understood that my employees will work on any of the companies that I acquire.”

***

Her heart raced. There was no way that she would work on the golf course. She would have to find a way out. It had destroyed her family and nearly cost her father his life. The depression that had plagued him since the bankruptcy worried her each day. With her mother gone, he no longer had a reason to get up each morning.

“I’m not going near the golf course. I’m not helping with marketing for it and I’m certainly not going to set up a meeting with my father.”

Mrs. Blake popped her head out of the door. “Would you like dinner on the terrace or in the dining room?”

“I’m not staying after all, Mrs. Blake.”

William stood up. “Mrs. Blake, I think the dining room, and Ms. North will be staying. We just need a few minutes to sort out a disagreement.”

She watched the housekeeper disappear. The entire situation was awkward. She hated to inconvenience Mrs. Blake, but there was no way she would be able to stomach any meal.

William faced her and lifted his hands palms up. “Why are you so upset?”

Bridget took in a calming breath. She needed to regain control. It would not be wise to show William how much this bothered her. “I’ve been gearing up for working at the hat company. I know nothing about running or renovating a golf course. You must suspect that my father was devastated by the bankruptcy. To bring all of that up again won’t do anyone any good.”

“I disagree. It might help him put it in perspective. He didn’t have the resources to properly make a go of it. Now if there is a way to bring him in, it would be healing, I imagine.”

“I don’t know why you are pursuing this. He doesn’t hold any secrets about the place. He won’t be able to help you.”

“You need to let me decide that.”

“No. I won’t put my father in harm’s way.”

“You have very little choice, Bridget. If you default on your contract, then you will be required to repay the advance. An advance that you have already spent on a cottage for your father.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I make it my business to understand my employees’ financial circumstances. I need to know what your motivations are and why you may advocate for a particular decision or investment.”

Her mind went blank. “That has to be an invasion of privacy. I have a right to conduct my life as I see fit and not have every detail told to you.”

“You signed the contract and agreed to divulge any expenditure over 5,000 euros.”

How could she have signed the paperwork without asking more questions? “Not on a personal basis. I agreed on disclosing business expenses.”

“The contract specified personal financial transactions. My executive team has skin in the game. Each member owns a percentage of each deal, but for purposes of conflict of interest, I have to know about the financial circumstances of each of my executives. I rely heavily on their wisdom and advice. I need to know where their interests lie.”

“I can’t imagine knowing that I purchased a cottage for my father would help further your business interests.”

“It tells me that you are all in. You are not holding back waiting to see if this experiment will work. Like it or not, you are committed for the next year. You need to re-read the contract.”

“I fully intend to work at Breen and do everything within my power to make the company profitable. But I can’t possibly help with the golf resort or involve my father.”

“The executive meeting tomorrow morning is at the golf resort. It is the focus at the moment of my executive team. Breen is a tangent. I’ve given them the money to continue for the next several months so we have some time. The resort, on the other hand, is at a crucial stage.”

She stood up straighter. “You brought me in knowing who my father was?”

William ran a hand through his hair. “No. It was a welcome coincidence. But you are seen as a marketing genius and I intended to get your help with the resort in addition to Breen. But now knowing that you could sway the locals or your father could, I’m keen to make use of that connection.”

Panic wound its way through her body. She couldn’t allow him to systematically ruin everything she had built for herself. Going back would do that. It would bring up old resentments and paralyze her, preventing her from telling the truth. In this case, the truth was too painful. “I can’t do it, William. The resort holds so many negative memories for me. I wouldn’t be able to help even if I wanted to.”

He met her gaze and his focus didn’t waver. She could feel the intensity of his stare to her core. “You will have to get over the past. You have the skills and expertise to move the project forward and I expect your full involvement.”

Her body tightened. Involvement in the resort would in some ways tarnish the memories she had of her mother. She had promised her that she would move on and create a life for herself away from all the bad memories.

“What are you so afraid of?” She refused to give William Bolles insight into her fears. He had no right to dig so deep.

Her voice sounded fragile and unsure. “I’ll speak with my father, but I doubt you will get the outcome that you are expecting.”

He held his hand up towards the house. “Let’s go in for dinner. Mrs. Blake makes an amazing fish chowder.”

How was she going to survive this? William would have her father hanging on his every word and looking for encouragement. If she wasn’t careful, her father would volunteer to spend his entire day helping out. Maybe he would feel vindicated in some way.

Or would it totally destroy him to see someone else succeed where he failed?

Bridget wasn’t sure, but either way, she knew nothing could change the past.

Chapter 6

Bridget waited for William outside her flat in the early morning. Commuters were rushing to their destinations and school children walked by with their friends. She had chosen the furnished flat based on the closeness to the Breen Hat Company. She hadn’t considered that she would need to purchase a car, as the Donne Manor Hotel and Golf Resort was completely inaccessible by public transportation.

She had called her father last night, and he seemed overjoyed that her new boss was the owner of the golf resort and happily agreed to meet for coffee later in the morning. At least he was happy. But how would she keep a reasonable distance between William and her father? She needed her work life to be completely separate from her family life.

Rehearsing in her mind the questions she would ask, she tried to focus on the meeting ahead. What did William expect of her? She understood the fashion world. Marketing was focused on the consumer and she had no knowledge of the hospitality industry or golf venues. How could she possibly be helpful?

She was probably overdressed. She wore a black Burberry skirt with a fitted white pressed shirt and metallic pumps. She had packed her luggage with fashion pieces meticulously collected from all of the sample sales she had frequented. She expected to be at Breen, not a golf course.

William double-parked his Land Rover and got out to open the door for her. He looked incredible in dark jeans and a bright orange racing jersey. His hair was neatly gelled and he wore reflective sunglasses.

“Ready to face the past?”

She climbed in and he shut the door.

He maneuvered back into traffic and she said, “This is not about me facing the past. I was never an owner of The Donne. But given everything I know about the resort, I highly doubt you will turn it around.”

He sounded amused. “Ah. You have so little faith. The hotel needs to be upgraded, but I’ve hired a gifted landscape architect and the course has been reimagined.”

“So have you been able to list the course in any of the major golf events?”

“The work has to be finished before it can qualify. This is why I need a local person to help with the negotiations.”

“From everything I remember, the terrain was rocky and treacherous. I don’t know how you will manage to make it work.”

“The course has to be challenging or it won’t inspire top players to come.”

“I doubt the run-down hotel will inspire those top players to stay.”

“You would be surprised. With the right course, they would probably stay in a tent. That was the mistake your father made... trying to upgrade the facilities first and then allowing those who do shoddy work to have control.”

“If he made so many mistakes, why do you insist on meeting with him?”

“Your father has a connection to the local contractors. We need someone who can negotiate for us.”

“He is a dreamer. I wouldn’t put him in charge of negotiating with anyone.”

“Without a dreamer, it would be hard to complete the project. Someone had to see the good in it. I played the course many times as a teenager and it was magical. The way it drops off and you can see the ocean from every part of the course.”

William surprised her. Discussing the course, he was about more than merely profit and loss. He had some sort of nostalgic connection with the land. Like her father.

“Does your management team agree with seeking out Tom?”

“They are somewhat defeated at the moment. The Donne is hemorrhaging money. We have never taken on a long-term company or project that had this much risk. They need to dig in and find talent and expertise that they didn’t know existed within themselves to make this work.”

“Maybe you are asking too much of them?”

“They are well compensated to succeed where others have failed. We have turned around several companies that are now doing unimaginable sales. I know this will happen for The Donne.”

He turned down the private road towards The Donne. It was more beautiful than she remembered. The sweeping lawns were more dramatic and she could see work happening in the distance.

“It has changed considerably, but I don’t share your enthusiasm. You probably shouldn’t bring me in because I’m not able to be a cheerleader. I don’t see success as a likely outcome.”

“You haven’t been here in years. I’ll ask you to withhold judgment. If you approach this with an open mind and give it a chance then tell me you can’t help – I’ll send you over to Breen.”

“William, I belong at Breen. I have experience in the fashion industry.”

Her words were met with silence and she began to feel uneasy. He had just asked her to withhold judgment and have an open mind. Surely she was capable of that? Even if this horrible place brought back terrible memories for her. Her father had spent the last few years of her mother’s life throwing himself into this place and it was all for nothing.

***

William parked the vehicle near the conference center. Getting out, he breathed in the fresh scent of grass being cut. He waited for Bridget to climb out of the Range Rover and walk towards him. Why did he find her so alluring? She would be impossible to work with. Why couldn’t she accept direction and decide to throw herself into something unexpected? Her negative thoughts about The Donne were making him uneasy. Fionn has visited a few months back and had counseled him to give up and pull out of the project. The course might be a beast, but he wanted to see it come alive again. He was doing it in memory of his father. He wanted to come and play eighteen holes and think of him. Giving up at this point would be admitting to failure. He would rather go bankrupt. If he was going to fail, then why not fail hugely?

He had convinced himself that Bridget North should be off limits. Her appeal should be resisted. But watching her, he was reconsidering his declaration to himself. Why not pursue a satisfying physical relationship with her? It would take the edge off their business differences. Would she be a willing participant or would she insist on maintaining a respectful professional distance?

“Come. The team is meeting in the club house.”

She followed him and he held the door to the new space. It was the only building onsite that he had been able to design from scratch. They had demolished the old clubhouse and sited this one in a better location to take in the grandness of the course.

“This building is new. We needed a club house that could host large press gatherings and an influx of fans for important tournaments.”

She stopped in the center of the space and glanced around.

“It is an architectural feat,” Will said. “It’s design showcases the course, but the expansive space is inviting.”

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he needed to take it slow with her. His general manager had warned him that the North family had taken losing this place to heart and shortly thereafter her mother had died. It was complicated involving her. Maybe he was asking too much.

“This building houses a conference center for meetings or training.” He led her away from the main open area and to a secluded private section that housed the meeting rooms.

Walking into the meeting room, he noticed his four-person executive group had already begun a heated debate about the renovation of the hotel. The conversation stopped when everyone noticed he had brought a guest.

“This is Bridget North. She is a marketing executive that I was bringing in for Breen but thought she may be able to help us with The Donne.”

Alex was the first to stand and hold out his hand to her. They sat at the conference table and each member introduced himself.

“One odd coincidence that I’d like to mention is that my father, Thomas North, had been a previous owner of this resort years ago. I had a front row view of some of the challenges of trying to bring back an old but loved relic.”

There was no sentiment in her tone. It was professional and honest. He looked at his management team and knew she would be accepted among them without resentment. It was the combination of her beauty and professionalism that had softened them.

Alex said, “William mentioned scheduling a meeting with your father for later today.”

“Yes. He convinced me to open up that can of worms. My father loves this place, but that feeling couldn’t be translated to a sound business plan. I’d imagine that it will take a logical approach and not intuition.”

Someone else said, “It’s important to understand the history of this place so we don’t fall victim to some of the same mistakes.”

William directed the accountant, Jeremy Spire, to give a review of recent expenditures. The rest of the project meeting was fast-paced and he made sure to keep everyone on task. Bridget was given a list of objectives, and their communications fellow promised to set up email and passwords for her to their company site.

As they were walking out, Will asked her, “Did you bring different shoes?”

Glancing at her, he remembered their walk through the park at night. She was impossibly sexy with her long legs and four-inch heels. Why did she wear such impractical shoes? There was no way he could walk the course with her.

“I didn’t know I needed flats.”

“We are at a golf course, not a fashion runway.” He was being unfair, but he wanted to get outside and take a walk. Being in her presence was messing with his head.

Alex stepped in. “Upstairs the supply room has begun taking in stock. Maybe you can find her a pair of women’s golf shoes?”

Frustration flowed through his body. He needed to escape. But he hid his feelings and said, “It’s worth a shot.”

Bridget said goodbye to everyone and he attempted to contain his impatience. Leading her away, they went up the stairs and he brought her into the professional shop.

“Do you know your size?”

“I’ve never worn golf shoes, but I’m a thirty-seven typically.”

Pulling out a box of shoes, he handed them to her. “A gift.”

She sat on a bench and reached down to remove her shoes. His blood pressure skyrocketed. He had seen her sexy stockings and knew what was underneath her skirt. How could he possibly work this way? It would be far simpler to send her to Breen.

Turning away from her, he made a point of checking out some of the other items that had come in. They would be able to open nine of the holes for golf within a few weeks.

“I’m ready.” She looked just as sexy in golf shoes.

He led her outside without saying anything. It was a warm day and the sun was overhead.

***

Bridget pushed away thoughts of kissing him. The erotic encounter at the park still had power over her, but she needed to erect firm barriers around her professional life. No good would come of letting down her guard and throwing herself into his arms. She had been given an opportunity to build her career and she couldn’t allow the past to drag her down.

“You are lost in thought.” His voice drew her back. William was impossibly sexy and was standing much to close.

She stepped away and took in a deep breath. “The changes here have surprised me. Can you give me a tour?”

He moved toward a cart.

“Could we walk? I have decent shoes now.”

“It would take longer, but I don’t see an issue.”

She didn’t want to sit next to him in the golf cart. She needed distance and a physical distraction.

“Are you an avid golfer?” He was athletic and had a tightly muscular body.

He was wearing reflective sunglasses so it was impossible to get a read on him. “I don’t play at a competitive level, but I’m considered adequate.”

She silenced her instinct not to ask personal questions. “What drew you to this place?”

They kept walking. “I was having a pint in Dublin and overheard a few men say this place was cursed. I had remembered coming here with my dad and playing the course a few times. It was where I learned to play.”

She stopped and turned to him. “So you knew this place was a challenge before deciding to invest? Or did that drive you to take a risk?”

“I’m not interested in methodical or easy. It’s one of the reasons I’m not drawn to Breen.”

They continued walking and she thought about his answer. Why did he seek out risks? Was it to prove his worth? Or did he enjoy the adrenaline rush? Olivia had told her that he was into extreme sports. The more difficult the better.

“I’m not sure that resurrecting Breen will be easy. Companies focused on the garment industry have tough competition in the global marketplace.”

“Nothing is certain, but the sheer size and scope of this project is daunting. I intend to breathe new life into it. I’d like to play this course occasionally and think of my father.”

His admission surprised her. It must have been tough to lose his father at such a young age. He had been seventeen years old and the media had discovered Olivia as the forgotten daughter. She’d read about his family after their brief encounter at the gala. She had been unfair to him, but the grief surrounding her own mother’s death had been on her mind and she had blamed Oliver Bolles in some tangential way. He had been the one to make a comment to her father about purchasing the old relic. Her father had insisted that the great Oliver Bolles must have some inside knowledge. The comment had led to years of struggle and disappointment for her family. The stress had been too much for her mother’s fragile health.

“So you have never played golf?”

She needed to hold on to some happy memories and not be sucked into a discussion about the struggle of this place. “No. As a small child my grandparents would take me to miniature golf, but that never translated to an actual love of the game.”

He laughed. “I don’t think mini putt putt courses qualify as golf.”

“Did you play miniature golf as a child?” She should probably stay away from questions about his childhood.

She waited for his answer, but her eyes were drawn to ocean in the distance.

“No. My father started taking me to actual golf courses at five years old. It didn’t matter that the age limit was seven or eight. No one told him no and I learned to play.”

Bridget realized she was enjoying herself. The sun was warm, but the wind coming through the course cooled everything. The course had changed tremendously and walking it with William gave her the chance to enjoy the slow pace of the day and collect her thoughts. This place didn’t hold the same power over her anymore. She no longer felt it had defeated her family. Somehow the changes and the intervening time had washed away the feelings of loss and defeat.

She could see that huge machines had changed the terrain. “That is an extreme sand pit.”

William looked over the landscape and ran a hand through his hair. “It needs to be challenging. For The Donne to survive, it has to become relevant again.”

She turned towards him. “So you are hoping to appeal to both the professionals and the tourists?”

He had a way of looking at her that made her thoughts about the business hard to access. “Hopefully the committed amateurs as well.” Everything about him was so intense and made her think of his qualities as a man and not the marketing campaign.

The sound of the machinery caught her attention. It had hit a solid surface and the engine sounded labored.

“There are gigantic rock formations just below the surface. We should head back or we will be late for lunch with your father.”

They walked back over the sweeping lawns, being careful not to disrupt the work that was happening.

“I’m not sure you need any advice. You made it sound as if this project wouldn’t finish, but it looks to be well underway. And your management team seemed ready for any obstacle or challenge.”

“The budget is the issue. We will complete it, but the costs are out of control. We need to lessen the labor and the machine costs.”

He opened the door to the Land Rover. She said, “I don’t know if my father can offer any advice. That was his issue as well. But he didn’t think about the money, only the goal.”

William placed his hand on her arm. “I’ve found that it is worth having conversations with the previous owners. It’s impossible to predict what advice or comment might be helpful.” He stepped back and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t push him. I know it must be hard.”

He closed the door and walked around the vehicle. Bridget mused over the new sides of William she saw today. He was an interesting mix of absolute force and empathy and understanding.

***

After a short drive, William pulled up near a stone pub that was within walking distance of her father’s new cottage. Tom must already be inside. She guessed that he was probably already on first name basis with the owner. Her father generally used the local pub as his social life.

Bridget stepped inside the pub first and scanned the bar for her father. He was sitting at a table speaking with a waitress but stood and walked over when he noticed her.

“Bridget.” He wrapped her in a tight hug and she was relieved that he was happy.

“Tom, I’d like you to meet William Bolles. William, this is my father, Thomas North.”

William reached out and shook his hand, saying, “It’s a pleasure, Mr. North.”

“Tom. No one calls me Mr. North.”

They followed her father back to his table and the waitress came over.

“I’d like the house stout.”

“A water, please,” Bridget said.

They glanced at the specials board. William asked, “Do you have any recommendations?”

“You can’t go wrong with bangers and mash. But they offer plenty of options.”

Bridget looked at the menu and decided on a salad, but when the waitress came over, she ordered a chick pea stew. Both her father and William ordered the bangers and mash, and she handed the menus back to the server.

Her father wore a striped polo shirt with baggy shorts. “I couldn’t believe it when Bridget told me that her new boss owned The Donne.”

William smiled and nodded. “The connections between our families are interesting.”

Tom said, “It’s odd the way things turn out. Your father once told me in passing that he thought the locals should take over The Donne and bring it back to life. I get lots of advice, but in this case I took it. It’s strange now that his son owns the place.”

William looked surprised. “Did you know my father well?”

“No. Everyone in this part knew who he was, but he didn’t often speak with the riffraff. It was a comment over a pint. I was at a wedding in a fancy hotel and escaped to the bar area for brief time. A conversation came about and he turned to me and said something should be done about the old course. He had remembered going there, but it had fallen into disrepair.”

“He spent time in this area, but I didn’t know that he was known by the local community.”

“The Bolles family owned an old manor house here and he would visit each year.”

William looked uncomfortable. Maybe the family had a local scandal? “Tom, getting back to The Donne. Have you been by recently?”

Her father shook his head and took a sip of his lager.

“I’d like to give you a tour. We hired a firm a year ago to redesign the course and increase the difficulty level while keeping some of the key elements. I’m trying to get one of the major events to use the course.”

“I didn’t have a problem with how the course was laid out. It was plenty difficult.”

“The idea is, to attract outsiders, it needs to host a major tournament. If this is achieved, then professionals will come. This area is stunning and increased tourism would help the local community.”

“I wish you luck. My partners and I tried for years to salvage the place. I would spend time there and feel a connection to the history, but in the end it only brought misery.”

“Why misery?”

Bridget intervened. “I don’t think we need to bring all of this up.”

“It’s fine,” Tom said. “I was convinced the harder I worked, it would eventually pay off. I thought if I gave up I would be throwing away everything I had worked for. I should have seen that I didn’t have the resources to make a go of it.”

The waitress brought their food and asked if they would like another drink. Her father declined and William did as well.

“All businessmen fail at some point,” Will said. “It is the lessons learned from the failure that move you forward.”

Tom shook his head. “I gave it five years of my time and energy. My wife died shortly after the bankruptcy, and I realized that I had neglected my family.”

“I’m sorry about your wife. You must miss her greatly.”

“She was my one great love and always believed in me. That was why it was so hard.”

Bridget couldn’t believe her father was sharing so freely with William. Had he met him as a boy? Did Will come to this area with his father?

“If you are willing to come to The Donne,” Will said, “I’d like to get your opinion on a few of the problems we are having.”

“You don’t need my advice. I didn’t know what I was doing.” His admission surprised her. Usually he insisted on explaining how he could have done things differently. Maybe he’d finally moved on and didn’t want to go back?

“My guess is that you learned a tremendous amount about the place. One of the issues is that the local laborers don’t want to work on the course and we have to bring machinery in from far away. The cost is much higher.”

“I can’t help you with that.”

“Why are the locals so reluctant to work at The Donne?”

Her father looked down at his plate. Did he know something that he didn’t want to share with William? She had never heard him speak about a resentment of the locals. They seemed to love The Donne. It was a place for years where weddings would take place and important events would be celebrated.

Bridget asked, “Tom, I’ve never heard you say that the locals refused to work there. Why would they?”

“Bridget, it’s not for me to say. The past should be left alone.”

“I have a thick skin,” William said. “Don’t worry about insulting me.”

Tom studied him a moment, then said, “There was a scandal involving your father. It’s the Bolles name. I don’t know that people trust it.”

“What type of scandal?”

“Your father seduced a local widow and left her pregnant. It was about the time that he gave me the advice to purchase The Donne, but at the time I didn’t know about the scandal.”

“I don’t understand. Why would people care all of these years later? Relationships fall apart for many reasons.”

“The area surrounding The Donne is a small community. The widow, Mary Blair, was a schoolteacher and her husband had died the year before. She had fallen in love with your father and then found out he had a family. He had lied to her. She had her child and had to live with the shame of it.”

***

William sat back. He couldn’t believe that Tom North was telling him about another infidelity. Mary Blair had never approached the family or the media. Maybe the story wasn’t accurate? “I’m not sure what to tell you. I have never heard of this.”

“She and her son moved away years ago. But it tarnished the Bolles name. The family closed up the manor house and as far as I know, they haven’t been back.”

Why hadn’t any of his business executives heard of this? Had they been afraid to tell him? Or his aunt and uncle? He needed to escape the pub. The food he had eaten was beginning to churn uncomfortably in his stomach. Would he be ill? His father had betrayed the family another time. It would devastate his mother.

“How many years ago did this happen?”

Tom North was trying to come up with a date. Meanwhile, Will wanted to upend the table and walk out. Why would his father do this?

“I think less than twenty years ago but not by much. Bridget would have been eight or nine years old.”

Did Bridget know about this? Was this why she had been so righteous and demanding a year ago? He glanced at her and she looked uncomfortable.

“I had nothing to do with any of this. I don’t know why people would blame this on me.”

“It’s the name. Bolles. In this area, scandal is not forgotten and the family is judged.”

“I can’t imagine that this situation can be rectified.”

Bridget said, “Find Mary Blair and make peace with her and her child.”

He stood and motioned for the check. “We should go. Thank you for sharing this information.”

Tom stood. “I’m sorry for your troubles.”

William handed the server a few bills without looking at the bill. “I’ll be touch. You should come and take a look at the course.”

He shook Tom’s hand and walked out of the pub. Was this why most locals had refused to work with his firm? Why only a few would and then overcharged for their services?

Bridget joined him on the sidewalk. He needed to be alone but would take her home. He headed to his vehicle and she followed him.

Tom North was a nice guy, but he had no idea he would drop a bombshell. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. He hadn’t known his father spent so much time here. He thought it had only been an occasional holiday.

Pulling up near Bridget’s flat, he hoped she would get out without a word.

“You should come in for tea. You are in shock, William.”

“I’m not. Believe it or not, this is not that unusual.”

“That is not true. Finding out you have another sibling, a further connection to your father, is life changing.”

“It hasn’t been proven true.”

She touched his shoulder. “Come inside. Please.”

***

Bridget watched as he shut the engine off and undid his seatbelt. What could she possibly say to him that would help? It was a terrible way to learn that he had a sibling. Was there a decent way? Being an only child, she had no experience with siblings, but she had felt a longing for someone to share a family history with. Maybe this young man would bring William joy or maybe he was rotten and would be the family’s downfall?

Her stomach tightened and she climbed out of the vehicle. He was in shock and needed her help. She couldn’t send him home to Mrs. Blake yet.

Leading him into her rented flat, she motioned to the small sitting area and went to put the kettle on. Why did tea help when someone was in shock? Maybe it was the ritual. Something to do with your hands.

She brought him a mug and placed it in his hands. He sat on the edge of the rose-patterned sofa. William looked out of place in this outdated flat.

“Are you angry?” He looked as handsome as ever. She had seen photographs of Oliver, and William looked like his father. His short dark blond hair and blue eyes were the same, but William had a stronger jawline and was more handsome.

“I’ve experienced a range of emotions in the last hour, and yes, anger is among them.”

“I’m sorry this is happening.”

He looked straight into her eyes. “Did you know?”

She shook her head. “No. I asked my father while you were leaving the pub why he hadn’t mentioned it to me. He didn’t think it was important. It wasn’t until you were asking why the locals would be reluctant to work at The Donne that it occurred to him that you didn’t know.”

William placed his mug down on the table. “I had no idea that my father had another relationship nor did I know that his family owned a manor house here. I’ll have to ask my aunt and uncle.”

“The child couldn’t have been more than a year or two old when your father died. Maybe they thought it was best to leave the situation alone.”

His voice rose and he threw up his hands. “And then not say something for all of these years? I’ve been living in Ireland for five years. I bought The Donne two years ago. My family couldn’t tell me the truth?”

There was no going back. He would need to face this. “If they owned a house here, then a servant or someone would have mentioned it to them.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask them about it.”

“You may find that you like Mary Blair and her child. It might be a good thing.”

“She may have remarried and want nothing to do with the Bolles name and will want to shield her child.”

“The boy must be eighteen or nineteen.”

“Your father said it was a boy?”

She nodded. “Nothing needs to happen today. Take some time and think about how to approach them. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. In the end, this is a reflection on your father, not on you.”

“I should go. I need to be alone.” They both stood up at the same time.

He reached forward and pressed his lips to hers in a fleeting kiss. “I appreciate your kindness around this. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

He was unguarded and vulnerable. Tomorrow he would regret that she saw him like this. It had to be painful. It reminded her of how horrible she had been to him when they had first met. Why did she expect so much from him? He was a Bolles but just a child when his father had caused so much heartache.

Chapter 7

A week later, Bridget got an early morning summons from William to meet him at the Breen Hat Company. She hadn’t seen him since their intense conversation. The Operations Manager had quit and the place was reported to be in turmoil. Walking the few blocks over to Breen, she questioned William’s strategy with the company. He had given them an influx of capital but hadn’t communicated with them in several weeks. Her days had been tied up working on the marketing plan for the golf resort with his executive team.

Deciding not to invade his privacy, she hadn’t asked him if he had made contact with his younger brother. William had extended an offer of employment to her father and he was busy organizing the pro shop.

Passing through the wrought iron gate by the side entrance, she saw William waiting for her. He was dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit that showcased his wealth and body. He wasn’t trying to put the owners of Breen at ease.

When she got close to him, he said, “We have to make a few decisions today. Apparently, Breen was unable to continue functioning without input from us.”

He seemed distracted and like he would rather not be here. It would be better if he gave her an idea of what he expected and then left it to her. “It does seem a little unfair to purchase the company and then not give them any indication of your future plans.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “They are not even on my radar. I have no plans. Hopefully you do.”

His reaction surprised her. She assumed he would micro-manage every decision, but he wanted to be let off the hook. “I haven’t thought of them much as The Donne has taken all of my attention, but I can throw myself into their issues if you would like.”

“Alex can take up the slack at The Donne. It would be helpful if you would spend some time here.”

“I need some direction from you.”

She met his gaze and had the feeling that he wasn’t thinking about the hat company. She wasn’t either. Stepping back, she waited for his answer.

“You know the overall investment. Basically they need to reorganize the main business functions so they are breaking even within the year. You will need to hire an operations manager.”

“Are you coming inside?” She stood waiting for his response.

“No. I’ll be back by six o’clock and will expect you to have managed the crisis and have a working plan. Call on the members of my executive team if you need them. We can talk about the specifics over dinner.”

She wanted to argue with him and insist he take more of a role, but she remained silent.

“Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

She turned away from him and went in search of the owners. It worried her. William was giving her too much freedom. She had attended the dinner in London and had met the couples that had placed their money with him. She helped him convince them that it was a good investment, revamping the Breen Hat Company. If the business didn’t turn around, they would lose their investment. The employees would lose their jobs as well. Why wasn’t William taking this more seriously?

The receptionist greeted her politely and, after calling upstairs, sent her up to Patrick Breen. The shop floor was oddly quiet and she felt her stomach tighten. Had others left as well?

Climbing the steel staircase, Bridget was careful not to catch her heels. She opened the fireproof steel door and walked into the run-down management office.

Patrick Breen, a small man with grey hair in his late sixties, greeted her. He led her into his office and closed the door.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. North. We have been waiting for someone to come and tell us what the plans are.”

She took a seat by his desk and waited for him to sit. There was an overflowing stack of papers and other items covering the entire desk. “I don’t think there is a plan yet. William Bolles has been caught up with another business and thought with an infusion of money that you would be able to handle everything for the time being.”

Patrick Breen shrugged. “I didn’t know how he wanted the money to be spent.”

Did they not handle their accounts or pay payroll? “What do you mean?”

Patrick sat behind the desk. “I couldn’t use it to pay payroll. What will happen when it runs out?”

She pulled a file out of her bag. It held the legal documents and she remembered seeing a schedule of disbursements. “The purpose of the money is to keep Breen afloat and only ten percent was disbursed. You should pay your workers.”

He wrung his hands. “The money is in the account. But without permission, we didn’t know to proceed. Should we cut salaries? What type of budget will be implemented?”

She stood up. They were a disaster. “You should instruct payroll to disburse any owed monies today according to the established pay rates and salaries. I’ll start working on a budget with your operations manager.”

“He left yesterday. He couldn’t take the stress.”

“Should I call him or would you rather hire someone else?”

“That is up to you, Ms. North.”

“No. I don’t know the person. William Bolles purchased Breen because it is a good, solid company that makes a quality product. He understands it will take time to resurrect the business, but you need to take a role in helping that happen.”

“I don’t know what to do or I would have done it.”

She kept her voice neutral. “Let’s get your operations manager back. Let him know payroll is guaranteed for the foreseeable future. I’ll assemble an executive management team meeting for Monday so decisions can be made. William is stopping in later today. Will that work?”

Patrick stood up and shook her hand. “Thank you, Ms. North.”

Breen needed new management. Patrick was not a leader and he was too worn out to have a vision. “I’m going to spend the day here and interview different employees. You should convince your operations manager to come in. I’ll use the conference room?”

William was throwing her to the wolves. He had her working nonstop on the marketing plan for The Donne and now he expected her to swoop in and solve the problems here. The issues were complicated by global economic pressures and not related to small adjustments in product or inventory. It was beyond her expertise.

She met with the accounting clerk and went over the vendor invoices that needed to be dealt with and then asked for a report of what Breen was owed by couture houses and boutiques. When she asked about marketing, she realized that they relied on word of mouth and reputation. Maybe she could make a difference in helping them promote themselves.

The overall attitude was somber and she was exhausted by being an optimistic cheerleader all day. William arrived at four thirty in the afternoon and the shop floor was desolate. Bridget was doing a walk-through with the owner and the operations manager, Brian Feeney, and watched him walk onto the shop floor. He didn’t look particularly happy. He had all the patience in the world for a failing golf course but wanted nothing to do with a garment manufacturer.

***

He hated this place. It reminded him of the old world. The older generations would make things by hand and the shop hadn’t updated with new processes or technology-driven machinery. It needed to be closed down, but neither Olivia nor Bridget would agree. He had called Olivia a few hours ago and she had given him her rationalization for keeping this place again.

Walking over to join Bridget with the owner and manager, he realized he had missed her today. He was getting used to her rapid-fire questions and her continual pitching of new concepts and ideas. The greatest challenge had been not showing any reaction to her physically. He was enjoying watching her fashionable parade of skirts and dresses. He had never taken an interest in women’s clothing, but she was different. Why was that? She was feminine and captivating with her curious looks and generous smile. Was it her slender body with those perfect breasts?

He looked forward to interacting with her throughout the day and watching her solve issues or negotiate tough decisions. She had earned the respect of his management team with her well-presented ideas. But if he had sex with her, she wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“William, this is Brian Feeney, the operations manager, and you already know the owner, Patrick Breen.”

“Gentleman.” He shook their hands and glanced at Bridget. Her feigned innocence didn’t fool him. She was judging his reaction. She was waiting for him to lose patience with their lack of leadership and enthusiasm.

“Why don’t we head to the conference room? I’d like to discuss a few ideas.” He placed a hand on her lower back and waited for the owner and manager to head upstairs.

He leaned towards her. “I would imagine you have a few ideas of your own.”

“I do, actually.” She held his gaze and he wanted to push her up against a nearby steel column and capture her mouth. But instead he moved away from her. He needed to refocus his mind or he would get upstairs and not have a coherent thought.

He decided not to sit down in the conference room. “Breen is a viable company. You have a sought after, high quality product in a niche market. However, your social media and marketing presence is nonexistent. You also need to update your shop floor. Ms. North will help you find the right consultant to drag Breen into this century and she will oversee the revamping of your marketing presence.”

His rant was met with silence. He didn’t look at Bridget. She would have to soften his words and slowly bring them along.

Patrick Breen began to explain why change was not a good idea and William silenced him with a movement of his hand. “This is not up for negotiation. If you want Breen to survive then you need to reinvent yourselves and the company. If it is beyond your capability, then resign.”

His words were met with silence. He was satisfied. “Ms. North? We have another engagement tonight.”

He shook both men’s hands and waited for her to gather her belongings.

Walking out she said, “That was harsh.”

He held the door for her. “I saved both of us hours of tedious conversation. Either they show a willingness to change or they will be gone.”

Her voice was matter of fact. “It needed to be approached in a gentler way. I know they need to change, but they have fifty or sixty years of combined experience. You can’t throw that away.”

Meeting her gaze, he said, “You can spend time speaking with them and slowly bringing them along. I have no interest.” In fact, he had other interests that he would much rather concern himself with.

He guided her to his Audi and decided to take her out to dinner. She was too much of a distraction to take her back to his place. He shouldn’t be alone with her.

It would have been easier if Olivia had not intervened. She had been interested in saving Breen, but he was beginning to consider if she had purposely thrown Bridget into his path. On the phone today, Olivia had sung her praises and let him know that anyone who let her go would be regretful.

But he would not be played that easily. Bridget may be enticing, but he would resist her charm. Life was to be lived and he had no interest in settling down too early. He had every intention of continuing to seek out adventures and push himself to new levels. He was not about to invite someone into his life that would want to rein him in.

***

Bridget was wrung out emotionally and wanted to retreat to her flat. The Breen employees held so much worry and anxiety about the future of the company that the weight of it sat heavily on her shoulders.

“Let’s go to Temple Bar tonight.”

“Without reservations, I doubt we would get in.”

William pressed a button and with a voice command, dialed the restaurant. Within moments, it was arranged and he navigated heavy traffic through the city.

Temple Bar drew tourists and those with deep pockets. The neighborhood was charming with cobblestone streets, art galleries, and architectural splendor.

“Did you want to stop by your flat to change?”

“Do you mind?”

“I’ll make a few calls while you cleanse away the tension.”

“It was a stressful day. The fear and worry is palpable throughout the place.”

He double-parked so she could climb out. “If that doesn’t shift then I doubt Breen will survive the year.”

“Twenty minutes?” She was pushing her luck, but she wanted to shower and dress in something less work related.

“I’ll wait.” He was getting Alex on the phone when she closed the door.

Running up the flight of stairs to her flat, she tried to let go of the worry. She had the entire evening to ask him about his plans for Breen and to try and get information out of him. She wanted to help resurrect the company. More than fifty employees were depending on the outcome. Some had been with Breen for years and years and knew little else.

Bridget stepped into a hot shower and lathered with lavender soap. She could already see a path forward for Breen. With a reimagining of their marketing materials and presence, she should be able to help them gain market share. They were a known quantity with a superior product. The issue was the cost. It was a reality of doing business that most products could be made cheaper in faraway places.

Drying off, she brushed out her hair and only lightly blow dried it. William was waiting. She found a short black couture dress that she had picked up at a sample sale a year ago but had only worn once or twice. Finding patterned silk stockings, she quickly dressed and then put on four-inch heels. She had never been to Temple Bar and hoped that William didn’t think she was too dressed, but it was a welcome distraction.

She picked up her clutch, added her keys and then touched up her makeup before heading downstairs. It had been just over twenty minutes and she saw his metallic gray car across the street.

Waiting a moment for the traffic to stop, Bridget ignored two college-age men that called out to her. They were obviously harmless and on their way to a pub, but she didn’t want to offer any encouragement.

Climbing into the car a moment later, she had the impression that William was irritated. Was it waiting or his phone conversation?

He gripped the steering wheel tightly and jammed the gear lever accidently.

“Did I take too long?”

“No. I spoke with Alex.” His tone was unconvincing.

Why didn’t he want to tell her? “You are irritated for some reason.”

He met her gaze. “It’s the dress.”

“I don’t understand.”

Why would her dress bother him? It was appropriate for going out. It was fitted and had a satin band at the waist and a deep-V illusion neckline with a lace bodice and tulle inset.

“You wore it the night we met.” She thought back to the gala and tried to visualize herself speaking with him. She couldn’t remember the particular dress that she wore that evening. The night was so blurry in her mind that she barely remembered getting home afterward. She had had too much to drink and woke up the next day with a horrible hangover, but the practical part of her had hung up the dress and climbed into bed wearing an old shirt.

Could it mean that he’d thought about her after their exchange? “Should I change?”

He started the powerful car and pulled out into traffic. “No. It’s not important.”

It was odd that he remembered what she wore a year ago. Men didn’t usually. Her father never had a clue about her wardrobe or the importance of a particular dress. She remembered coming downstairs for breakfast in a nightgown and her father saying she looked nice.

“Have you forgiven me for being rude that night?”

“There is nothing to forgive. You were merely expressing your opinion.”

“I was worried about my father and for some reason put tons of meaning into a throwaway comment. In the end, my father was responsible for his decisions, not yours.”

“Why do you call him Tom and not papa or dad?”

“It started when I was a teenager. My mother worked all the time and I looked after him. Sometimes I would have to fetch him from the pub and I hated the way bystanders would look at me when they realized that he was my father. I started calling him Tom and he didn’t object.”

***

Bridget surprised him at each turn. When they first met, he had assumed she was a beautiful party girl without any real responsibilities. She had seemed confident and unreachable. He was beginning to figure out that it was a façade she cultivated to keep others out.

“That must have been hard for you.” He reminded himself that he needed her involvement in the business and not to make the mistake of getting involved with her personally. Unfortunately, she had a way of getting under his skin. He was fascinated by her. The way she walked into a room, or the things she decided to question or even the empathy she showed to others. But he needed to block out her beautiful body, her kind nature and her inquisitiveness.

“It wasn’t perfect, but I had parents who loved me. I’m grateful for that.”

“My parents split up often and the ups and downs were tough to manage.”

She gave him a heartfelt look. “Have you been able to connect with your brother?”

How could she ask him that? What if the stories were wrong? “I have a private investigator working on it, and so far it seems to be a truthful account. I’ve seen a picture of the teenager and he is the spitting image of my father and Olivia.”

“What is his name?”

He resisted telling her, then realized everyone would soon know. “Oliver William Mancini.”

She sounded perplexed. “His mother called him Oliver? I don’t know that I would have done that.”

“It’s loaded, but she must have thought he was going to acknowledge his son, but within months he died in the motorcycle accident.” He slowed the car and looked for parking on the street.

“Have you met his mother?”

He didn’t want to continue discussing the issue. It was going to be difficult to contain the press coverage around it and it had the potential to hurt his business. Once again his investors would be reminded that the Bolles name wasn’t associated with a strong moral compass or even loyalty. Why would the wealthy want to continue working with him? “I met her briefly. She works as a librarian about four hours from here.”

“Will she allow you to see Oliver?”

“Actual proof is needed. She had a paternity test conducted when Oliver was born and my father was refusing to acknowledge him. I’m trying to determine the authenticity of the testing. Apparently, she decided not to pursue legal action against the estate when he died tragically.”

“But you and your sisters have missed out on getting to know him.”

“She said when my father died tragically, she decided to raise the child on her own. But it has had a downside. He is not keen on meeting me or my sisters.”

He shouldn’t be telling her all of this. He doubted that she would disclose the information, but it was muddying the waters. He was allowing the relationship to veer into a more personal connection.

He parked on the street and turned the engine off. “Can you walk a few blocks?”

“On bricks or cement.” She met his gaze and he remembered walking with her through the park. He had never been drawn to high fashion, but she was slowly changing his mind. The exquisiteness of her sexy stockings and dress heated his blood and made him want to explore her body.

He leapt out of the car and walked around to guide her onto the sidewalk. In her heels, she reached his jawline. It would be so easy to pull her into his arms and lose himself in her embrace. Did she want the same or did she want to keep him at arm’s length?

Placing his hand on her lower back, he drew her slightly closer as they passed a group of people on the cobblestone.

“Have you been to Temple Bar before?”

He opened the door to the restaurant for her. “No. I’m excited to visit such an iconic place.”

They were guided to a secluded table and he noticed several patrons who watched her every move. She looked happy and ready to enjoy the evening. The problems at Breen today were pushed to the background. He resisted bringing up the failing company.

***

Bridget opened the elaborate menu the waiter handed to her. She tried to distance herself from the desire she was feeling. Nothing good would come from giving in to the attraction building between them. She had blocked out her first meeting with him. It had been so embarrassing, she wanted to crawl under the table thinking about it. He had brought out the worst in her. She’d wanted to challenge his beliefs about his family and elicit a response from him. But she had been unfair, using a throwaway comment his father had made to assign blame for the slow destruction of her family. It had been the milestone of her mother’s death that had triggered the response, but she found it difficult to forgive her emotional outburst.

“Are you thinking about a strategy for Breen?”

She looked up at him. “Not exactly. But I should be. It will take some new thinking, but it can be turned around.”

“Do you think Patrick Breen is too set in his ways to change?”

She contemplated her response. She didn’t want to rush to take action without fully understanding all of the elements. “We may need to take a longer term view and see how he responds to requests for change. He has been in survival mode for a number of years, trying to hold on until the economy improves.”

“As the leader, he needs to be able to predict the future.”

“That is a little unrealistic.”

His eyes narrowed on her and her body began to heat. “Running a company and keeping it profitable takes many strengths. Strengths he may not have.”

It was nearly impossible to concentrate with his gaze piercing into her soul. “Don’t expect too much at the start. Removing him would only worry the clients and employees further. If he can become part of the solution then the company will be better off.”

Their waiter appeared with the bottle of wine and went through the ritual of offering William a taste. The young man poured them each a glass of the expensive vintage and retreated quietly from the table.

William raised his glass to her. “To success, Bridget. May this project provide enough challenge to keep you interested but not so much that you give up.”

She took a sip of the delicious wine and thought about his words. She wouldn’t give up, even if it was tough.  “What happens if Breen can’t be turned around?”

William glanced over the menu. “I’ll sell the rights to manufacture the product to an overseas venture and recoup as much of my investment as I can.”

“How could you start this process with a plan for giving up? Don’t you care what happens to the employees?”

He looked almost bored. “Not particularly. The world is constantly changing and they need to be ready for that and not insulated from the risk. If Breen can’t turn a profit within the year, then it should be closed.”

She tried to keep her voice even and controlled. “So you are saying that you might fail?” How could he sit there and accept that Breen might fail?

“I don’t see selling or reorganizing a business unit as a failure. Failure would be doing what Patrick Breen has been doing. Continuing on the same path yet expecting different results.”

She thought about the families that relied on the company. “I want to see Breen succeed and keep manufacturing in Ireland.”

He took a sip of wine. “I’m not surprised. You are Irish and knowledgeable about the industry. It was these reasons that you were chosen for the role.”

What if she did fail? What if no matter what she tried the economic realities were against her? A shocking realization struck her——she was getting into a similar situation as the one her father had embarked on all of those years ago. She would need to be less sentimental and more practical if she hoped to make the right decisions. She didn’t want to let employees go, but she also wouldn’t try to save a sinking ship. She had to be smarter than that.

“You are putting me in an impossible situation.”

“You will have the full cooperation and expertise of myself and the management group. These odds are the reason that there is a huge profit to be made.”

He could be autocratic and quick at making a decision. What if he was wrong? “What if we don’t agree?”

“I’m in charge. You need to remember that. I’ll give you a ton of freedom, but ultimately you will need to adhere to my direction.”

She would not just follow along blindly. “What if you are wrong?”

Her question was met with a brief silence. Then he leaned forward and said, “You’ll be tasked with carrying out an order that is incorrect or flawed.”

He might be playful in nature, but he was also authoritarian and overbearing.

She was beginning to realize her toughest work might be with him and not Patrick Breen. “How collaborative are you?”

He met her gaze. “I’m not. Collaboration doesn’t have a place in leadership. I’m open to ideas and willing to give my team the freedom to make mistakes, but ultimately I’m going to set the rules.”

They were going to have issues with one another. She could be collaborative but needed to be in charge of her responsibilities. She had no desire to carry out dictates from someone offsite who thought they knew best. She wanted his help; she wanted him to be part of the process.

“Do you want to order?”

She nodded. Glancing over the menu, she selected trout with a dill sauce.

The waiter appeared and took her order, then William’s order for filet mignon and Brussels sprouts.

He refilled their wineglasses and silently disappeared.

She tasted the delicious wine. “How do you see this unfolding with Breen?”

William sat back. “We need to give a briefing to the management team and decide on a path forward. It could be we change the company name and replace Patrick Breen. The brainstorming stage is unscripted, but once a plan is put in place, then you will be expected to make that happen and report back frequently.”

Bridget smoothed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What if the team takes the wrong approach? How much collective experience in the fashion world do your executives have?”

“You may not like a decision, but only if there is a compelling reason to reconsider will that happen.”

***

He watched her process his comments. She was proving to be a challenge. Bridget had the intelligence and depth to run a successful company, but she was also headstrong and would need to learn to take direction. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t care about Breen; he was far more interested in her.

“Your father seems to be settling in at the golf course. According to my manager, he spends the better part of each day helping out.”

She nodded. “He is happier than I’ve seen him in a long while.”

William’s steak was cooked to perfection, but he barely tasted it. Instead, he watched her. A memory surfaced of the first time he set eyes on her. He had felt something catch deep in his chest. He didn’t believe in love at first sight or even an overly emotional reaction to a woman. He had learned early on that women could be vindictive and self-centered. His own mother was famous for presenting a certain image to the world yet making their home life a living hell. He had missed his father terribly during those periods, but somehow Oliver would always return.

“I don’t think you have ever mentioned your mother.” He watched a veil come down over her emotions.

“It’s been nearly a dozen years since her death, but it hasn’t gotten easier. I still miss her.”

“Tell me about her.”

“I’d rather not talk about her.”

Why was she reluctant to talk about her mother? “Why? It’s been long enough. I’ve found that speaking about my father now is helpful. It allows me to put some of the memories in context.”

It allowed him to honor his father’s legacy. He was able to discuss the good things that Oliver had done and not just the troubling behaviors. His father had been an immensely good guy; he’d been concerned about those less fortunate and often did charitable acts in secret.

She glanced down at her plate. “I’ve no desire to justify my memories.”

He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “You were young when she died. Certainly an adult lens would help you put things in perspective.”

Bridget placed her fork down. “What are you referring to? What do I need to put in perspective?”

“The night we met, you accused my father of wreaking havoc on your family. You said that a comment he made to your father carried so much weight that your father acted on it without regard to anyone else. Were you speaking about your mother?” Why did he need to push her on this issue? Did her earlier accusations touch him in some way? Was it possible that his father had helped to destroy her family, even in some unknowing way?

“My mother loved my father and would have supported anything he wanted to do, even if it was the wrong thing.” Why was it so hard for her to see her mother as a living, breathing person who may have made flawed decisions?

William waved the waiter away. “Did she think that he shouldn’t invest in The Donne?”

Bridget shook her head. “I don’t know. She didn’t share her thoughts on the subject. Instead she kept working harder at menial jobs to compensate for his dreams.”

“Maybe she shared those dreams?”

“I doubt it. She was the practical one. The one who always picked up the pieces when everything fell apart.”

“Maybe she chose that role for herself?”

***

Why was he questioning her mother’s role? Why did he care?

“Did your mother play a part in your father’s deceptions?” She was being unkind and unfair but couldn’t stop herself.

William held his hands up. “Yes, she did. By being emotionally unavailable to him. So he sought connections elsewhere. He was responsible for his actions ultimately, but she had a part to play.”

His openness surprised her. Why would he choose to admit his parents’ shortcomings to her? Maybe by admitting the issues, he could distance himself?

“What type of relationship do you have with your mother?”

William ran a hand through his hair. “It is at times difficult and at times fine. She expects too much from me and so I distance myself. There are other times that I enjoy her company.”

He was lucky to have a mother in this world. “I’ve seen pictures of her in the media. She is a very beautiful woman.”

William signaled for the check and the server immediately cleared the table before bringing the check.

The restaurant was bustling. Bridget glanced around and realized she had enjoyed herself and had even let her guard down a slight bit.

Stepping onto the cobblestone, William pulled her closer and said, “I’d like you to come back home with me this evening.”

She could see desire building in his gaze. He was giving her a choice. Did she want to act on their growing attraction or keep herself in a firmly established professional role?

“I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

He pulled her away from the crowded sidewalk and into an ally near the building. Reaching forward, he lightly touched her face before capturing her mouth in a playful kiss. His body shielded her from the street, and the only thing she could see was him. Her eyes closed and she enjoyed the feel of his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.

Reaching out, she grasped the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him closer. His warmth enveloped her and she was lost. William placed a hand on the stone building behind her and used his other hand to hold her head steady and he explored her mouth fully.

Gasping for breath, she pulled back slightly before seeking his mouth again. She could feel desire building in her core and she wanted to go home with him, but her rational mind kept throwing up obstacles. She knew to lose herself to him would only complicate matters for both of them.

“Bridget, come home with me.”

“It would complicate things.”

He placed both hands on either side of her head and looked into her eyes. “Complications can be good.”

She didn’t want to turn him down. What if she stepped out of the impossible standards she set for herself and just gave in to desire this once? Would it be such a bad thing? Could they maintain a professional distance?

“I’d want you to keep it a secret.”

He physically retreated from her. “No. If we embark on an affair then it has to be out in the open.”

She touched his arm. “I don’t want others to know that we are crossing business and personal boundaries.”

He faced her fully. “You are over thinking this. It’s not anyone else’s place to have an opinion.”

She wanted him to take her in his arms again, but was it worth the risk? Would others judge her?

“I can’t, William. I’m sorry.”

He guided her back to the sports car without saying anything. She was making a mistake, but she couldn’t risk her professional life. She needed the respect of others if she was going to make a difference at Breen. So why did she feel so lost? She wanted a physical relationship with William. It had been almost two years since her last relationship ended badly. Her boyfriend at the time accused her of being married to her career. But she needed the security of knowing that she could provide for herself and help her father. She couldn’t go back to the feeling of powerlessness that poverty had instilled in her. If it hadn’t been for her mother’s sister, she would have never had a chance in the fashion industry.

He drove through the city streets without saying a word until he pulled off onto a dark side street adjacent to a park.

“Why are we here?”

William turned off the engine and opened the first few buttons on his shirt. “A compromise of sorts. A few stolen kisses at night can remain our secret.”

Her blood heated watching him. He removed his suit jacket and tossed it in the back seat. Excitement skittered over her skin. What did he intend to do?

William turned and ran a hand up her leg until he stopped at her dress. “I’ve spent the entire dinner thinking about your stockings, love.”

“Why?” Women wore stockings, why was he so intrigued?

“You are incredibly sexy and I wanted to see what you have on under your dress.”

She wanted him to continue his exploration, but he was waiting for her. What did he want from her?

The small enclosed space and leather seats wouldn’t allow her to move closer to him. What did he imagine happening beyond a few kisses? She wanted more from him. A heightened awareness settled over her.

“I want you to run your fingers along my length.” His rough voice sounded loud to her ears.

“Bridget.” He lightly touched the edge of her dress and her senses went haywire. She wanted him to explore her body fully.

She reached forward and touched his rigid shaft through his pants. She squeezed hard and heard his indrawn breath.

He moved his hand from her dress and held her chin as he kissed her properly. She tried to move closer to him, but the gearshift stopped her. Why hadn’t she gone home with him? They would be in a proper bed and not trading kisses in this confined space.

William moved his hand and caressed her breasts through her sheer dress, finding the erect nipple and applying just the right amount of pressure. Shifting in her seat, she undid his belt clasp before finding the zipper. He moved and undid the button for her before capturing her mouth again.

Pulling back, he said, “I want things from you that are not possible in this space.”

She explored his length more fully and released his zipper so she could enjoy the feel of his smooth skin.

He moved his hand back to her silk-covered legs and pushed aside her dress and his mouth sought her neck. She could barely hold still as his hand pushed past the silk of her stockings and caressed the bare skin at the top of her thighs. He pushed aside the scrap of lace covering her and she could feel moisture pooling inside of her.

He lightly stroked her feminine core and she shifted her legs to give him more access. He groaned into her neck and she began to rhythmically stroke his length as desire built inside of her. She was beyond caring that they were in a car parked beside a park. Somehow the darkness gave her courage.

He pushed two fingers inside of her and she nearly leapt off the seat. “Focus, love.”

She couldn’t focus and was completely out of control. She tightened her hold on him and was rewarded with a surge of desire spiraling inside of her. He kept stroking her, winding her tighter and tighter until he traced her lips with his tongue and then simultaneously plunged his fingers inside of her while his tongue plundered her mouth. She felt a hot liquid explode over her hand as she shattered into a cascade of pleasure.

He retreated from her and straightened his clothing.

She adjusted her dress, but her body was sensitive and pleasure soaked. How could she ever recover from this erotic encounter?

“I can see why you prefer stockings to pantyhose.” He started the car and she reached for her seatbelt.

She had never considered the easy access that stockings gave a woman. For her, it was about comfort and a heightened fashion sense. But if she were being honest, she wouldn’t put them on again without thinking about this encounter.

They were at her building within a few minutes and she said goodnight and climbed out of the car. It was odd: she could barely look at him, but moments ago they had been intimate. Would she regret acting so out of control tonight?

He murmured, “Sleep well.” She closed the heavy door and turned away.

What had she been thinking? She would need to face him tomorrow over a conference room table with his entire executive team looking on. Why had she lost her mind? She was beginning to obsess about him instead of thinking about the job.

Chapter 8

Bridget slipped her feet into a pair of pointy heels and placed a stack of files in her structured bag, then walked down the flight of stairs from her flat to the street. In the last few weeks a routine had emerged where she walked the few short blocks to Breen in the early morning and arrived as the doors were unlocked.

An understanding of the overall business was emerging, but she continued to have questions about the financial management of the company. She had asked Jeremy to help her review the accounting practices again. They were shipping a decent amount of product, but the company accounts continued to show a loss each week.

She arrived at the same time as Patrick Breen and greeted him warmly. It had taken a considerable amount of time for the older man to let down his guard around her.

Bridget had insisted that Patrick Breen join Jeremy and her for the discussion. They needed to be able to understand the financials so they could make some strategic decisions. For Breen to emerge from this process a different company, they needed to make sweeping changes.

Walking into the general office space, she said, “I’m going to present a strategic plan for the company in a few days. We are going to have to outline what will change and how that change will be measured.”

Patrick walked away from her, calling over his shoulder, “Breen was family-owned for nearly one hundred and fifty years, surely my family understands how to run the company.”

She followed him into his office. The man was clearly rattled by the coming changes. “In a different economy, I would agree with you. But the world has changed and you need to adjust some of your business practices.” Breen had been out of options when William stepped in and purchased sixty percent of the stock.

Patrick meticulously rolled up the sleeves of his blue pressed shirt. “Bridget, nothing has changed. At Breen, we make high quality, hand-stitched hats.”

Frustration sparked in her, but she took a deep, calming breath. They had had the same conversation many times. Patrick Breen believed that it all came down to producing a quality product.

“I know the idea of change is difficult. And you may be concerned that the changes won’t improve sales or the bottom line.”

Patrick Breen turned away from her again. “I helped to build this company. I know what is needed.”

Was he saying he was not going to embrace any new ideas? “Maybe you would be happier taking an early retirement.”

Patrick scowled. “This company is my life. I won’t leave it.”

It was a hard line to walk. She needed to show deference, but she also needed to encourage change. “You must be willing to bend or grow. It is not about the quality of your products. That is the only reason Breen is still around. It is about reaching new markets, reducing costs and stimulating demand.”

Patrick threw down the file he was holding. “I can’t control those things, but I can control the product.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “You have to spend time each day with the cost accountant and listen to him and make adjustments. Change can be done in small, incremental ways.”

He nodded his head. “Okay. I can do that.”

Bridget had her doubts but stepped forward and held out her hand. His eyes widened, but he shook her hand and she said, “I hope you can.”

Walking out of his office, Bridget greeted three of the employees who worked in purchasing and sales. After helping herself to coffee in the small break room, she went into the conference room and pulled out the marketing documents. She had received proposals from three marketing firms and had to make a decision.

***

William disconnected the call from his mother and climbed out of his car. Even though the golf course was continuing to hemorrhage money, looking over the rolling hills out to the sea brought him pleasure. Not as much pleasure as last night possibly.

His mind replayed the hot encounter in his car with Bridget North. She was captivating and sexy. He wanted her in his bed, not settling for mindless stolen kisses in a car or elsewhere. She clearly intended to keep her professional life separate from her personal relationship. And he had no interest in a secretive affair. He was not his father. How could they resolve their differences?

William headed inside the conference center and began organizing his thoughts. He had maybe an hour before his team arrived. Checking his schedule, he decided to go to New York the next week for a gala his mother was organizing. It was better if he didn’t let too much time elapse between visits. It would only serve to encourage his critics. He had learned years ago that it was better to face an issue head-on than allow it to fester.

He wanted to bring Bridget. Maybe changing their location would allow her to compromise her standards.

William dialed his assistant and confirmed his schedule. He requested that his private jet be booked for the trip to New York. Bridget would satisfy his mother’s desire for him to date and could be counted on to stand up to the bitter woman. Bridget would be the perfect woman to bring to the gala. She adored the fashion world and was confident enough to walk into any room.

Pulling up the recent projections on The Donne, he noticed a small amount of improvement on spending. Somehow having Thomas North involved had softened the small community. He had mentioned to different locals that he was aware of the scandal from years ago and was seeking out the woman who had reportedly had his father’s child. He would need to tell his sisters, but first he wanted to meet with the boy.

The management team began to arrive and he noticed Bridget on the periphery. He approached her, saying, “Can we have a private chat?”

If his team was surprised, no one showed a reaction.

He led her into another room and closed the door. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

She shook her head. “No. Not particularly.” Dressed in a slim-fitting grey dress with a narrow belt, she looked every bit a fashion executive.

He sought out her gaze, but she looked down at her hands. He said, “I’d like a repeat of last night.”

She drew in a breath and a fleeting smile tugged at her lips. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

He crossed his arms. “It’s the truth. I’d like to strip off your dress and take you against the wall right now.”

Her eyes held a spark of surprise. “Last night was exciting but probably a mistake.”

He kept his tone neutral. “How so?” Why would she think it was a problem?

She gestured towards him with her hands. “I work for you. I can’t let myself become the woman who sleeps with her boss.”

Why was it such an issue for her? “So if I fire you then you would feel free to indulge me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want the shame of being fired, William.”

He stepped closer to her. “There has to be a way to work this out. Breen needs your expertise, but there is this craving between us that we can’t ignore.”

She met his gaze. “You could compromise and be willing to keep any connection between us private.”

Frustration washed over him. He had no desire to repeat his father’s mistakes. “You are ashamed of being in a relationship with me?”

Her voice didn’t falter. “Not if I weren’t employed by you. But it looks odd and then when it is over, it’ll be even more awkward.”

Why did he have to jump through so many hoops? “We can keep it private from our business associates for now, but I insist we not hide it from our families.”

She looked away. “That sounds complicated.”

He decided to ignore her concern and plow ahead. “I’m heading to New York next week and I’d like you to come. There is a notorious gala that will attract much of the fashion world that I’d like you to attend as my guest. Olivia and Fionn will be there.  You can work on Breen marketing and I’ll take care of a few loose ends.”

He reached out and touched her neck. He could feel a pulse beating erratically. “Also I’d like you to play nine holes of golf with me after this meeting.”

She stepped away from him. “Fine. But I’d like you to keep the professional and private interactions separate.”

He opened the door to the corridor and watched Bridget gracefully walk to the conference room. She was getting to him. Her demand was actually what he would normally practice——keeping his business and personal life separate. He didn’t believe in indulging in an affair with a business associate. But Bridget was different. Somehow she tempted him. He could think of little else today beyond his hot encounter with her in his vehicle.

Alex pulled out a chair for Bridget. “We should start with the golf course and other company matters and do Breen last. Does that work?”

***

Bridget reviewed her notes and attempted to push away thoughts of William. She wanted her presentation to come off without a hitch. She had spent three weeks at Breen and, with Jeremy, created a set of financials and narratives to explain what was happening and where the company needed to go.

Throughout the meeting, she noticed William challenged his managers to come up with solutions and not just issues. They seemed more positive on the golf course and when the discussion turned to marketing, Alex invited her thoughts.

A lively debate took place with William deciding to bring in a series of marketing companies to do a pitch for The Donne.

Finally William said, “Bridget, can you give us a briefing on the Breen Hat Company?”

Bridget stood and handed out copies of the financial and strategic plan. “I’m trying to figure out how they react to changes in the marketplace. They have a highly regarded product, but the pricing has remained stagnant for five years. This has to do with overseas pricing. The work is going to be around marketing initiatives and getting them to produce some of the components elsewhere. There is a fear of failure that is pervasive and it has taken a toll on employee morale.”

Alex asked, “Is there a change of leadership needed?”

“Possibly. I’ve given Patrick Breen a few projects and have helped him come up with a task list. I’m hoping he is able to translate it into measureable results.”

Merle said, “Fair enough. It is better to figure out the issues before jumping in and making massive changes.”

“Bridget, thank you for putting all of this together. Jeremy, you as well. You have both done an excellent job. But there is something not quite right. There is a sufficient amount of orders coming in, but they are losing money. The employees are paid an average wage. I’d like to know why there is a gap.”

Jeremy said, “I thought about that. It seems the owner is a perfectionist and if something isn’t to his standards then it is scrapped.”

William twisted a pen in his hand. “Do they keep track of those costs?”

Bridget answered, “No. Their system was ancient and everything was kept in hand-written journals. We have hired a cost accountant and slowly the accounts are being computerized.”

Straightening in his chair, William said, “I’d like you to find out how much material they are writing off.”

There wasn’t any wrongdoing at Breen. The employees had worked together for years and were upfront and transparent. “Patrick Breen has an impeccable reputation; I can’t imagine that they are doing something unscrupulous.”

“We have investors that are jeopardizing their money; we need to be sure.”

Bridget nodded but decided it would prove to be a futile exercise. The last thing she would want to do was offend Patrick Breen.

***

William stood and said, “I’m traveling next week. Shoot me an email if something comes up.”

The men around the table stood up and gathered their materials.

William traded a few remarks with Alex and Merle.

Arlo said to her, “Well done, Bridget. It’s difficult to step into a company and figure out how to help them move forward.”

She smiled and nodded. It had been an interesting few weeks. She realized that she was finding her place at Breen. It no longer felt odd or uncomfortable.

“Bridget, let’s head to the pro shop and see if Tom can locate a set of clubs for you.”

Alex said, “Ah, you have found new blood. Bridget, be careful. He is merciless on the course.”

She placed her laptop in her bag and walked with everyone up the modern staircase to the open foyer.

Going into Pro Shop, she noticed that the inventory was in the process of being unpacked and displays were partially assembled. The space was filled with light and had expansive views of the course. Walking over to a box of golf shirts, she pulled out a lime green shirt and inspected the quality. Running her hands over the seam, she was impressed with it.

Stepping into the room, Tom said, “I was hoping to catch sight of you. The hat place is doing without you today?” Her father looked happier than she had seen him in a long time.

She gave him a brief hug. “William has asked me to play nine holes of golf. Does the shop have sets of clubs yet?”

He gave her an incredulous stare. “I thought you didn’t like golf.”

She moved further into the shop and looked at a display of golf balls. William had the funding to properly equip the shop.

“If I’m to help with the marketing at all, I need to at least have a glimpse of why golfers would want to come.”

“The course is beautiful. You may discover a new passion.” Tom disappeared into the back room.

She had discovered a new passion, but it was better if she didn’t say anything to her father. He was overjoyed when William asked him to help out in the pro shop and she didn’t want him to worry about any awkwardness in the future if she and William parted ways.

William strode in and seemed excited. He had changed into dark blue shorts and a white golf shirt. He looked more approachable and she wondered how the afternoon would play out.

Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “I should check in at Breen today.”

He gave her a wide grin. “After we play, I’ll drop you off. But you have spent long days there the last few weeks; maybe an afternoon off isn’t a bad idea.”

Tom walked back in with a set of clubs.

William said, “She will need shoes and do we have any women’s apparel set up yet?”

Tom said, “Yes. I have to look through a few boxes.”

She took out her phone and called Patrick Breen to let him know that she was going to take the afternoon off. She needed to let her mind process all of the feedback she received today before she introduced the ideas to the Breen management.

Her father came back with a feminine-looking orange golf shirt and a white skirt along with shoes.

She took the new items of clothing and went into the woman’s locker room. The space was on the main level and reminded her of a well-appointed spa. Glancing around, she took in the soft muted tones and high-end finishes that created a sense of luxury. She opened the door to a steam room and smiled. The design team had created a space that was inviting.

Hanging her clothes in a locker, she changed into the golf outfit. Her father hadn’t given her socks so she left her stockings on. She was an imposter. She had not the slightest idea of how to play the game and didn’t welcome the idea of being at a disadvantage.

Walking back into the pro shop, she found William going over the clubs with her father and tried to appear relaxed and ready for the challenge.

“You look the part, love.”

She smiled at her father and he gave her a quizzical look. William acted much more interested than a mere boss would be and she hoped her father wouldn’t pick up on the subtle hints.

“Wish me luck.” She leaned forward and kissed Tom on the cheek.

“You won’t need luck. You have a master player to show you the ropes.”

Stepping outside, an excitement washed over her. It was interesting to try something new. She hoped that she had some of her dad’s natural talent with golf. The sun was bright overhead, but a wind was coming off the ocean, keeping everything cool.

William had a cart waiting outside and they placed their clubs in the back. “I’m going to take you over to the driving range before we start. It will give you a chance to try out your swing.”

Riding to the other side of the hotel gave her a view of the construction underway. There weren’t many people on the course this afternoon and they were the only ones at the driving range.

He went over some of the basics and she watched him to learn a few shots. Stepping into the platform, she placed the ball on the center of the mat and thought about her stance. After a few practice movements, she swung and hit the ball.

“You clearly have hidden talents, Ms. North.” She smiled at him and lined up another shot.

William took shots as well, giving her the chance to try different clubs and get a feel for hitting the ball. Several times, she caught him watching her and she could feel a fluttering in her chest. Attempting to break the spell, each time she focused on the course.

He placed his clubs back in the cart and, after taking a last swing, she did the same.

Driving back over to the course, William said, “The first hole was designed to be challenging on this course. It requires an iron. I’ll go first and then show you how to set up for the shot.”

Parking the cart, they climbed out and brought their clubs over to the tee off area. His swing was practiced and powerful. The ball landed far enough away that it was barely visible as it bounced onto the green.

Looking around the sloping hills, she could see they were alone except for golfers far down range.

He handed her an iron from her bag and said, “Place your feet here, shoulder distance apart.”

Looking down the hill and out to the sea, she hoped that she would replicate the swings she had on the driving range. William stood behind her and placed his hands over hers on the club, showing her how to gradually swing. She could feel him touching her from her legs up to her shoulders. It was impossible to concentrate. She was hypersensitive to his touch.

“Focus, love.” He was messing with her. She pushed back against him and could hear his indrawn breath.

He stepped back and she took the swing, narrowly missing the ball. She lined up her shot again and attempted a second swing. The ball moved half the distance of his shot.

The afternoon continued with him showing her how to swing and her hitting the ball with inconsistent shots. It was so frustrating.

Looking at him, she said, “Are you tired of playing with me?”

He leaned forward towards her and her breath caught. “I’m finding your approach fascinating.”

She needed to distance herself from him or she would become a quivering mess. “We are not well suited. You must have been playing since you were ten years old.”

He lowered his voice. “Four. It was one thing that my father and I could do together.”

Bridget concentrated on her body and followed all of the corrections he had made to her form. Instead of touching her, he stood back watching. She blocked him out and took a swing. The ball made it halfway to the green.

He gave her a wide grin. “Excellent shot.”

Climbing back into the golf cart, she asked, “Why did you ask me to play?”

He drove the cart closer to the green. “I thought we could talk about Breen, but I hadn’t realized you had never played.”

He must have assumed with her father’s involvement at  the golf course that she played often. “I was in school when he tried to make a go of this place and it put a terrible strain on my mother. So I wasn’t keen on hanging out here.”

Their interactions took on a predictable pattern. He was intent on teaching her the game and his patience didn’t falter. But with each swing she became more aware of him. He was no longer a sexy entrepreneur that she could hold at a distance; she was getting to know everything about him. His thoughts, approach to life and his charm were breaking down the barriers she had steadfastly erected around her emotions.

They approached the ninth hole and she began to show a tiny amount of improvement. Relief flooded over her. The wind had kicked up and she found that she had to tie her hair back.

***

William watched as the wind blew her skirt and he could see the top of her stockings. Didn’t she believe in socks? What was it about her that he found so fascinating? He understood the tension between them, but he was equally fascinated by how her mind worked and how she challenged him intellectually. They were going to disagree about Breen, and she wasn’t going to back down, but instead of feeling bored or irritated, it intrigued him. She deeply cared about others and it was refreshing.

She took a shot and he watched the movement of her body. “You are a fast study. But putting is a different skill.”

When her ball made it to the green after several attempts, he walked up behind and touched her shoulders. “Relax your body. This part of the game is not about power but control. Letting the tension leave your body will help you place the ball in the hole.”

He steadied her hips and could hear her indrawn breath. “I can’t putt with you standing so close to me.”

He wanted to bury his mouth in the curve of her neck. “You need to be able to block out all distraction.”

She turned and pushed him away. “I’ll get it in with one putt.” It took four and she was frustrated enough that she wanted to walk away. Bridget North didn’t like to lose, but he found that quality rather endearing. He wanted to distract her by pulling her into a tight embrace, but he needed to give her time.

He enjoyed her company and adored watching her learn the game. “Let’s make this a weekly outing.”

She met his gaze. “I can’t take an afternoon off each week.”

“Long work hours are necessary, but you should be able to find time to play nine holes.”

Patrick Breen needed to be let go for the company to move forward. He was giving Bridget time to come to that conclusion by herself instead of insisting on immediate changes. She had an idealistic sense of what was possible.

“I’ll drive you back to your flat. Come over for dinner and we can discuss your plans for Breen at length.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that is a good idea. Last night got out of control.”

He moved closer to her. “Our work week is intertwined. You’ll have to get over the awkwardness.”

A look of stubbornness settled over her. “We are playing with trouble. It would be far better if we decided not to indulge our fantasies.”

Why did she resist the attraction between them? “I don’t agree. Life is about fantasy.” He pulled her close and she resisted briefly.

She whispered, “Not here. Anyone could see us.”

He kissed her neck. “You are too prim. Life is to be lived, not hidden away.”

She pushed him away. “What if my father were to see us?”

He couldn’t worry about other people’s reactions. “Neither of us is in a relationship. We have the freedom to explore a romantic involvement.”

Stepping away from him, she said, “It’s fine for you. You are not from here and you don’t care what others think. But I do.”

She placed her golf clubs back in the cart and waited for him to join her. He was looking out towards the ocean and seemed not to be in a hurry to leave. It was an enjoyable afternoon, but their disagreement weighed on her. She wanted to explore the desire between them, but nothing good would come of it. She would be left with a tarnished reputation and he would move on.

***

By the end of the week, Bridget was on edge. She had spent long days at Breen trying to unwind the reasons the company was failing. Part of it was the international pressure on prices, but some of it had to do with the fear the employees had around change. They thought that the business was about to go under and couldn’t be drawn into any type of enthusiastic approach to trying something new.

She had been avoiding William but had agreed to meet him for dinner that evening. She didn’t want to go to his house, but he had insisted and it would have become a point of contention if she didn’t agree. Somehow she needed to maintain a professional demeanor and insist that their relationship stay on a professional footing. But unfortunately images of their sexual encounter in his car kept surfacing in her mind. They were both adults but somehow had allowed their desire to take over.

Looking through her wardrobe, she decided to avoid stockings and instead put on slim-fitting jeans and a pressed white dress shirt. She dabbed on a touch of makeup and added a few bracelets and a necklace. William had offered to pick her up, but she insisted on taking public transportation.

Arriving at close to seven o’clock, she walked up the path and twisted the antique door chime.

Mrs. Blake opened the door. “It’s lovely to see you. Mr. Bolles is on the terrace.”

Crossing through the expansive great room, she relaxed her stiff shoulders. She hadn’t seen him in a few days and worried that he would not support her ideas about Breen.

Stepping through the double doors out onto the stone terrace, she stopped. He was on the phone and in a heated debate about foreign markets. He motioned for her to come out. He ended his call and a silence hung between them.

He looked sexy in a light blue, short sleeve dress shirt tucked into worn jeans and bare feet. He seemed relaxed and, after meeting his gaze for a moment, she looked away. She had missed him over the last few days, which was crazy. Her job took every ounce of her energy and yet she found time to fantasize about him. Maybe that was why he seduced her in the car? He had to know that she was drawn to him.

Moving forward, he captured her in a fleeting embrace and kissed her cheek. “I wondered how long you would avoid me.” She could feel her heartbeat accelerate.

Moving away from him, she leaned on the low stone wall. “It was a hectic week at Breen.”

He smiled at her. “What would you like to drink?”

“Red wine?”

He went into the house and she forced a breath into her lungs. When he had ended his call and met her gaze, all thoughts evaporated from her mind. Why did he have that effect on her?

***

Returning with two glasses and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, William reminded himself to take it slow. She worked for him and his fascination with the beautiful brunette wouldn’t help move his companies forward. The markets over the last few weeks were volatile and the grip he had on his investment portfolio was beginning to slip. He needed a win.

Bridget stood back and he opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. He watched her take a small sip of the full-bodied wine and tasted it himself.

“How did you make out this week?”

She turned away from him and looked out at the back garden. “It’s been difficult. The employees are fearful of change and they are as a group exhausted by all of the financial issues facing the company. Most of the long-time employees have stayed, but the younger ones have jumped ship. They took any energy and momentum out of the place.”

He took a swallow of the boldly flavored wine. “Your new hires will be critical.”

She met his gaze. “I’m worried the doom and gloom atmosphere will infect the new employees.”

She had the ability to be a great manager. “I’ve faced similar dynamics. You may need to ask a few people to leave if they are unwilling to help turn things around or unable to accept the changes coming.”

She nodded. “There are some positive aspects. The quality of the hats is remarkable. With a shift in marketing, increased sales won’t be a huge obstacle. Also raising the prices slightly will help the bottom line.”

He moved to the table and motioned for her to join him. “What is going on with the owner?”

She looked away. “Patrick. He is tough. I’ve been able to figure out that he is the inspiration behind the product line and overall quality, but he is pessimistic and seems defeated.”

William took another swallow of wine. “I’d offer him an early retirement.”

Bridget touched the stem of her wine glass. “He isn’t ready to leave.”

Working with his team, the hardest issue that they faced was deciding when to let someone go. “He may never be ready. Some owners need to be forced out.”

She took a sip of wine. “The employees hold him in high regard and genuinely care about him. Removing him will be too great of a blow.”

He was tired of talking about Breen. “Letting him stay beyond his usefulness will only hurt the company.”

“I don’t agree. Patrick Breen does have something to offer.”

“You are responsible for implementing the strategy we agreed upon and helping to insure Breen becomes profitable. If Patrick Breen is hindering that process then you don’t have a choice.”

Her eyes flashed with defiance. ”We owe it to the longtime employees to help them make the transition.”

William ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to spend the evening debating the best approach to saving the garment company. “No. Actually we don’t. We owe it to our investors to turn the company around and begin making a profit.”

Bridget placed her wineglass down on the table. “I’m not sure the two are mutually exclusive. Re-energizing and supporting the team already in place may produce better results.”

He was being drawn into a conversation he wasn’t interested in having at the moment. “You are coming from an emotional place, wanting to save the employees from the natural consequences of their actions.”

Mrs. Blake interrupted. “Dinner is ready,” the older woman said and then without waiting for an answer returned to the house.

Bridget inhaled deeply and seemed to be trying to calm her emotions. “I’m not coming from an emotional place, but it is worth thinking about the social fabric of the company. It ties into loyalty and commitment. Both factors will help the company re-emerge as a successful business.”

She made him feel alive. “Let’s have dinner. Mrs. Blake prefers to serve in the dining room.”

Opening the door for her, her subtle perfume enveloped him as she walked past. Maybe inviting her to dinner wasn’t the best idea. He had had a difficult time all week pushing thoughts about her aside. He had thought about their golf game, which was odd. She could barely play, but he found that endearing instead of frustrating. He had evaluated the way she approached learning a new skill and had been impressed. Instead of becoming self-conscious or irritated, she threw herself into the game and at times laughed at her inability and other times concentrated hard to gain the needed skillset.

Pulling out a chair for her, he asked, “Have you spoken with Olivia this week?”

“No. I know Olivia would give me advice if needed, but we have more of a working relationship then a friendship.”

He sat opposite of her. “Don’t you need a sounding board for this project?” Why did he feel a need to question her?

She shook her head. “Not while I’m trying to get my bearings. Possibly when I need to make decisions on key elements of the marketing or promotion.”

Mrs. Blake served her special meal, rack of lamb with potatoes and roasted vegetables. He could tell what his housekeeper thought of his dinner companion based on the effort she put into the meal. For some reason, she was fond of Bridget North.

“How was your week?” Her intensity penetrated his ponderings.

He would not reveal the truth about his week, that he was close to bankruptcy himself and would need to borrow heavily to survive. “It was complex. Several of the companies I have under management need additional investment to get to the next level. I spent most of the week dealing with the financing issues.”

As he took a bite of the well-prepared lamb, she asked him, “Are you overextended?”

He stopped himself from choking. It wouldn’t serve him to react. How could she possibly know that? He was careful to cover his tracks and keep everything afloat.

“Owning various struggling businesses is challenging, but I closely manage and control the flow of investment.”

She placed her fork down. “Some of the elements must be out of your control?”

He carefully hid the reality of his situation, that his father had dismantled any real wealth the family had and that he had been clawing his way out of a deep, deep hole. “I come from a family that has vast resources so there is a safety net of sorts.” It was bad enough that Fionn understood the risks and problems. In fact, if something didn’t shift he would need to contact his brother-in-law before his reputation began to take a hit.

Bridget placed a piece of roasted potato in her mouth. “When you took on investors to purchase Breen and didn’t allocate the funds yourself, it made me realize that you were probably overextended but didn’t want to tell Olivia no.”

Why did she feel the need to ask him these questions? “It can be smart to share the risks. It’s not about a lack of cash.”

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I know that you are successful, but there must be limits to your resources. The golf course itself is a money pit.”

“True. I knew that going in. It was more of a sentimental investment. I love to play the course and have many happy memories of spending time with my father there.”

Her words infiltrated his emotions as she softly said, “It’s surprising that you don’t have more resentment towards your father.”

What good would resentment do? “Maybe if he lived I would have, but I lost him when I was only seventeen. I’d have done anything at the time to bring him back.”

“Children love their parents, even if they are imperfect. But you should be careful of taking on the world in defense of him. He was larger than life and an easy target.”

His body tensed and he attempted to relax his rigid muscles. How could she possibly understand anything about his father? “He did make himself a target.”

Her gaze seared into him. “Do you feel the need to defend his reputation?”

Why was he allowing the conversation to continue? “Yes. There are countless naysayers who think they know something about my father, but they don’t.”

“You were a child, William. They may know more than you do about his life.”

He stood up. “No. How could that be possible? I knew my father and he was a good man.”

***

Her heart went out to him. “Why do you feel the need to defend the indefensible?”

His gaze on her was cold. “He is not here to defend himself and I don’t think anyone should speak ill of the dead.” His voice rose and she worried that she had pushed him too far, but she had to shed light on the truth.

Bridget stood up as well, leaving her dinner half-eaten. “I believe that one should speak ill of the dead if it is the truth. Otherwise it is dishonest.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “So you would have me admit publically that my father was a disgrace?”

Her heart broke for him. “Yes. His enemies will keep pushing for the truth until it is given. By acknowledging that he made mistakes, you take the power away from those who would like to see you fail.”

He shook his head. “By acknowledging his failures, I’ll be giving them ammunition.”

“It doesn’t work that way. It takes a considerable amount of effort to defend a lie. Let go of trying to defend his reputation. He was human. You will always have your memories of him and those don’t need to be shared. Acknowledging the truth will put you in a much stronger position.”

“Is that what you do? Admit the truth about your father?”

Bridget thought about the Donne. Playing the course with William and seeing her father happy there had shifted her dislike of the place. But there were memories to contend with. The place had fallen into bankruptcy the year her mother died.

Why did he feel the need to dredge up her father’s past? But she decided to admit the truth. “For my family, the Donne was a failure. My father dragged the family through years of struggle and loss trying to make a go of that place. It led to his drinking issues.”

William crossed his arms. “Plenty of people have financial issues and don’t take up alcohol to compensate. My guess is that your father would have had an issue with drinking whether he was successful or not.”

The loss and failure was painful to think about. But William was right. Tom also drank when he was happy. Her father was in a good place and she hoped it would continue.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should take a walk.”

They needed a break from their emotional conversation. “How about a bike ride? Mrs. Blake told me that you keep a spare bike for guests.”

He gave her a dazed look. “Typically male guests, but I have one Olivia has used. Are you an experienced cyclist?”

She crossed her arms. “I’ve ridden quite a bit, but these days do more cycling classes than actual riding outside.”

William called for Mrs. Blake and she helped Bridget find appropriate clothing while he organized the equipment.

In one of the spare bedrooms, she changed into black biking shorts and a lime green reflective shirt. The clothing fit her perfectly and she wondered if a previous girlfriend had used the outfit. He seemed to prefer a solitary life focused on work and sports.

She met him in the driveway and he asked her, “Do you want to ride around the city or head out to a rural area?”

“Maybe a city route?” It had been years since she had ridden in Dublin.

He had changed into grey biking shorts and T-shirt, revealing a toned and muscular body. Even though he worked insane hours, he obviously kept himself in top physical condition. She found herself slightly nervous as he guided a cycle toward her. It was a high-end frame and he had adjusted it for her.

He handed her a helmet. “Good?”

She nodded and watched him climb on his bicycle and balance for a moment before heading out. She followed him through the old streets and began to relax. She kept up with him and enjoyed the views of Dublin at night. He took her through Dubh Linn Gardens and she pushed herself to keep up with him. After thirty minutes or so, he increased the intensity and she had to concentrate to keep the cycle moving at a decent clip. Her tired muscles began to revolt as she caught sight of his house.

Following him into his uncluttered garage, she climbed off the bicycle and waited for him to place his on a stand before handing over her equipment. He lifted it up and onto hangers so it was suspended from the ceiling.

He ran his eyes over her. “You did well.”

She gave him her bicycle. “You make it sound like a test.”

He laughed. “Some people are serious about cycling and some are more tourists wanting to meander around. You were a pleasure to ride with.”

He stepped towards her and she considered his words. He was clearly interested in a physical relationship but had no interest in protecting her privacy. It would not serve either of them.

“Don’t overthink this, love.” He lifted the hair off of her shoulder and kissed her neck.

She pushed against him and enjoyed the feel of tight muscles. “I need a shower.”

“You taste amazing.” He drew her into his arms and captured her mouth, deepening the kiss, and she could feel her body flood with desire. This was not a smart move.

He traced her lips with his tongue before plunging back into her mouth, demanding a response. She clung to him and returned each kiss. After several minutes, they were both breathing hard and he said, “Come upstairs with me.”

She stepped back. “It would complicate everything and it’s not a good idea.” Moving away from him, her limbs were uncoordinated and she had to resist the temptation to throw herself into his embrace. She would tarnish her reputation and it would be hard to recover from that. The world hadn’t changed much. She would be judged and he would walk away without censure.

He brushed a stray hair from her face. “Do you ever throw caution away and enjoy the moment?” His low voice drew her in.

Taking a breath in, she said, “No. I learned a long time ago that it is not the way to a safe, productive life.”

He was standing so close she could see deeply into his eyes. “That is what motivates you? A productive life?”

She wanted to lose herself in his embrace. “If you want something to happen between us, then you need to promise me that it will stay our secret. Not even Mrs. Blake can know.”

He became still. Would he choose to indulge in a secret fling or demand that they tell the world?

He lightly touched her jaw. “I don’t like secrets. They are poison.”

She ran her hands over his chest and enjoyed the feel of the tight muscles. “Neither one of us is in a relationship. I’m not suggesting that we lie to anyone.” She waited for him to decide.

William touched her neck and drew her into a slow, sensual kiss. Her body heated and she clutched at his shirt.

“Come.”

He led her through the back part of the house. Opening a wooden door, he guided her into a dark room and said, “I’ll handle Mrs. Blake. You can turn the shower on if you like.”

He disappeared and she clicked the door shut and turned on a lamp. The room had a masculine feel and she realized it was William’s bedroom and not a guest suite. There was an artistic rendering of a bicycle on the far wall and an elaborate walk–in closet that held suits and cycling apparel.

The bathroom was through another door and she turned the shower on. She was making a mistake. What if others found out that she had an affair with her boss? They were both single and unattached, but it didn’t change the fact that she worked for him. She could quit and beg Olivia to take her back.

She heard him come in. “I said goodnight to Mrs. Blake and she is going to bed. I’ll be able to sneak you out later.”

Why did she have such an issue with the concept of sneaking around? She was the one who wanted to keep their fling a secret. But if she was proud of her choice then she wouldn’t want to hide it.

“Why haven’t you gotten in the shower?” William took off his shirt and she stared at him. He began to remove his biking shorts and she turned away.

“Why don’t you go first?”

He laughed. “Spoilsport.”

Leaving the bathroom, she went in search of a bathrobe. She located a terrycloth robe in his closet and stripped down, putting her borrowed clothes in the hamper. She would need William to find her clothing.

He emerged from the shower, drying off and then securing the towel around his hips.

She walked by him and he reached out and tugged her close. “I was hoping that you would join me.”

“It felt too intimate to take my clothes off in front of you and get in the shower.”

He touched her chin and tilted her head up. “Are you having second thoughts? I can take you home if you are not sure about this.”

She looked into his eyes and her heart accelerated. “I’m sure. I just need a moment to shower.”

Pulling out of his embrace, she walked into the marble bathroom and closed the door. He had left the shower running for her. Hanging the robe on the back of the door, she climbed into the warm spray and soaped her entire body. Rinsing the lather off, she turned off the shower and stepped out. There was a stack of white towels on a bench near the shower and she dried off.

She was having second thoughts. It wasn’t smart to leap into an affair with him. But she wanted to lose herself in his embrace. He was compelling and maddening in equal measure. Her body was drawn to him and her instincts told her that he would be hot and intoxicating. Her limited experience hadn’t been earth shattering, but after their encounter in the car, it was obvious they had incredible chemistry. She had fantasized about him each waking moment.

She ventured out of the bathroom and discovered that he was gone. Standing in the middle of the room in a towel, she wondered if he had second thoughts. The door opened and he came in wearing jeans and carried her clothing, folded in a neat pile.

Why was this so awkward? “Have you changed your mind?”

“I thought you might have so I fetched your clothing.”

“I haven’t.”

He placed her clothing on a nearby chair.

“I know you have concerns about getting involved with me because of our professional relationship.”

“I want to pretend that doesn’t exist tonight.”

“We can’t do that. If you want to take our relationship further then you need to acknowledge the truth.”

He head jerked back. Was he throwing her earlier words back at her?

“I’m not trying to score points. But I want you to be sure about this and not just allow yourself to get lost in the moment.”

He was right. If she was going to do this, she had to be honest about it.

“I want you. It doesn’t matter to me that we work together or even that it might be discovered. I’m willing to acknowledge it.”

He opened his arms and she threw herself into his embrace. He captured her mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. Her heart accelerated and she held onto his shoulders to steady herself.

William moved a hand down and tugged her towel off. She gasped at the sudden exposure to the air.

“You are beautiful.” He glided his hands down her back and pulled her bottom closer to him. She could feel his hardness through his jeans and her insides melted.

He left her mouth and placed delicate kisses along her jaw and then her neck. She unbuttoned his jeans and he drew in a deep breath.

“I’m losing my mind.” He picked her up and placed her on the bed before disappearing for a moment into the bathroom. He came back with a few foil packets.

“You remind me of a warrior. Your muscles are sleek and defined.”

He laughed and removed his jeans, leaving them on the floor but putting the protection on the bed. His body was masculine and hard edged. He had no excess weight.

“Slow can be good in this case.” He captured her restless hands and pinned them above her head. He took his time tasting each of her breasts and coaxing each nipple into unbearable tightness. She moved her body and he released her hands and held her hips in place as he slowly kissed each inch of skin between her breasts and feminine core.

She ran her hands through his hair and tried to distract him from his path, but he wouldn’t give in. It was too much. Her body was on fire and she twisted in his embrace. He parted her legs and insisted on tasting her there.

“Please. I can’t wait.”

“You can, love.” His tongue found her most sensitive spot and she would have leapt off the bed if he wasn’t anchoring her. He used his skill and sensual demands to drive her to new levels of excitement and when she tightened her grip on his hair he increased the pressure and she exploded into a powerful climax.

“You are so open.” He kissed her inner thigh and smiled at her. Her body was humming with excitement.

He continued a slow exploration of her body and she touched his chest and moved her hand down to his erection. He closed his hand over hers and guided her into a slow rhythm.

She moved restlessly against him and he positioned himself over her and plunged deeply inside. She could feel pleasure building through her entire body and encouraged each thrust. He captured her nipple with his fingers and she exploded into another release. With one final thrust, he joined her. They lay entwined together, letting their breathing return to normal for several minutes before he got up to discard the condom.

Coming back to bed, he said, “I need you.”

She luxuriated in the touch of his embrace and kissed him with all of the desire she was feeling. He pulled her on top of him. She straddled him and responded to his encouragement.

Hours later, she located her clothing and pulled on her jeans and shirt. Her body was stiff from the last few hours of intense exercise. He dressed and insisted on driving her home.

“I can catch the bus. My flat is near a convenient stop.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. “I want to take you home.”

They silently left the house. He took his silver Audi and drove through the streets of Dublin at close to three o’clock in the morning.

Glancing out the window, she tried to make sense of her emotions. Her reaction to him was more than physical. She craved a connection to him and could feel herself falling in love with him. Her steadfast determination to keep their involvement a secret shamed her. Maybe it was because it hurt him in some way? He didn’t want to hide what was unfolding between them, but she had insisted. Was it his father and all the torrid secrets that he’d kept that had caused his son to want honesty? Certainly he could see it would only hurt her if they revealed their fling? She was torn between wanting to protect her reputation and wanting to be proud of her relationship with him.

Her head began to pound and she rubbed her temples.

William pulled up near her building. “Are you feeling all right?”

She nodded. “I’m tired. It’s late.”

Opening the door, she climbed out and waited for him on the sidewalk. “You don’t have to walk me up.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Goodnight, love. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She hugged him tightly and then kissed him briefly on the lips.

“Goodnight.” She walked the few steps to her building and turned when she unlocked the door and saw him watching her pensively. She smiled and stepped inside and ran up the stairs. What was he thinking? Was he surprised by the way the evening unfolded? She should feel regretful, but she didn’t in the least.

Chapter 9

William watched Bridget interact with the staff on the small, private plane. She had a friendly demeanor that drew others in. He was getting to understand her on many levels but preferred the easiness of their relationship when they were alone. In public, he had to be careful not to let down his guard and become too familiar with her. Despite her passionate declaration that she was willing to acknowledge their relationship, in the light of day she continued to insist that they maintain their privacy. Their visit to New York was going to make that difficult. But they had agreed that they would tell their closest friends and family.

It would be impossible to keep a strictly business-only facade at the gala tomorrow evening. The New York social circle looked for gossip and would link their names together. Maybe it would force the issue between them.

The flight attendant disappeared into the front compartment, leaving them alone.

He closed his laptop. “Beyond going to the gala and working in the hotel suite, have you made any plans for the three days?”

She gave him a searching look. “I scheduled a few appointments with top clients of Breen. I’m hoping to get a sense of how their brand is perceived in New York and if there is any feedback for the company.”

He laced his fingers through hers. “I’d like you to join me for dinner each evening. The first is with a few friends and the night after the gala is a few business associates.”

She nodded before glancing back at her laptop. “Do you spend much time in New York?”

“I grew up in New York City but haven’t lived there since I was a child. My mother still lives there.” He stretched out his legs.

“She must miss you. You are her only child?” Bridget looked at him.

He took a sip of espresso. “She has her own life and I see her a few times a year.”

Glancing back at her laptop, she said, “That is a rather evasive answer.”

He formed his hands into a steeple. “My mother isn’t the warm, sentimental type. She is organizing the gala that we are attending tomorrow night so you’ll meet her and can form your own opinion.”

***

Bridget thought about Diane Bolles. She had looked the socialite up in the media and she was reported to be quite a livewire. She took part in different charity work and was photographed often among the elite New York social world. Would Diane welcome her or simply ignore her? Normally people who traveled in those elite social circles cared about social standing and wealth. Bridget could claim neither.

William met her gaze. “Have you been to New York before?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve never been. I’m rather excited. There are so many fashion houses and boutiques. I’ll be able to see how Olivia’s designs are showcased.”

He smiled at her. “We can do whatever you like. Take in a show, walk in Central Park or go see the fashion houses.”

A warmth spread throughout her core. “You are willing to do that? Aren’t you the person who said that women may wear a baseball cap as far as you’re concerned?”

“I’ve been corrected. By both you and Olivia.”

“Now you own a hat company.”

It was a risk coming to New York. If she were honest, she agreed to come along for personal reasons. She would visit a few customers for Breen, but those interactions could have taken place over the phone. She wanted to escape with William. They had to be careful in Dublin, but New York would give them much more freedom.

“I have the marketing plan nearly complete for Breen. Can I show you?”

William turned towards her. “Absolutely.”

“With your blessing, I’ll send it off to the management team.”

Opening the file on her laptop, she positioned the screen so he could see and began to discuss the various elements.

She glanced at him and noticed he was watching her, not the presentation. “Have I lost your interest?”

“Definitely not.”  He touched her thigh and moved his hand under her skirt.

She let out a playful shriek and tried to push his hand away. “We can’t, William.”

“We are alone, love.” He traced small circles on her leg.

She held his hand still. “There are crew members that could walk through the cabin.”

She undid her seatbelt. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Can you glance through the document?”

Standing up, there was a moment of turbulence and William pulled her into his lap. He was a potent combination of playfulness and intensity. He captured her mouth and she kissed him back. Deciding to push his boundaries, she began to unbutton his shirt between kisses.

He stopped her. “Enough. You were right.”

She untangled herself from him and headed to the bathroom. It was crazy how happy she felt. Did he feel the same?

The plane landed and a limousine was waiting to take them to the Four Seasons New York. William answered a few calls en route and spoke about different investment opportunities with Alex.

William ended his call and said, “Olivia and Fionn are in New York. Apparently they are coming to the gala tomorrow night. It was a charity my father was involved in and for the last few years my mother has continued to support it.”

She placed a hand over her chest and could feel her heart racing. Olivia would guess that she had something going on with William.

“It’s going to be an issue for us.” She worried that others would judge her for leaping into a fling with her handsome boss.

“We can refuse to answer specific questions and hope that my family doesn’t ask too many. But it will come out.”

She nodded. “It was naive of me to think that we could keep it under wraps. It’s fine. I’m not ashamed of the relationship, but we will have to figure the professional complexities.”

“I took on the Breen Hat Company because you had promised to run it. I don’t see that changing. Whatever happens between us will have no impact on that.”

Things had a way of working out, didn’t they? At least she hoped it would work out. She had used the lucrative sign-on bonus to buy her father a small cottage. But instead of focusing solely on work, she had allowed herself to be drawn into a dream. She thought about her safe, predictable life back in London and how she tried to refuse Olivia’s offer.

“What do you think will happen with us?”

“Do you mean after marriage and three kids?”

She inwardly cringed. Why would she ask him about the future? They had barely started dating and she had no idea what she wanted in the future.

“Just three?”

The driver pulled up to the hotel and helped them with the luggage. Walking into the opulent foyer, her nerves became heightened.

“William, dear.” A striking blond woman in her late fifties approached them. Bridget recognized Diane Bolles.

His mother embraced him and said, “I can see you decided to bring a companion.”

“Mother, this is Bridget North. She oversees one of my companies in Dublin.”

Bridget held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bolles.”

Diane ignored her outstretched hand and focused her attention on William. “Dublin is a horrible place. You can barely get a decent cup of coffee. Let alone any art or culture.”

The woman was unbelievable. She let her hand fall and straightened her posture. “I don’t know if that is accurate. I grew up in Dublin.”

“Poor darling.” The woman gave her a pitiful look. Could his mother be any more offensive?

Diane spoke directly to William. “Why don’t you put away your things and join me at the bar?”

William placed his arm around her shoulders. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. Bridget and I have plans, but I can meet for lunch tomorrow?”

Bridget didn’t look at Diane. She could only imagine how much spite and resentment the woman would be directing towards her.

“I’m too busy to meet you for lunch. I’ll see you at the event.” Diane walked off without another word.

William led Bridget to the elevator. As the doors closed, she said, “That was unpleasant.”

“My mother is tough.”

Bridget thought about her own mother. She would give anything to be able to have lunch with her again. Why did Diane not see that demanding things from her only son would not work? Why didn’t she make time to see him tomorrow?

Stepping inside the suite one level down from the penthouse, William pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry you had to deal with her.”

Moving out of his arms, she walked into the spacious well-appointed main room. The furnishings were all in muted shades of grey and reminded her of opulence and luxury. She ran her hand over the soft linen covering the sofa. “I’m fine. I didn’t expect her to like me. I can only imagine she would choose someone else for her only son.”

William crossed his arms. “Do you mean would she prefer that I date a member of the New York upper class instead of a working class girl from Dublin?”

His bluntness surprised her. “I know the answer and so do you.”

He took off his suit jacket and removed his tie. “It doesn’t matter to me what she thinks of my life. I’ve no intention of following in her footsteps. Instead of finding a suitable match, someone she loved, she married the name. That choice has not served her well or brought her any real happiness.”

Bridget thought of her family growing up. They were of little means, but there were happy. Her mother’s sister, who lived in London and took an interest in her, bridged the gap for her family. She was able to provide for her education and take her on trips. Not to mention encouraging a career path that would open up new possibilities for her. Would her aunt be proud of her choice to date William? Or would she cringe? Did it matter what others thought?

She thought about the high-strung socialite. “Do you normally bring the women you date to meet your mother?”

William sat on the sofa and appeared relaxed. “No. She is not interested in meeting anyone from my life unless the woman happened to have clout in the New York scene. Then she would be interested.”

She sat on the sofa close to him. “Why, if you were raised in this environment, do you not care more about finding acceptance here?”

He watched her closely. “New York can be an insane place. Growing up with parents who fought constantly, had shallow friends, and spent way too much time trying to impress others is not a life I wish to return to. It doesn’t appeal to me. I much prefer to be out in nature or playing sports.”

It was odd to be in New York with him. He seemed so at home in Dublin, it was hard to imagine this was his real home. “But you did take over the Bolles Financial Empire?”

He hesitated for a moment and then said, “Not in the way you think. When my father died unexpectedly, the investment bank was being investigated by the SEC and had to be closed. Fionn handled the problems and made sure that a set amount of money was placed in trust for me. I could only access it when I turned twenty-five.”

“How were you able to build a large company in a few short years?” She looked at him. “That is really impressive.”

He crossed his ankles. “I took risks. I launched a small investment group when I graduated college and used the Bolles name to attract money. Some of the money was invested overseas in mining operations, but I also bought and sold small companies in England and Ireland.”

She thought about the delicate balance of realizing great returns and investing into ventures that would fail. “Have you ever taken too many risks?”

William pulled her into his arms. “I don’t know if that is possible.”

As he kissed her neck, she wondered if their relationship was a risk for him. What type of reward could there be? He devoured her mouth and any coherent thought left her brain. She craved his touch and wanted to lose herself in him.

***

The next day was a blur of activity. She had arrived back to the hotel in time to take a rushed shower and get ready for the formal gala. Even though she shared a bedroom with William the night before, she placed her clothing in one of the other bedrooms and used the space to get ready. The gown she had brought from London was couture and had been given to her as a bonus for working hours and hours on a last minute launch.

Working in the fashion business had certain perks. If she had been in another industry, she wouldn’t have had something appropriate to wear. It took a serious amount of money to purchase couture. The illusion neckline bodice had a sheer halter top and featured a stunning display of twinkling bejeweled lace. The dress was designed to create curves with striped detailing that draped the full-length hem with glamour.

Adding four-inch stiletto heels and a generous amount of makeup gave her the look she wanted. Grabbing a hairbrush, she managed to create a decent bun with pins and hair gel, when she heard William knock on the door.

She looked up at him through the mirror as he walked into the room. He took her breath away. He looked polished and masculine in formal attire and it reminded her of the night they had met a year ago. It was a much different look then his cycling outfit or even a business suit, and he looked impossibly sexy.

“Are you ready?” He sounded slightly impatient, as if he wanted to get the evening over with.

Turning to him, she said, “You look fabulous.”

She watched his eyes rake over her and desire settle over him. Instead of seducing her, he turned and walked out of the room. Why was he stressed about going tonight? What wasn’t he telling her?

Walking in silence with him to the elevator, she thought about the evening ahead. She was eagerly awaiting the festivities. Working in the fashion world, she had dreamed of coming to New York and attending a black-tie event. She would see firsthand the gowns and accessories worn by the elite social crowd. There would probably be numerous gowns from Olivia’s spring line being worn.

“I notice the absence of a hat.”

The doors opened and she contemplated answering him. He knew so little about the fashion world. But it wasn’t worth an explanation, he wasn’t that interested in understanding the nuances of women’s clothing.

The event was being hosted in the Four Seasons Hotel so they made their way over to the ballroom. William was stopped several times and he chatted amicably and introduced Bridget. Their photograph was taken a few times in the foyer and William was at ease and didn’t try to distance himself from her.

Attending this event together was announcing to the socially connected New York scene that they were an item. Why had she thought that she would be able to fade into the background? Apparently the Bolles name drew interest and speculation. It was clear that everyone present knew who William Bolles was and wanted his attention.

A few times she tried to give him space, but he merely anchored her with his arm or held her hand. At one point, he whispered, “Trust me, you don’t want to be left alone in this crowd – they will tear you apart.”

She observed his mother from afar, but she hadn’t spoken to her yet tonight. The whole event was a fascinating show of wealth and privilege. She recognized many of the designer gowns and took in all the discussion about fashion. Many acquaintances sought William’s advice about the markets, but he mainly suggested that they grab drinks at some point.

He led her onto the dance floor and gathered her into his arms. She was enjoying the event and was surprised to see a strained look on his face.

She asked him, “Has something upset you?”

The memory of their first encounter came back to her. She hadn’t known him but based on his family name had treated him badly. Had someone this evening slighted him in same way?

He looked into her eyes. “This event reminds me of my father and the good he wanted to do in the world.”

What was she missing? “You must come to many events like this one.”

William hesitated for a minute, and said, “When he was alive, he started this event and it has continued on. He formed the charity. His idea was to find successful business people that had something to give back and then assign them to a charitable project. By the time I was ten or so, he would bring me to the different locations that benefitted from the funding. I found the formal event horribly boring each year, but I had no idea that he would leave this earth before I could understand the good it did.”

Her heart softened. She had been so excited by the fashion aspects of the event that she didn’t think about the deeper concerns. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

He pulled her closer and she could feel his breath and her body began to heat. “I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s refreshing that you find joy in this atmosphere. It is exactly what I need tonight.”

***

William caught sight of Olivia speaking with a group of people. There had to be more than five hundred guests tonight. Another set of doors had opened and guests were beginning to make their way to the elaborate dinner being offered.

He guided Bridget from the dance floor and they made their way to the front table. The room looked spectacular and the executive director of the charity was on stage.

Fionn and Olivia were seated with them. Bridget greeted them warmly and sat down. His sister was glowing and seemed rather pleased that he and Bridget were an item. He shook Fionn’s hand and sat between Bridget and his mother. He knew Diane wouldn’t be happy that Bridget had an association with Olivia.

Immediately, his mother whispered to him, “I hadn’t realized that Olivia had introduced you to your companion.”

“She has a name.”

His mother whispered, “Knowing you, she won’t be around long enough for me to bother learning it.”

He ignored his mother and asked Bridget if she needed anything.

His mother took the stage after the formal speeches and did a plea for more donations.

Olivia and Bridget became lost in discussing the ins and outs of the fashion industry. It seemed that many of the fashion icons were present tonight. William escaped to one of the bar areas with Fionn.

Fionn ordered two Jameson whiskeys and asked him, “How is everything? I know some of your investors are getting cold feet.”

No matter how established he became, Fionn would always be a step ahead of him. “There is risk involved in buying and selling companies.”

Fionn looked concerned. “What I’m hearing is that The Donne is a sentimental investment and bleeding you dry.”

He decided not to allow himself to become defensive. “There is truth to that.”

“Why don’t you cut your losses?” Fionn looked baffled. He didn’t believe in holding on to an investment for sentimental reasons.

“The Donne Resort and Golf Club is close to breaking even. It is going to be named as a destination for one of the major golf events next year.”

Fionn adjusted his collar. “Have they signed a contract?”

The bartender handed them each a whiskey and he took a large swallow.

He disliked Fionn checking up on him. He was no longer a kid and could handle his own troubles. “The course needs to be finished before the final commitment is extended. It will happen.”

“The timing is getting close. They could select another venue. I don’t understand your fascination. Do you plan to name the course for your father?”

He wasn’t interested in Fionn’s opinion. Fionn had been good to him, but his relationship with Oliver was complex and problematic. “Does it matter?”

“William, if you lose your shirt then it will matter. For better or worse, we are part of a family and your reputation does have an impact on my holdings.”

William rubbed the back of his neck. “So you are concerned about your bottom line?”

Fionn placed his drink on the bar. “No. I’m concerned about you. If you need capital, I can help.”

He shook his head. “I’ve liquidated other assets and am moving forward.”

His eyes widened. “You’ve sold your villa in France?”

Why did he feel so defensive? Something had to give if he was going to continue funding The Donne. “I did.”

Fionn placed his hand on his shoulder. “At some point, you need to consider London or New York. You can’t stay in Ireland forever if you intend to get to the next level. You need to face your adversaries and naysayers in the major markets.”

New York would take his soul. London he could deal with. “I have no interest in being in New York or London.”

Fionn looked pensive. “The naysayers bother you. That is the central issue. It’s not about achieving success, it’s about being proud of who you are and where you come from.”

Will took a swallow of whiskey. “It’s about success. Pure and simple.” He and Fionn had much different outlooks on life.

“You are no longer a boy, William. There is more to life than acquiring wealth. I see how you shut down when your father is criticized. Somehow you need to get past that.”

William placed his glass on the bar. “It doesn’t bother me in the same way anymore.”

Fionn held up his hands. “Then why are you risking everything for a golf course that you want to name after him?”

He had been asking himself the same question. “I’m not naming it after him. We played there often and I enjoy the memories. Is that such a problem?”

“It is if you are willing to lose everything. At the end of the day, he is gone.”

“There is a newsflash.”

Bridget and Olivia joined them and the conversation moved to other topics.

Bridget laced her arm through his and smiled up at him.

Olivia said, “Your mother is in her element. The executive director let us know that the charity did well this evening.”

His father’s real critics were not here this evening. If he wanted to seek them out then he would need to go elsewhere. Did it matter?

He smiled at his sister. “It’s important. How are you feeling?”

“I’m well but designing the right gown wasn’t easy.” She ran a hand over her round belly.

They spent several more minutes chatting until Olivia yawned. “I’ve been tired lately. Especially with travelling.”

Olivia and Bridget embraced and then he kissed his sister on the cheek.

Fionn shook his hand saying, “Good luck and let me know if you need help.”

He wanted to take Bridget upstairs, but instead he led her back to the dance floor. Fionn had a point: he had to be careful to not cling to the past.

It had been said many times that he was hiding out in Ireland. He didn’t see it that way, but it was easier than having to defend the Bolles name. When he returned he would seek out his brother and, if it was true, he would tell his sisters.

***

On her last day in New York, Bridget was invited to attend a luncheon at Vogue with Olivia. William had left early in the morning for a meeting and she used the hotel’s workout room and then spent time on her computer.

At eleven thirty, she took a shower and dressed in a straight grey skirt with a white silk top. It was a warm summer in New York so she didn’t bother with stockings, but she wore four-inch heels and added a few accessories. In her regular life, she was known as a fashion expert, but it was intimidating coming to New York and having to attend an event with people that were real experts.

Olivia met her in the lobby. “I’m surprised my brother has let you disappear for a few hours.”

Bridget laughed. “He has no interest in a lunch at Vogue. He is probably biking around the city.”

Olivia looked gorgeous in a silk dress. “Did he bring his bicycle?”

“I think so.” She had woken up after he left this morning and there was a cryptic note about escaping the world of suits and ties. It was possible that he was escaping the stress of the financial world by heading off on his bicycle.

“There should be a limousine waiting outside.”

The traffic was heavy and Bridget watched the pedestrians make their way through the crowded streets. New York had a pace that was unbelievable.

“When I first visited New York, I was mesmerized by all the activity.”

Bridget turned to Olivia. “I know. I can’t believe that I’m here and going to Vogue.”

“How are things at the Breen Hat Company?”

“It has been a struggle. Mainly it is the emotional side of the business that is tricky to manage. I understand the marketing and the numbers, but the employees have been living in a stressful and uncertain environment for some time.”

Olivia smiled gently. “It is difficult, but I’ve learned in business that emotions need to be honestly addressed and then put aside.”

“The owner, Patrick Breen, has good ideas, but he is exhausted and somewhat unwilling to change. William is ready to replace him, but I’d rather give him more time.”

“If you are protecting him from the consequences of his actions then I don’t think it will work.”

“It would be a shame to lose the connection to the past.”

“As a manager, you have to be willing to make hard choices or the company could go under. I’ve seen situations where a change, even if resisted in the beginning, was the best thing for the individual.”

The limousine left them off near the building and they were guided into an elaborate luncheon. There were less than fifty guests and they were placed at different tables.

A designer seated near her commented, “I saw your photograph with William Bolles. It was stunning. We are considering using it.”

It surprised her and the conversation turned into an inquiry about where William spent most of his time.

Another woman asked, “Where did the two of you meet?”

“We met through his sister, Olivia Bolles.”

The topic switched to the upcoming fashion week. She thought about William deciding not to spend too much time in the New York social scene and began to understand why.

She and Olivia arrived back at the hotel in the late afternoon.

Olivia said, “Do you want to have tea? I think the men are at a meeting.”

Bridget nodded. Did Olivia plan to interrogate her on William’s life? Or maybe warn her off from having a romantic relationship?

They were seated in the restaurant, overlooking the lobby, and the forest-like setting soothed her nerves. A waiter took their order and disappeared.

“It’s so lovely to have you in New York. When you went to Breen, I didn’t expect to see you for a year. You are very much missed at the studio.”

“It has been a transition for sure. I didn’t expect to be back in Dublin and I miss everyone terribly.”

The waiter returned and served a pot of tea.

“William said that your father lives near the golf course and that you see him often?”

“We used to talk on the phone all the time, but I would only get home twice a year. Now I see him a couple of times a week. He is living outside of Dublin and I found a flat near Breen.”

Olivia took a sip of her tea. “It sounds lovely. Do you have any thoughts on what will happen when the year is over?”

“I plan on returning to London.” How could she not? Her relationship with William would end well before the year was up and she would be counting the weeks. He was not into long-term relationships.

Olivia smiled at her. “But you seem to be crazy about my brother.”

“I am, but I realize that it was foolish to jump into a relationship with someone I work for. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

Olivia touched her hand. “Bridget, love can happen. It’s impossible to plan, and from what I can tell you are both unattached adults. So I wouldn’t be apologetic about it. Enjoy each other.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond so she changed the subject. “Can you tell me what is happening at the studio?”

Olivia smiled and then launched into a discussion of the plans for Fashion Week and the new collection.

William and Fionn joined them a short while later and they said their goodbyes. Getting onto the elevator with William, she couldn’t wait to be alone with him. This would be their last evening in New York and she wanted to make the most of it.

They were expected out in an hour but spent most of it entwined in each other’s arms until she insisted they spend a few minutes getting ready.

The dinner that evening was in the Gramercy Tavern's Private Dining Room.

Bridget showered in minutes and put on one of the couture black dresses she brought with her. She could hear William call out that he was ready. Putting on sheer black stockings, she slipped her feet into Italian heels and then went in search of earrings. Her face was flushed, so she added a touch of mascara and put her hair up in a messy updo.

They arrived a few minutes late and were shown to a private dining room. William kept his hand on her lower back and drew her closer when he introduced her to a dozen or more business contacts. The room was an intimate space with a single, grand table set beneath a wood-beamed ceiling with elegant chandeliers. They joined the others standing about having cocktails.

Watching him entertain various couples with stories of skiing in Switzerland and biking in Tanzania, she recalled the comments by a Vogue editor. William was recognized and sought after in New York. Was it possible that he worried too much about others disparaging his father? The scandals were years ago and she couldn’t imagine that many people could hold a grudge for that long.

One of the women asked her where she had met William and she explained it was through his sister.

All twenty people drew a slip of paper from a glass bowl and were asked to match the image to a place setting at the table. Her image was a bluebird and she took a seat near the end of the table. An advertising executive was seated to her left and a vice president of an investment brokerage to her right. Waiters came out and served a beet salad with almonds, fregola and Asian pear for the appetizer.

“Do you model, Ms. North?” the gentleman to her right asked.

“Bridget, please. I work in fashion. For the last few years, I’ve done the marketing for Olivia Bolles Designs, but I’ve recently shifted to managing the Breen Hat Company in Dublin.”

“I’ve not heard of Breen. Do you enjoy the work?”

“It is exhausting at the moment but also exhilarating.”

The conversation continued for some time and a waiter came around and poured wine. The conversation around the table flowed easily and Bridget was welcomed into the banter. She could feel herself relax and absorb the interesting ideas and discussions around her.

The woman to her left said, “It is unfortunate about William. He could have done great things.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Bolles name will always weigh him down.”

“I don’t agree with you. There is a new generation and they are all rather successful and talented.”

The next course was served and she enjoyed the delicious soup.

The woman’s voice held a trace of disdain. “Yes, but one can’t escape their father’s legacy.”

Bridget smiled and said, “I attended a gala last night for homeless and disadvantaged youth. Oliver Bolles had started the fundraiser.”

The woman took a sip of her wine. “He was a saint, wasn’t he?” The disdain in the woman’s voice was surprising. She must have had a negative interaction with Oliver.

She needed to be careful but couldn’t allow the comment to pass. “No. I don’t think he was a saint. He was human and made mistakes. William loved him but was aware of his flaws.”

The subject around the table changed to politics and the conversation drifted to other topics.

After nearly two hours and five courses, the meal ended and people slowly left the table and milled about the room.

William was talking with a blonde wearing a short red dress and who had wrapped her body around his arm. Instead of holding back, she walked up to them and introduced herself to the blonde.

The blonde said, “Would you give us a few minutes? I have something of a personal nature to discuss with William.”

Bridget looked at William, who unwrapped himself and said, “Your finances are hardly of a personal nature, Elaine. Why don’t you chat with Bridget? I have to have a word with someone.”

He kissed her cheek and whispered, “I won’t be long.”

The woman pouted. “How did you entice him into dating? I’ve tried for years and he has always been more interested in triathlons and outdoor adventures.”

“He does appreciate nature.”

She glanced at William and noticed he was speaking with the host of the event. She asked her companion, “Do you know who William is speaking to?”

“Walter Brown. He owns a large investment firm.”

She nodded. “The financial world in New York is a mystery to me.”

“You have a drop dead gorgeous dress.”

She smiled at the woman. She was friendly and harmless, even if she would like to dig her nails into William.

They talked a few more minutes until William joined them and said, “We must be going.”

They said goodnight to Elaine and politely excused themselves. Saying goodbye to everyone on the way out, he held her hand tightly until they were on the street.

William pulled her into an embrace. “It’s only a few blocks, can you walk?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

“You look amazing, but wouldn’t you rather be comfortable?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “My clothing fits well and is comfortable, but the shoes are meant for hard surfaces not rough terrain or grass.”

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I was placed near interesting people and the food was superb. How about you?”

“Being in New York is challenging because everyone has an opinion about the Bolles family.”

She listened quietly and he continued, “I spoke with Walter Brown. He is interested in funding a new project. It could lead to the establishment of a London office.”

She thought about the complexities of the financial world in New York. William seemed to manage all of it. Olivia had made a throwaway comment about William needing to base himself in London or New York. Would he choose London?

Chapter 10

The small private jet landed late at a private airport outside of Dublin. Bridget had enjoyed hours of conversation with William during the flight. The four days spent in New York were such a whirlwind that they had tons to discuss.

She had been living a fantasy. Instead of worrying about her relationship with William, they had been open about it and photographed often. The nights had been pure pleasure and Bridget didn’t want to separate from him.

Climbing down the plane’s staircase, William stopped at the bottom and took her in his arms. “Come home with me.”

She wanted to keep up the pretense about their relationship now that they were back in Dublin. It was one thing for Olivia and his mother to know but quite another for the people they worked with to know.

Bridget clung to him and whispered, “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

He pulled back and looked at her. “We are in a relationship and to hide that feels wrong.”

“I’m tired and the work week starts in a few hours. It would be better if we each go home and talk later in the day.”

“Sure.” He led her over to his Range Rover and, after the crew brought over their luggage, they drove the short distance to Dublin.

She was handling this all wrong. “I don’t know how to navigate all of this.”

His jaw clenched and he said, “Playing the helpless girlfriend doesn’t reflect well on you. You are adept at handling a variety of situations. The issue is that you don’t want to deal with it.”

What could he possibly mean by handling situations? “We have talked about this. My career is important to me. I need to be able to support myself and help my father. I can’t throw it away on a romantic fling.”

“I’m not asking you to throw anything away. I’m asking you to be honest about it.”

What did he possibly know about starting from nothing? “William you grew up in privilege and never had to worry about your reputation.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “The fact that my father led a double life, was rumored to steal from his investors, and had numerous children with other women guaranteed that I grew up with a shadow following me everywhere.”

She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. “In New York, people couldn’t get enough of you. You are highly sought after and seem to have a flawless reputation.”

He slowed down for a light. “I’ve worked hard to create a positive reputation, but you were only around people who would overlook my family’s shortcomings. You weren’t exposed to those who would like to see me destroyed.”

He reminded her of a golden boy. Everything he touched turned to gold. “I can’t imagine there are people who would want to see you destroyed.”

His shoulders and neck held visible tension. “You were one of those people. There are hundreds more.”

“I’m sorry.” He was right. She had cast stones without really knowing who he was and what he stood for.

“I’ll drop you at your flat. This impasse is a deal breaker for me.”

Shock washed over her. That was not what she meant. She didn’t want to end their relationship before it got properly started. But it was complex and created numerous issues for them.

“I don’t want to end our relationship, William. I wanted to find a way to balance our right to some privacy with what we want to share with the outside world.”

He downshifted and stopped for another light. “It doesn’t work that way. Either you are willing to stand behind your choices or you are not.”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning and we are both tired. Can we discuss this tomorrow?”

He remained silent and she looked out the window. Her heart felt like it was shattering into tiny pieces. She had handled the entire situation badly. She ought to consider his viewpoint, but it was nearly impossible for her to trust that everything would work out. He physically craved a connection to her but hadn’t said how he felt about her. How could she possibly take a risk when she had no idea of how he felt?

If she were to tell him the truth right now, she would have to admit that she was in love with him. But how could that be? They had been seeing each other for less than a few weeks. She was setting herself up for heartbreak.

He double-parked and helped her with her luggage.

“Do you have your keys?” he asked.

She nodded and he said, “Goodnight,” and turned away from her without kissing her.

She stood on the sidewalk for a few moments watching his vehicle disappear down the dark street. She had offended him. She pushed him away and worried that he would not let her back in. Their trip had been so wonderful. Why did it have to end this way? What was she so afraid of?

***

The next morning, William went for a thirty-mile grueling ride at dawn. Getting back to his house before breakfast, he stood at the gate drenched in sweat and depleted but no closer to understanding Bridget. How could she be so open and caring in private and then shut down in public? He had thought their time in New York had proven to her that they could manage a professional and personal relationship. But she had not softened her stance. He couldn’t accept a secret relationship. He was not his father. He would not hide the truth.

His heart was pounding. He put away his bicycle. It hit him that he had put off meeting his brother for weeks so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ramifications. That would stop today. He would seek out the woman and her son.

He called to Mrs. Blake as he walked into the house. Coming out of the kitchen, she said, “Bridget is here. Are you wanting breakfast?”

“No. I plan to be away for a few days. Could you pack a bag? I don’t need suits. Casual and some biking gear is fine.”

Mrs. Blake said, “Bridget is in the kitchen. I’ll go and pack.”

“I’ll shower first. Can you keep her company for a few minutes?” He had expected her to go to Breen today and throw herself into work. Why would she decide to come here?

He stripped off his sweaty shirt and headed to his room. He wasn’t feeling calm or controlled. How was she able to mess with his head?

Getting out of the shower, he dried off and dressed in jeans and a dress shirt. The water had done nothing to soothe his nerves. He never allowed his emotions to overtake him, but right now he had the desire to fight with Bridget. He would refuse to back down and the relationship would be over. Maybe that was for the best?

Stepping into the kitchen, he saw her leaning against the counter and chatting with his housekeeper. Her fitted dress and narrow belt highlighted her slim build perfectly. A fierce desire burned through him and he ruthlessly pushed it away.

***

Bridget gazed at the open doorway and saw William watching her. Her heart squeezed in her chest. It had only been a few hours, yet she had missed him terribly.

Mrs. Blake dried her hands on her apron and said, “I’ll go and pack.”

William stepped into the room and she could feel the tension radiating from his body.

“I’m sorry, William. It was wrong of me to insist that nothing change between us.”

A silence descended on the room. He was not going to accept her apology.

He crossed his arms. “I don’t think a relationship between us will work. I want complete transparency and you need complete privacy. Trying to continually negotiate it will only lead to arguments and hurt feelings.”

She stepped towards him. Would he turn her down? “I’m willing to go for complete transparency. I’d rather risk my reputation than risk my relationship with you.” Could she risk her heart and survive the heartbreak if he decided he didn’t want to give it a try?

His head jerked back. “What? You are willing to admit to a relationship with me?”

She nodded and waited for his response.

He picked her up and spun her around. Slowly lowering her in his arms, he kissed her deeply. A feeling of breathlessness overtook her as her mind made sense of his reaction. He wanted the relationship. The risk no longer held any power over her. Happiness bubbled up inside her and she touched the flat surface of his chest and returned his kiss.

He held her in his arms. “I’m taking a few days and driving down to meet my brother. Can you come with me?”

She looked away. “We’ve been in New York. I need to get back to Breen.”

“I’ll send Jeremy and you can check in by phone.”

She thought about it. She should put work first, but William needed her. Meeting his brother was going to be emotional.

Pushing aside her doubts, she said, “All right. I’ll need to stop at my flat.”

***

Packing the Range Rover with cycling equipment, he asked Bridget to send a message to the management team that they would be travelling for a couple of days and would reach out to them later in the week. They had a four hour drive south ahead of them and had his assistant book lodging near a well-regarded touring area.

It crossed his mind that for someone who harped on openness, he was being somewhat mysterious. But he needed to find out who these people were before involving his sisters. Once the media got wind of it, there would be a firestorm of speculation.

He opened the door to the Range Rover for Bridget, but before she could climb in, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He craved her and it worried him. He wanted her along on this journey, which was odd for him. He usually wanted to be alone.

They drove to her flat and he waited in the car for her to pack. Turning off his phone, he listened to La Bohème and tried to dispel images of the last time he had seen his father. Did his father know that he would have another child? He could be walking into a situation that could plague him for the rest of his life or bring him enormous joy.

When Bridget retuned with her bag, he got out and placed it in the back seat.

“So we are also having a cycling adventure?”

“We can’t surprise them and then expect to spend the entire day with them.”

Bridget turned towards him. “They don’t know that you are coming?”

“I decided this morning, but my attorney sent a letter three weeks ago.”

***

After an uneventful drive, they knocked on a small wooden door to a stone cottage. The entire property looked like it belonged in the nineteenth century. He had the feeling that his father was with him. He ran a hand through his hair and pushed away the anger that coursed through his body. Why would his father be so careless?

A striking yet frail-looking woman with muted red hair and deep blue eyes opened the door. “Can I help you?”

He had expected her to look sickly. “I’m William Bolles and this is Bridget North.”

The woman paled and looked them over. “Please come in. Oliver is not home but will be in an hour or so. I’m Mary.”

It was odd to hear of another Bolles being called Oliver. He had barely gotten over his sister, Anna, naming her infant son Oliver.

He thoughts were hazy, but he could feel Bridget’s hand on his arm, anchoring him in the present. Mary was different from his own mother. She was charming but didn’t enhance her looks, instead seemed to play them down. Their house was so modest that he was ashamed of his father for not providing for them. The furniture was old and cheap. His father’s choices were odd. The women he chose to have a relationship with were vastly different. Had this woman been the love of his life?

He wanted to escape from the tiny house but forced himself to remain. “I apologize for intruding but couldn’t wait any longer. My attorney had sent you some paperwork, but it hadn’t been returned yet.”

“I’ve been recovering for the last few months and haven’t been able to get to everything.”

“Please don’t worry,” Bridget said kindly.

Mary moved about the kitchen and put on water for tea.

Bridget gently ushered him over to the pine table and pulled out a chair for him and then sat down next to him.

Mary served them scalding hot tea, taking a seat opposite them at the table. He decided not to ask about her illness. It was better to let her disclose information.

He kept his voice low and respectful. “I’m renovating The Donne Golf Resort and a few of the locals told me that you were in love with my father. It was widely known that when he died tragically you were carrying his child. Why didn’t you approach the family for help?”

She folded her hands. “It was a long time ago.” She looked away for a brief time, then looked at him. “What are your plans for Oliver?”

What could he possibly say? They were going to be at odds. They were from different social and economic worlds. “I’m curious about him. I’d like to spend some time with him and find out if he is interested in a establishing a relationship.”

Mary’s voice hesitated. “He is a good boy. He does well in school and likes football. But not having a family has been hard for him, especially when I got sick a year ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Bridget reached across the table and took Mary’s small hand in hers.

“I’m recovering, but during my hospitalizations, Oliver had to take a year off from school.”

William sipped his tea and listened to her. She had dedicated her life to Oliver and worried that she wouldn’t be around to guide or encourage him. He stopped himself from offering to take Oliver under his wing. It would be up to his brother.

He heard the door open and a young man call out, “Mama, I’m home.”

William stood up and came face-to-face with a younger version of himself. It was unmistakable. He was a Bolles. They could do sophisticated DNA testing, but it wouldn’t matter.

The boy held out his hand and said, “I’m Mary’s son, Oliver Barrett.”

He shook his hand and said, “I’m your brother, William Bolles.”

The teenager became still and the color drained from his face.

His mother went over and led him to the table. “I know it is a shock to meet your brother in this way. This is his friend, Bridget.”

He held out his hand to Bridget.

Oliver looked at him and said, “I never met my biological father. With all due respect, I don’t know what you want from us.”

Mary interrupted. “It’s not about wanting anything. It’s about getting to know your father’s family. You have a brother and two sisters.”

Oliver looked at his mother. “It’s always been you and I. We don’t need other people in our lives.”

He understood the boy’s reluctance to open himself up. He was at a difficult age. It was the age he was when his father died.

“Oliver, I know the entire situation is awkward. You can treat me like an acquaintance or a distant family friend.”

Oliver shrugged. “Fine.”

“Mary, are you well enough to come out for dinner this evening?”

Mary nodded. “I’m on the mend and can certainly have dinner.”

Oliver met his gaze. “I don’t want to have dinner and pretend this is normal. It would be better if you said what you came to say and then leave.”

“I’m not expecting you to be overjoyed at the prospect of having an older brother. It will take time to get to know each other. But doing small things such as sharing a meal or going for a walk will make this process more bearable.”

“You haven’t said what you want from us.”

This kid was impossible. “I want a younger brother. Someone who will kick the football around or go on an adventure with me.”

“I used to want that when I was a little boy, but now that I’m seventeen, I’m not interested.”

He stood up. “I’ll see you at dinner. Thank you, Mary.”

He heard Bridget say goodbye and could feel her arm linked with his as they walked outside.

Walking back to his Range Rover, images of his father assaulted him. He would need to relocate to London for a period of time if he was going to help Oliver get into a university and rebuild his family’s legacy. Eventually his brother would take on the Bolles name and he wouldn’t allow the media to make his brother’s life difficult.

***

William was quiet on the ride back to the hotel. It must have been odd to come face-to-face with someone who clearly shared the same genetic background. It was uncanny how similar the two looked.

“Do you want to relax at the hotel or go for a ride?”

“I’ll go for a ride.”

After checking in and changing into riding clothing, they went outside and took the bikes off the Range Rover. William went over her bicycle and then pointed for her to get the helmets when took his bicycle off the vehicle.

“Do you have the route mapped out?” Was he planning to do an insane amount of kilometers?

He put his helmet on. “I found a few different routes. Why don’t we start and see what happens? We only have two hours if we are going to make it back in time to have dinner with Mary and Oliver.”

Bridget lost all sense of time as she followed him through the winding roads. The area had rolling hills and pristine forests and was much more rural than she first realized.

Setting an intense pace, Bridget pushed herself to keep up with him. She thought about his family and how amazing it was to have siblings. Oliver would be a welcome addition to the Bolles clan. She could imagine how much love and attention his sisters would lavish on him. And William would take the boy under his wing.

Had he spoken with them already? In New York, Olivia hadn’t mentioned anything.

She had a couple of messages from Breen on her phone and she needed to throw herself back into work.

The hotel came into sight and she pushed herself to pass William. He caught up to her near the Range Rover and said, “You are amazing on a cycle.”

“I’m surprised we didn’t use the entire two-hour block of time.”

William climbed off of his bike. “I have a different activity planned for us.”

She laughed. “I have a few work calls to make.” Stepping off the bicycle, her legs could barely support her.

“The hills were intense.”

After dealing with the equipment, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her provocatively. “You should put off the calls.”

She could feel his hard body against hers and she didn’t have a chance. “Let’s go.”

An hour later at the restaurant, they waited for Mary and Oliver in the foyer. She could barely take her eyes off of William. The last hour between them had been raw and intense. He had wanted to pleasure her and didn’t stop until she was satiated and limp.

He held her hand. “I can’t wait to get this dinner over with and have you all to myself again.”

How could she have thought that they shouldn’t spend every night together? She would miss him when he traveled next.

Mary and Oliver arrived and they stepped forward to greet them.

William signaled the host and they were shown to a private table.

“Thank you for inviting us, William.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He took a look at the menu.

Bridget said, “We went for a bike ride this afternoon and the area is unspoiled and pristine. Spending so much time in London and now Dublin, the rolling hills and forests are majestic.”

“I came to this area when I was pregnant with Oliver. It was a magical place to raise a little boy. Now that he will be going off to university, it is far from everywhere.”

“Maybe I can convince you both to stay with me when you look at schools in Dublin. I live in a converted pub and there is a ton of space.”

Mary smiled. “That would be lovely.”

The waiter took their order and their conversation stayed carefree and easy.

***

Much later, when they were walking out of the restaurant, William said, “We are staying another day if you have time tomorrow.”

“Oliver has school, but I’ll be home if you want to come over for tea.”

William shook his brother’s hand and then gently hugged Mary. Bridget did the same and they watched the mother and son walk to their car.

“They are both lovely.”

William took her hand and they walked back to the hotel.

“I’ll have to tell my sisters in the next few days.”

She looked at him. “Why haven’t you?” Was he afraid of their reaction?

He shook his head. “I’ve been waiting to confirm a few things with a local attorney.”

“Oliver is you. How could you think for a moment that he is not your brother?”

“These things can be complicated. It’s smart to be careful.”

He was a man of integrity, clearly intending to help his estranged brother. Revealing a weakness was not something that came easily to him. But he’d allowed her to have a front row seat for the emotional meeting with his brother. Maybe they had a chance at making their relationship work.

Chapter 11

Bridget woke up on Friday morning entangled in William’s arms. Struggling to pull the sheet out from under her, she glanced at her phone. It was six o’clock in the morning. They were flying to London that evening, but she needed to spend the day at Breen. The company was devouring all of her energy and time, but it was starting to turn around. She lightly kissed William on his lips and he groaned.

He had not given her any assurances about the future. Taking a shower, she mentally went through her day and began to plan out what she could accomplish and what needed to wait. Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and went back into the bedroom.

William had woken up and was watching her intently.

“I’m needed at Breen this morning.”

His voice was rough and insistent. “I need you more.”

“Funny. But you have things to do as we are flying to London tonight.”

He propelled himself out of bed and walked naked over to her. “Your loss.”

She gave him a surprised look and went in search of her clothing. She had packed a bag two nights ago. She dressed in a stylish light tweed business dress with a narrow black belt and gathered her laptop and files.

***

They flew in his plane to London that evening. A hired car was waiting at the private airstrip to take them into the city.

“It’s odd to be here after two months. So much has changed between us,” Bridget said, walking in behind him to his London flat.

“I was fascinated by you from the moment you got off the train.”

She placed her handbag on the entry table. “Didn’t you hold a grudge from our first meeting?” Her heels clicked on the wooden floor.

“I couldn’t. You broke down all of my defenses.” He placed their luggage in the living room.

Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her. Pure pleasure swept through her and she clung to him.

He picked her up and carried her through the flat.

She held onto his shoulders. “I didn’t see your bedroom the last time I was here.” It was fun to be carried by him. He was strong and lifted her effortlessly.

“I would have given you a tour if you had asked.”

“I seem to remember you were all business that night,” she said teasingly.

He placed her on the bed and came down on top of her. “It was an act.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She ran her hands over his tightly sculpted chest and he let out a groan.

He kissed her neck and pulled her body closer to his. “You are wearing too many clothes.”

Running his hand down her leg, he removed one shoe and then the other. His hands glided over her thighs and undid her stockings.

Bridget stood and removed the belt from her dress and turned so he would undo the zipper.

His mobile rang and he cursed. Glancing at it, he said, “My mother texted and advised that I turn on the local news. How does she even know that I’m in London?”

He turned on the television and went in search of his laptop.

Bridget watched in shock. William and Oliver’s pictures were displayed next to each other and the reporter was commenting on past scandals that impacted the Bolles family. It didn’t make sense; how could the media possibly know about his younger brother? They had come to London so he could share the news with his sisters.

William walked back in the room as the reporter said that a person close to the family tipped off the London press. Sitting in a chair near the bed, he scanned articles on the Internet.

“I need to get in touch with the attorney that is handling the investigation. Mary and Oliver are going to need some advice in handling this situation.”

“It’s horrible.”

“You should get some sleep. I’m going to call my sisters, then get in touch with my attorney.” He disappeared and she went in search of her suitcase.

Bridget climbed into bed nearly an hour later after taking a hot bath and giving her aunt a call. Exhaustion claimed her and she didn’t wake up until sunlight was pouring through the windows. Stretching, she wondered why William wasn’t in bed.

She could hear raised voices and got up to get dressed.

A few minutes later, she found William sitting alone in the living room. He had showered and was wearing dress pants with a button-down, pressed shirt.

“Bridget.”

Her heart constricted and she wanted to throw herself into his arms, but something held her back. He was cold and distant.

“I hope you slept well.”

“I did.” There was a politeness coming from him that worried her. Was he angry with her?

William said, “We need to talk.”

A nervous tension was winding its way through her body. He was all business without any softening or playfulness. She could see rejection in every line of his body. He was going to end their relationship.

Sitting down, she smoothed the sleeveless dress over her legs. It felt like her world was about to end. She had fallen in love with him.

“I’ve decided to move my office to London for the foreseeable future. Your work life can remain in Dublin for the next nine months and then you will have the opportunity to return to London to look for work.” His announcement shattered her heart, but she wasn’t going to let him see her fall apart. Instead, she would hide her reaction and pretend everything was fine.

She stood up. “Why are you doing this?”

“My mother was here this morning. She found out you were the one to let the story leak about my brother to a London newspaper.”

She held her hands up. “That is not true. I would never do such a thing.”

His eyes were cold and assessing. “I have access to your banking records. I’ve already confirmed that a large deposit was made into your personal account two days ago from the same London media group that publicized the story.”

She stood up. “There has to be some mistake. I did not give the story to the press or accept any money. I wouldn’t do that.”

His eyes were downcast. “Then why is the payment in your account?”

Why didn’t he believe her? “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe someone is trying to make trouble for us?”

“It would be best if you gathered your things and returned to Dublin. It will give me time to sort out everything with my sisters. ”

She kept her voice neutral and didn’t look at him. “I don’t understand. I thought we were happy.”

He didn’t move. “I thought I could trust you.”

She promised herself that she wouldn’t plead or grovel. “So...you are going to believe that I did this horrible thing and not let me get to the truth?” Her voice sounded high and uncertain.

He stood up. “I can’t function without trust.”

He wasn’t giving her the opportunity to prove her innocence. He was more than willing to believe the worst of her. Why would someone go through all the effort of making her look guilty?

Her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. “There has to be a way that I can prove to you that it wasn’t me. I was set up.”

He crossed his arms. “I grew up with deception. I’ve never understood why anyone who go through such insane lengths to avoid the truth. You can just tell me that you thought the truth should come out.”

She held his gaze and knew that he wouldn’t offer her another chance.

“I’m not going to admit to something I didn’t do. At some point you will realize that you are wrong but it will be too late for us.” She stepped away from him. “Good luck, William.”

He studied her for a moment. “I wish you luck as well.”

He left the room and she wiped away a few tears. She had to stop herself from crying here. At home, later would be the time to fall apart. In truth, she was in shock. Her body felt cold and she couldn’t quite accept that is was over. She expected him to walk back in and take her in his arms. If he cared anything for her, he would do that and not expect her to walk away. Why didn’t he realize in his heart that she would never be capable of deceiving him? If he cared for her at all he would know that.

She went through the motions of gathering her things and then hailed a taxi. Why was this happening to her?

Chapter 12

William stood at the edge of the square mile in the financial district of London reflecting on his next move. In the last six weeks, he established a premier office space for Bolles Investments, hired five employees and convinced investors to place one hundred million with his firm. The amount was set to quadruple in the next quarter. The media had been drawn to his story and he had been portrayed as the golden boy of finance.

So why was he barely functioning and a shadow of himself? He had faced his fears and his so-called enemies had melted away into nothing. It had been long enough since his father’s death that the elite brokers and power investors were ready to move on. They were ready to get behind someone new.

The elite social events and dinners had women throwing themselves at him. But he could barely dance with another woman without feeling his heart constrict. He craved Bridget with an insatiable hunger that was beyond his ability to control. He had accused her of horrible things and thrown her out.

But his sisters wouldn’t leave the issue alone. Olivia insisted Bridget was innocent and confided in him that his mother had caused problems between her and Fionn. It had come down to jealousy and she had almost succeeded in keeping them apart. Olivia demanded that he look deeper and find out who spoke with the paper. Anna had called as well to show her concern and let him know that she believed in Bridget.

After six weeks, he finally had the proof that Bridget had been set up. How could he possibly fix it? Why would she forgive him? He shouldn’t have needed to proof to know that she was not capable of hurting him.

He had been wrong about her. She had been afraid of taking risks and compromising her reputation. Now it was surely destroyed. How could he have believed that she was capable of selling him out? It had been six weeks and she probably hated him.

William straightened his tie and crossed the street. He was meeting an old friend of his father’s for dinner. Afterwards, he would book his private jet for a flight back to Ireland. He needed her. Even if he had to win her heart all over again.

***

Bridget finished at Breen for the day. She hurried home to change into her bike shorts and reflective shirt to go for a night ride. The exercise had become part of her daily attempt to purge her sadness about William. He hadn’t called her since she left London, but his successful debut had been celebrated in the weekly management meetings. The other members of his team hadn’t pried into their relationship. Instead they gave her space and encouraged her to keep an open mind about everything.

Filling up her water bottle in the kitchen sink, she heard her buzzer sound. It was odd. Her father normally didn’t drop by and she couldn’t think of anyone else who would.

She pressed the buzzer. “Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

William. Why would he be here? “What do you want?”

“I need to see you, love. Please.” His voice shattered the shell she had built around herself.

She couldn’t go through another emotional conversation with him. She would fall apart. “I think you said everything that there was to say.”

“No, I haven’t and I’m prepared to wait all evening.”

“Come up.” She pressed the release button.

She opened the door and waited for him to come up the stairs.

He walked into her flat and her heart constricted. It was crazy, she missed him.

She turned away from him. “I can’t imagine that we have anything to say to one another.”

A silence spread out between them. She turned back and looked at him. He looked thin. Even though he found commercial success in London, he didn’t look happy.

“I’m sorry, Bridget. From the bottom of my heart. I was completely wrong.”

“I know that you were wrong.” Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. “But your apology means nothing to me. You may believe me now but the next time your bitter mother decides to frame me, it will be the same.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It was a despicable thing for her to do.”

“I agree.” She turned away from him.

“I’ve learned my lesson. I should have known that you were not capable of such deceit. I don’t know why I was so ready to believe the worst.”

“I do. You are not interested in a deep relationship. If things start to get hard then you look for an excuse to end it.”

“I’m interested in a deep relationship with you. Only you.” He reached out and pulled her into arms.

“Please don’t.”

“Please forgive me. I have something much more important to say to you, but I can’t say it until you forgive me.”

“I forgive you, William, but that doesn’t mean that I want you in my life.”

The color drained from his face. “I want you in my life. Forever. Would you marry me?”

He hadn’t even told her how he felt. “Marriage is not the answer.”

“I love you. I love you with my whole heart. I know I messed up. I intend to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I am trustworthy and loyal.”

She touched her throat. “I love you too.” Tears began sliding down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing. It’s just I missed you so much. I can’t believe that you are here and asking me to marry you.”

He gently wiped away her tears. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

He picked her up and swung her around in excitement.

“Do you want to go and tell your father?”

“No. Right now. I want you all to myself.” She held him tightly. She couldn’t believe that he came back. It was what she’d wished for every night. He searched for the truth and came back to her. But it would take a huge leap of faith to believe in him. Could she believe in him?

“I love you, Bridget North. I’ve loved you since our first meeting when you told me off.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I’ve held you in my heart since that moment. Someone I knew that you were the one for me. It took me a while to believe it. It took my losing you to know what a fool I’ve been. I’ll never doubt you again.”

She reached up and kissed him with all the pent up longing that she had pushed away. She loved him with a fierceness that surprised.

“I’ll never doubt you either.”

Thank You for Reading

Thank you so much for reading The Chosen Heir! I hope you’ll take a few minutes out of your day to review this book – your honest opinion is much appreciated. Reviews help introduce  readers to new authors they wouldn’t otherwise meet.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B017G92000/

The Bolles Dynasty Series

The Chosen Heir is the third book in a six book series. Each book is a stand-alone romance and tells the story of one of the Bolles family members.

The Forgotten Heiress

A bargain is arranged ….

Fionn Lynch is a self-made Irish billionaire, sought after for his striking appearance, razor sharp intellect and ability to thrive in volatile markets. When his mentor dies unexpectedly in a tragic accident, leaving his business and family in turmoil, Fionn steps in and takes charge. He seeks out estranged heiress Olivia Grey to help squash the unpleasant rumors. When the details of her secret past are leaked to the media, she must decide if she is willing to trust Fionn and allow herself to be drawn into her estranged family. Sparks fly between the two when he persuades her to accompany him to New York to salvage her family’s crumpling financial empire.

A shy clothing designer who was raised by a guardian in an attempt to save the Bolles family from shame, Olivia proves that she has the strength and determination to survive. She has to fight her way through relentless media scrutiny, memories of her father, and the expectations of the elite New York social world—all while trying to keep Fionn at arm’s length, for she refuses to settle for an emotionally distant relationship ever again.

It proves impossible to deny her attraction to Fionn. Is their growing bond enough to overcome all the obstacles thrown into their path?

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LDU740A

The Secret Heiress

Their paths cross again…

Finding it difficult to survive the emotional scars of being abandoned by her father and then rebuffed by billionaire Alistair Martin at a critical moment in her life, Anna Bolles avoids emotional entanglements until she is challenged to reinvent herself.

Alistair Martin is a hot, successful vineyard owner with a bad boy past who once kissed her with delicious demand. He has held onto a longing for the secret heiressbut she wants to prove that she is fully independent. Deciding to invest into her struggling company, Alistair insists that she meets his over the top challenges and prove that she is worthy of running a business.

It will take every scrap of ingenuity and drive she has to  launch her events management company while under the spell of this sinfully attractive billionaire. Ultimately, his need to avoid being tied down is put to the test as she slowly reveals her true feelings. Can they save the company and find their happily ever after?

Please keep reading for an excerpt of The Secret Heiress.

The Secret Heiress

Available at: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B014FMIDS4

Chapter 1

Anna Bolles meticulously worked on her end of day trades and steadied her nerves for the looming confrontation. Her lungs tightened as she silently rehearsed the words she would use to resign. She needed a new beginning, outside of her father’s shadow and away from all the negativity associated with the Bolles name. She needed to let go of the expectations forced on her and decide what she wanted for her future.

Working in the investment firm of Blackly Simonson was highly coveted and competitive, surviving the stressful environment was seen as a badge of honor, and those who thrived in it were well compensated. Unfortunately, it left her emotionless and apathetic. She needed more of a creative outlet; working in a wealth -driven and superficial environment was thwarting her efforts to build a life she cared about.

It was approaching five o’clock on Friday. If she was going to catch her manager before he left for the day, it had to be now. She had sold her expensive flat and was moving this weekend to a cheap, downtrodden neighborhood. And she had told her new employer that she would start Monday. Blackly Simonson would survive without her. She had completed all her back work and left copious notes on all of her clients’ investments.

Anna walked through the commercial accounts area, politely avoiding several of her colleagues who tried to engage her in conversation about plans for the evening.

She needed to do this, even if it was going to be hard. Smoothing down her gray skirt, she took in a restorative breath before handing her manager’s assistant a white envelope that would officially sever her ties with Blackly Simonson.

Anna spoke briefly with the assistant and waited for her manager to finish his phone call before popping her head into his office. The walls were made of glass and her co-workers would be curious about her meeting with the Division Leader, Seth Aronson.

He disconnected his call and stood. “Anna, you are looking beautiful as always.”

She moved her hair off of her shoulder. “I need to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

“Wow. That sounds ominous.” Seth gestured to a leather chair in front of his modern teak desk and sat down.

Feeling queasy, she slipped into the chair and forced herself to recite her practiced words. “I’ve decided to leave Blackly Simonson. Your assistant has my official letter of resignation.”

Seth gave her an incredulous stare. Holding his hands up, he said, “I don’t understand. You are brilliant at your job. The entire team has come to rely on you.”

Anna tugged a stray piece of hair behind her ear and tried to remain unemotional. She was desperate to escape her life and wouldn’t allow Seth to use guilt or misplaced loyalty to entice her to stay. “I need something different. I have been offered a position in a start-up. It’s an events management company that has several prestigious clients. It’s something totally different from working in the financial markets.”

“You are choosing to leave to work for an events company?” The tone of his voice was agitated and sharp. He shook his head before continuing. “You have an advanced degree in mathematics from Oxford and can do the daily analysis and negotiation of trades in your sleep. And the fact that you are a Bolles has given you celebrity status.”

She didn’t expect him to welcome her decision. “Exactly, Seth. There is no challenge.”

In some ways, she had been holding her breath since finding out her father had another family and she had two grown siblings. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint anyone in her life but it had finally occurred to her that she was disappointing herself. She needed to find something that would engage her interest and give her a sense of fulfillment.

He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t you feel any loyalty to the Bolles name? It has opened doors for you and sets you apart in this game.”

“We are coming at this from different perspectives. And no, I don’t feel any particular loyalty to my father’s legacy.”

Seth repeatedly tapped his hand on his desk. “As soon as the problems are solved then you will be bored, Anna. You have the ability to understand complex financial data and know how to play the market. You have a need to win at all costs.”

He was wrong about her. She rose to her feet and was careful not to show weakness. He had been a supportive boss, stepping in and insisting the ego-driven young males treated her with respect. Many of the divisions didn’t have the same leadership. “I’m sorry, Seth. I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me.”

Seth bolted out of his seat. “You are making a huge mistake. Being a Bolles, the financial world is in your blood. By leaving, you are closing the door on a well-paid and respected career path. It doesn’t make sense.”

She hated people using her father’s legacy to try and control her. She may be a Bolles now, but when it mattered, she was nothing more than a shameful secret. “If it is a mistake, it’s mine to make.”

“Is this happening because the firm hired Sebastian Fox? I tried to prevent it.”

Anna shook her head. She wasn’t leaving because she was afraid of Sebastian. She had put the entire blackmailing incident out of her mind but it did highlight the fact she needed to create a more meaningful life for herself. She had been going through the motions of a successful life but felt almost nothing.

He lifted his phone and spoke in a resigned tone to security. Replacing the handset, he said, “Good luck, Anna. The door will always be open if you decide to return.”

The firm insisted that security escort anyone who gave notice out of the building. The act of leaving was viewed as disloyal and the company wanted to protect their client base. Knowing all of this didn’t make the coming scene any easier.

Anna opened the glass door and a security officer met her in the hallway. Walking back to her cubicle, she picked up a small box from under her desk containing her personal belongings.

A hushed tone had come over the cavernous space and the man who sat next to her said, “You gave notice?”

She nodded and couldn’t wait to escape the surprised and perplexed looks. She needed a few minutes to process her conversation with Seth before she would be able to answer questions.

Someone else called out, “Meet us at Martin’s tonight.” She got on well with her colleagues, steadfastly ignoring all of the suggestive invites and obvious flirting while helping to solve issues and sharing her knowledge of the market. She wanted the opportunity to wish them well and explain why she was deciding to leave.

The security officer asked for her badge and ID and then took a look in her box of personal items. She walked with him to the elevator.

Riding down to the lobby in a tense silence accompanied by the security guard, a thousand thoughts flowed through her mind. She hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake. She understood the financial world and it probably was in her genetics.

She wanted a different life. She was tired of entertaining clients who drank too much and lived to party. She had worked extraordinarily hard for the company over the past two years, but with each passing day she became more unfulfilled. Being one of the only women, even with the Bolles name to protect her, made her a target.

She nodded to the security officer and walked out the front revolving door and headed down the busy London sidewalk. It was closing time in the markets and the brokers and deal-makers were getting off work.

Awkwardly carrying the cardboard box in the busy rush hour crowd announced to absolute strangers that she had either been fired or had given notice. Anna made her way over to a trash receptacle and, looking into the box, removed an antique letter opener, a pair of sunglasses, a silk scarf, and a few favorite pens and tucked them into her handbag. She tossed the remaining items into the trash and then took apart the box and placed it in a recycle bin. Anna wanted to escape the spotlight but realized she should be celebrating—she had narrowly escaped a life destined to be overly competitive, at times morally bankrupt, and seen by most as a mindless rat race.

Within a few short blocks, she walked into her apartment building. Taking the elevator to the twelfth floor, she opened the door to her luxurious flat. The furnishings were mostly white on white with an occasional splash of pink. She was going to miss this place if she were being honest. She had decorated it herself and it was her first real venture into adulthood.

There were open boxes everywhere. The movers were coming Sunday to put most of her furniture in storage. She had found a cheap studio apartment in an old area of London. She would need to conserve every pound if she was going to be self-sufficient and be able to live on the small salary from the start-up.

She walked into the bedroom and stripped off her work clothes. She opted for a pair of low cut jeans and a button-down white cotton shirt. She pulled on black boots and put her blond hair up into a French twist.

She had promised to meet a few of her co-workers for a celebratory drink. She needed closure. Most of them would think her decision to leave was foolish. Afterwards, she would drop by her mother’s house to share the news before someone else told her. It would be an unwelcome and difficult conversation.

She called Frances Casey, her new partner and business associate, and relayed the good news. She was now free to throw herself into Gala & More. The two of them spoke for several minutes about upcoming events and then planned to meet on Monday.

Walking into the pub a short while later, Anna saw that her former colleagues were already having a pint and good naturedly ranking on each other. She couldn’t relate to the male bonding taunts and insults. It was an unspoken expectation that they would treat her differently.

One of her male colleagues said, “Anna, I can’t believe you told Seth you are out.”

Someone handed her a pint of Guinness and she took a swallow.

“It was hard.” She regretted her choice of words, given the audience of young, boisterous men.

Truthfully, she wouldn’t miss most of it. Not the backbiting behavior, not the old boy’s network, and certainly not the constant sexual harassment. The men who worked in the financial district wanted well-paid commissions, the ability to take huge adrenaline-pumping risks, and access to scores of sexual partners.

Everyone began asking her questions at once. Holding up her hand, she said, “It’s a huge shift. I don’t have a ton of experience with event planning, but I needed to explore a different career path.”

Watching the curious looks that everyone gave her, she could tell they were surprised and uncertain about her career choice. But all seven of the male colleagues that gathered for a drink with her, wished her well.

She hoped that leaving the financial world wasn’t a huge mistake, but she couldn’t wait to embrace her new life. She may be making a huge mistake but it was hers to make.

***

Alistair Martin walked into the pub and his eyes were drawn to a beautiful blond girl drinking a Guinness. Dressed in tight-fitting jeans and slim leather boots, her charming laugh and graceful body set off a rapid-fire urge to approach her. It was absurd; he had never set eyes on her before. How could he possibly be so drawn to her?

He turned his attention back to the pub. He was doing a surprise walk-through of his flagship microbrewery. It was his most lucrative pub. Observing the wait staff, he could tell they were trying to warn each other. His expectations were high but fair-minded and he had a reputation for an over-the-top work ethic and a razor-sharp mind.

But his gaze returned to the group of investment bankers out for an after-work drink. The woman was in her mid-twenties and seemed to be at the center of the conversation and laughter. They were obviously celebrating something.

Why was he enthralled by this particular beauty in sexy jeans? Alistair stayed motionless as she turned and placed her empty bottle on the table and waved to the group. She walked straight towards him and he had the odd feeling that he knew her.

She had a beautiful body that was feminine and her movements had a vaguely familiar quality. Her face had only a trace of makeup, but she had a polished, graceful look about her. Their eyes met and she hesitated for a split second.

She nodded in acknowledgment. “Mr. Martin, it’s lovely to see you again.”

Why couldn’t he place her? He couldn’t imagine bedding her and not remembering the encounter. His body reacted swiftly to her nearness.

“I can’t think of how we know each other.” He looked into the crowd, trying to cool his reaction. Could she be an employee in one of his establishments?

“It’s not a big deal. We met ages ago at a gathering.” She was inching away from him and he could see the manager of the brewery in the distance trying to tactfully get his attention.

He reached out and grasped her arm. “Care to refresh my memory?” A physical longing surged between them and he pushed it aside. He didn’t want to let her go until he made sense of their past connection. She was the type of woman who would disturb his dreams. He was drawn to her secretive answer. Clearly, she didn’t want to drag up the past.

***

Anna panicked. The last thing she needed today was to revisit her immature seduction of the great Alistair Martin. It was seven years ago and when he’d realized she was Olivia’s sister, he had rejected her.

Unfortunately, her teenage obsession with him had never ended. These days, she was careful to keep away from him, which wasn’t particularly difficult since he was work obsessed and hated children’s celebrations.

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m not sure that would be wise. Cheerio.”

Alistair tightened his grip, halting her exit. Her heart raced and she could feel a nervous tension building in her stomach.

He held her gaze. “You are so familiar. It has been several years.”

“Possibly.” She had caught a glimpse of him the previous Boxing Day but made a swift exit through the garden so she wouldn’t have to speak to him.

She knew tons about him. The sad truth was she would scan the internet for photographs of him when she had a spare moment and had followed closely all of his business ventures. Arrogance surrounded him. Alistair Martin dressed in expensive suits that clothed an extremely fit body. He was well known for his charity football matches and Iron Man adventures. He oversaw an extremely prosperous distillery empire and closely managed acres and acres of a third generation winery in Southern England. He was an extremely gifted mathematician, but instead of seeking his fortune in the financial world, he chose agriculture and vice.

“You are Olivia’s younger sister.”

She nodded. He did remember her. In fact he was probably thinking about her awkward attempt at seduction after drinking too much at Olivia’s wedding. The hot encounter where he practically stripped her naked until he realized who she was. Somehow being Fionn’s sister-in-law put her off limits. He had asked her age and cursed when she had told him. After that, he barely looked at her. Instead, she ceased to exist in his world. Yet she craved the smallest glimpse of him.

She needed to escape. “I should be going.”

He let go of her arm but held her with his intense gaze. “I’m hosting a charity ball at my house outside of London in a week. Fionn and Olivia have promised to put in an appearance. Come with them.”

He handed her a business card and she politely nodded. She wouldn’t go. Her life was in turmoil, and she didn’t need additional drama. Alistair had met her father, Oliver Bolles, several times before his tragic death in a motorcycle accident. It was too much of the past. She was trying to create a new life for herself.

Anna shrugged and, stepping away, said, “I don’t think so. I’m rather busy with work at the moment.”

He held her gaze a fraction too long, then said, “Possibly another time then,” and walked away from her.

Anna regretted not accepting his invitation but knew nothing good would come of her obsession with him. She forced herself to leave the brewery and head towards her mother’s brownstone. Attempting to banish the image of the strikingly handsome Alistair Martin from her mind, she thought about her mother’s coming reaction to her change of careers.

Anna needed to think about her new job. It would take every scrap of energy and focus. The start-up firm that hired her was short-handed and they were frantically trying to put together a launch party for a new magazine.

Anna thought about Frances Casey, an old acquaintance who owned the firm and was about to go out on maternity leave. Her sister had pushed her to take the interview, telling her that the numerous events that she helped out with at the fashion house would be enough experience to throw herself into the start-up. But there was a huge difference between helping out in her spare time and being responsible for an entire event.

Ringing the doorbell at her mother’s mansion, Anna took a deep breath and hoped the news wouldn’t be too upsetting for her. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but she had learned that it was better to face issues head-on than trying to slowly finesse the outcome. Her father’s deceptive behavior had scarred her. She had a steadfast need to tell the truth and she wouldn’t allow herself to soften the message. Unfortunately, her mother relied on appearances and half-truths to conduct her life so it wasn’t always easy to have a heart-to-heart with her.

Her mother’s housekeeper, Gertie, opened the door and ushered her in.

“So nice to see you, Miss Anna. Your mother is in the library.”

She smiled at the older woman. “Thank you. You as well. I hope things are good?” Gertie had been working for her mother since Anna was twelve years old. She much preferred to chat with Gertie, as she was always warm and inviting. But in this case, she needed to tell her mother the news herself.

Gertie said, “Yes. It’s been quiet.”

Gathering her courage, an image of Alistair Martin popped into her head. She couldn’t believe after years of avoiding him, she turned around in a pub and he was standing there. On the day that she had decided to risk her future and drastically change her life. He hadn’t even recognized her at first. She had successfully avoided him at every recent social occasion. It wasn’t that difficult. He often arrived late, with a different girlfriend in tow, and Anna would go early and stay for a brief time.

Her mother looked up from the newspaper. “Anna, darling. I’m surprised to see you on a Friday night.”

Her stomach churned and for a split second, she wondered if she would be ill. “Yes, well… something has come up and I wanted to talk with you.”

Her phone vibrated and she read a text from Olivia, Desperate to speak with you. Did you give notice?

Her mother said loudly, “Gertie, would you be a dear and bring Anna some tea?”

The housekeeper left them and Anna sat opposite her mother on a Victorian-style sofa. This wasn’t going to be welcome news for her.

Anna pushed down the anxiety building in her stomach. “Mother, I’ve come to a rather surprising decision and I hope you’ll be able to listen with an open mind.”

He mother frowned. “It can’t be good news or you wouldn’t find it necessary to forestall my objections.”

She met the older woman’s unflinching gaze. “I know you have been proud of my accomplishments at Oxford and happy that I’ve been working for Blackly Simonson.”

Her mother eyed her speculatively but remained silently sipping her tea.

Gertie appeared with a small tray for her, and Anna accepted a hot cup of tea, waiting for the housekeeper to leave them. It was better not to drag Gertie into the coming scene.

She took a sip and then placed the teacup down. “I gave notice today at Blackly Simonson and was escorted out of the building.”

Her mother choked on her tea. Gasping, she asked, “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I’ve accepted a position as an events coordinator for a small start-up.” Anna held up her hand. “The woman who launched the company is pregnant and needs to bring in a partner. It’s just getting off the ground but has a few prestigious clients.”

Her mother’s face tightened. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to plan weddings and such?”

Anna took another sip of her tea. “It’s not a wedding planning business. It’s focused on corporate ventures. They have a contract to coordinate a show at the National Gallery in a few months and a launch for a new perfume.”

“You intend to become a gloried party planner instead of working in the financial world?” Her mother’s voice rose to fill the large room.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” Elizabeth Harris valued wealth and appearance. There is no way her mother would understand her need to seek a different life.

Her mother’s voice was brittle and harsh sounding. “You are just like your father. You are so secretive and selfish. You only do things that benefit you instead of thinking about your family.”

Anna stood up. If she stayed longer, it would turn into a contest of wills with her mother trying to beat her down.

Her mother’s hand tightened on her teacup, causing it to rattle. “You’ll be broke within a fortnight and I won’t give you a pence towards your mortgage payments.”

Anna knew enough to have contingency plans in place. Her mother was not one for helping out or supporting a new idea.

“I’ve already sold my flat. I understand that this venture comes with risk, but if it doesn’t work out then I’ll try something else.”

Her mother put her hand on her forehead. “If you cared for me at all then you wouldn’t make a mockery of my sacrifices by throwing it all away.”

She had heard this line of guilt so many times that it washed over her without hitting its mark. Parents were expected to educate their children and make sacrifices. She would do the same one day for her children.

She needed to be alone. “I’ll text you my new address and work information.”

Her mother stood. “You shouldn’t have sold your flat. It was in one of the best buildings in London.”

She did sell it. If she held onto it, it would have kept her locked in a career path that she had no interest in. “I wouldn’t have been able to afford the mortgage on the small salary that I’ll earn for a while.”

“You are making a colossal mistake.” Her mother’s negativity washed over her.

She kept her voice neutral. “It’s mine to make, mother.”

Anna could feel the tension in every muscle of her body. Walking out the front door, she wished their relationship could be less adversarial. She cared for her mother, but the bitter woman saw the world so differently. Elizabeth Harris cared about appearances. Her father deceiving them with his double life hadn’t helped. Her mother had only become more rigid and unforgiving. Being raised as an only child put enormous pressure on Anna to succeed. She was a natural scholar, so it became a game to achieve academic excellence. But she needed to figure out what would bring her fulfillment and happiness.

She was tired of working with men from impressive schools, born into wealth and without concern for the greater good in society. As a lot, they were spoiled, superficial and ego-driven. They wanted models as girlfriends and reliable, exercise fanatics as wives.

She wanted more from life than to become someone’s wife. She hated to think about her father but forced herself to consider why she failed at close relationships. Her father pretended he was averse to commitment while he had a family in London and a wife and son in New York, and another daughter being raised by a guardian in Ireland. Was it any surprise that she had difficulty trusting men?

Anna pushed the negative thoughts from her mind. She was heading over to see her sister and her nieces and she didn’t want to worry them.

Ringing the doorbell to her sister’s residence, she waited only a minute before her little niece greeted her. Whenever she visited Olivia’s townhouse, memories of Alistair popped into her head. She had kissed him in the back garden and had never been able to completely get rid of the image from her mind. It had been an uncharacteristic moment of madness. She always did the right thing and rarely took chances.

“Auntie Anna, have you come for my bath time?” The small blond girl reminded her of herself as a child.

She scooped the five-year-old into her arms amid a flurry of giggles, saying, “I’d love to give you your bath.”

Olivia appeared with her two-year-old in her arms. “Fionn has a late flight so we can chat once these two lovelies are in bed.”

After a drawn out bedtime routine, she and Olivia stretched out on the sofa, each with a glass of chardonnay.

“Your girls are delightful, Liv.”

“They are missing Fionn, but somehow we survived the week.”

Her sister looked happy. Even juggling a successful fashion business, motherhood, and an endless romantic fascination with Fionn, her husband, she looked calm and rested.

Anna bit her lip. “I took the plunge today.”

Her sister squealed. “You resigned?”

She nodded. “Yes. I sold my flat and decided to accept the job. It’s going to be feast or famine for a period of time, but I’ll make it work.”

“If you need any help, let Fionn and I know and we can advance you some money.”

Anna looked down at her glass. Olivia cared about her and had enormous resources but she wanted to succeed on your own. She didn’t need her family’s help.

Olivia touched her glass to hers. “Congratulations. You’ll be amazing at events planning.”

She pushed away her worries. “I even stopped in and told my mother. I was just working up to it when I got your text.”

Olivia grimaced. “That couldn’t have been pleasant.”

Anna took another sip of her wine. “She didn’t take it particularly well.”

Olivia placed her glass on the ornate table. “You have to silence the naysayers and follow your instincts. I texted you earlier because I had a feeling.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in thought.

Anna glanced at her phone. “I ran into Alistair Martin at his brewery this evening. He invited me to a gala at his house and mentioned you and Fionn are going.”

Olivia nodded. “He does an annual black tie fundraiser for homeless and disadvantaged youth.”

Anna met her sister’s gaze. “He is quite a saint.”

Olivia shook her head. “It would be a good networking opportunity for you. You’ll need to begin thinking about bringing in future clients. Landing his account would be tremendous for your new company.”

She took another sip of wine. “I’m sure Alistair has in-house staff to coordinate his events. He wouldn’t take a risk on a start-up venture.”

“The man is all about risk.” Olivia winked at her.

“I doubt he takes risks with his business.” If she wasn’t careful, her sister would slip into matchmaking mode, when what Anna needed was to expel her teenage fantasy of Alistair Martin from her life and move forward.

For too many years, she’d carefully avoided him and his rejection. She needed to banish him from her dreams. After coming face-to-face with him tonight, it would be harder. The excitement from seeing him earlier in the evening eclipsed all other feelings. The excitement continued to heighten her awareness.

Olivia went into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of cherries. “As you know, Alistair is a good friend of Fionn’s. I’m sure Fionn would be willing to approach him for you. In the wine industry, there must be tons of events.”

The last thing she needed was to be thrown into Alistair’s path. The man was unforgiving and intense. “Maybe in the future. I need to find my footing before seeking out such a well-known client.”

Her sister looked at her speculatively. “You’ve always been a little odd around Alistair. It’s almost as if you avoid him at all costs.”

Anna took another sip of wine. “We had an awkward encounter at your wedding and I prefer to keep a safe distance.”

She remembered the passionate kisses almost as if it happened yesterday. It was in the back garden, in her mind she could see the fig tree where she had attempted to seduce him.

Olivia’s hand flew to her chest. “Was he rude to you?”

She shook her head. “No. Actually the opposite. I fancied him, and after sneaking a glass of champagne, I kissed him and he took me in his arms and kissed me back.”

Olivia reached out and touched her arm. “I had no idea. What happened?”

“I don’t think he knew who I was at that point. After a few exploratory kisses in the darkness, Fionn called my name and he stepped back, surprised.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. He couldn’t get away fast enough.”

Olivia looked at her softly. “You may be reading too much into it. It was seven years ago and a few stolen kisses. I doubt he regrets it.”

Anna shook her head. “He did at the time. He lectured me about modesty and not encouraging advances that I wasn’t ready to handle.”

Olivia gave her a searching look and then placed her hand on hers. “I’m sorry, Anna. That does sound awkward. But it was a long time ago. It’s best to forget it even happened.”

“I agree.” She had tried to forget about Alistair Martin but for some odd reason, he fascinated her. Deciding to change the subject, she asked Olivia “Do you have any advice on the start-up?”

Olivia sat back and crossed her legs. “If you are serious about succeeding with this start-up, then you will need to use your contacts to find work. There will be many titans of business there. Go and network. I’ll help you.”

The conversation moved to the fashion business and they chatted for a long while about the upcoming season. Anna helped her sister brainstorm about possible venues for a boutique show until they heard Fionn unlock the door.

Anna hugged her sister. “I’ll call you later in the week.”

“Good luck. Let me know if I can help you.”

Waving to Fionn on her way out, she avoided any mention of Alistair. Anna was sure he had no interest in seeing her get involved with his childhood friend. Fionn was an over-protective brother-in-law and would sometimes treat her as if she were a child. She loved that he cared but she needed her freedom and the space to make her own mistakes.

She walked to the metro and acknowledged to herself that finding out she had two grown siblings was the best thing that could have happened to her. She hadn’t resented them for a second. Her life had been so lonely that she instead embraced them without restraint. Olivia was kind and nurturing. She had taken Anna under her wing and had stayed involved through all of the ups and downs of her life. Her brother, William, was sheer fun. He was the same age and was always encouraging her to let her hair down and add some pleasure to her life. Without them, she might have allowed herself to not fully live. But now with the changes ahead, that wasn’t an option for her. They inspired her to explore her talents and ambitions.

Contemplating the week ahead, Anna realized there was a ton to do. The movers were coming on Sunday and she needed to have everything packed up. She tried to banish thoughts of Alistair from her mind but kept replaying the chance meeting in her head. Why did she care so much? She needed to move on and not think about him.

Purchase the Secret Heiress or read it for free with Kindle Unlimited:

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About the Author

Amazon bestselling author Susie Warren writes heartfelt and passionate contemporary romance with tempting, larger than life heroes and smart, sassy heroines. The stories are set in elite and glamorous worlds and appeal to readers looking for an escape from everyday life by offering jet-set lifestyles and sophisticated plots. Her category length series, The Rosa Legacy and the Bolles Dynasty, feature remarkable, stylish women and the sinfully tempting heroes that challenge them to reveal their secrets, their strengths and their deepest emotions. Susie lives in New York with her inventor husband and their three lively teenagers.

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Title Page

Copyright

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

Thank You for Reading

Excerpt

About the Author