Snowbound with the Brooding Billionaire, page 1
And then she pointed. “Look! A shooting star.”
It was visible for only a few seconds, but he saw it streaking across the sky, a trail of silver and turquoise like a lone and silent firework. “They’re meant to be lucky. And you’re supposed to make a wish when you see one,” he said.
“A wish.” She looked wistful.
Whatever she was wishing for, he’d make it come true. If she’d tell him what she wanted.
He knew what he wished for.
He wanted her to kiss him.
She looked up at him, and he felt his heart stop for a moment.
And then, at last, her mouth was touching the corner of his. Every nerve ending zinged with awareness of her.
“Sophie,” he said softly and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip. “Sophie.”
Those beautiful blue eyes were huge in the starlight.
And he couldn’t resist her anymore.
He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Once, twice. The lightest touch, but it made his whole body ache with need.
And at last she was kissing him back, her arms wrapped around his neck and his wrapped around her waist.
Dear Reader,
I thought I’d set myself a challenge with this one. Like my heroine, I am not a fan of snow. So what would make someone who hates snow and is terrified of even the idea of skiing go to work in a ski resort? And why would a world-skiing champ stay incognito in said quiet little resort? (I did have the setting, though. The Dolomites—particularly in the middle of the summer, when I visited—are stunning.)
When Sophie’s and Josh’s paths first cross, it’s dislike at first sight. And awkwardness. They’re the least likely people to get together, particularly as they both have trust issues. Yet the romance of Christmas and snowflakes and a cottage in the middle of nowhere make them lower their barriers and fall in love—until his past returns to tear them apart...
Can they find their happy ending as the snow falls? You’ll have to read on to find out!
With love,
Kate Hardy
Snowbound with the Brooding Billionaire
Kate Hardy
Kate Hardy has been a bookworm since she was a toddler. When she isn’t writing, Kate enjoys reading, theater, live music, ballet and the gym. She lives with her husband, student children and their spaniel in Norwich, England. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com.
Books by Kate Hardy
Harlequin Romance
A Crown by Christmas
Soldier Prince’s Secret Baby Gift
Summer at Villa Rosa
The Runaway Bride and the Billionaire
His Shy Cinderella
Christmas Bride for the Boss
Reunited at the Altar
A Diamond in the Snow
Finding Mr. Right in Florence
One Night to Remember
A Will, a Wish, a Wedding
Surprise Heir for the Princess
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
With much love to Gerard, Chris and Chloe, who indulged me with that research trip to the Dolomites!
Praise for
Kate Hardy
“Ms. Hardy has written a very sweet novel about forgiveness and breaking the molds we place ourselves in...a good heartstring novel that will have you embracing happiness in your heart.”
—Harlequin Junkie on Christmas Bride for the Boss
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Excerpt from Prince’s Christmas Baby Surprise by Ellie Darkins
CHAPTER ONE
‘I LOVE YOU, HAN,’ Sophie said, ‘and I really appreciate the offer, but we both know I can’t really stay as long as I like. Your spare room’s going to be your nursery.’ She indicated the bump under Hannah’s maternity sweater. ‘Which you’re going to need in three months’ time. So it’s time for me to help you decorate it—and move out.’
Hannah folded her arms and glared at her. ‘You’re my best friend, Soph. I am not letting you be homeless.’
‘I won’t be homeless,’ Sophie said, hoping she sounded a lot more sure than she felt. ‘As soon as I get a job, landlords will see me as a viable tenant and I’ll be able to rent somewhere.’ Through the tricky bit, she thought with an inward shiver, was going to be getting a job in the first place. ‘Hopefully the temp agency will find me something.’
‘You’ve applied for forty positions, Soph. Surely one of them will give you an interview.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘You cook like an angel. Look at all the reviews your restaurant got. People love your food.’
Sophie believed in her own professional capabilities. But the black mark against her was so huge that she could see exactly why nobody had even offered her an interview. ‘Would you employ someone whose business had crashed? Someone who might bring all that bad luck with her?’ she asked.
‘It wasn’t your fault that you had to sell the restaurant,’ Hannah said loyally.
Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, it was. You know those horror movies where someone goes to investigate strange noises in the basement on their own, and you know they’re going to end up in trouble because of it, and you’re shouting at the screen, “Don’t do it!”? Let’s be honest, Han. I’m on a par with that.’
‘You,’ Hannah said, ‘were swindled, when you were trying to make the world a better place. Which is not the same as being a too-stupid-to-live horror movie character.’
‘The end result’s the same,’ Sophie said softly. ‘The restaurant’s gone—along with my flat. And Mum and Dad must be looking down on me, wondering how I could’ve been so stupid as to let my inheritance fall through my fingers like that.’
‘Your mum and dad,’ Hannah corrected, ‘would’ve been so proud of you. You put the money they left you into the restaurant, and you’ve built up the business.’
‘And I trusted someone to look after the money side of it for me.’
‘Blake swindled you,’ Hannah repeated. ‘And if he hadn’t skipped off to a country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with England, he’d be in court right now for fraudulent appropriation of funds.’
And how stupid had Sophie been? Thinking that Blake wanted her for herself, that he loved her and he’d asked her to marry him because he wanted to settle down and make a family with her. The family she’d lost and missed so much. The family she’d wanted so desperately.
All the time, he’d quietly been planning to empty the restaurant’s bank account; as the restaurant’s admin manager, he’d been a signatory on the account. Sophie had trusted him to pay the bills, sort out staffing and supplies, and arrange everything so she could concentrate on the main business: making the best possible food for their clients.
She’d been doing well enough to consider expanding the business. Liking the idea of being able to do something in the community and give a chance to people who’d struggled at school, the way she had, she’d found a second premises. She’d even applied for a mortgage and was waiting for the building survey to come back to see if they could move forward.
And then, the day before month-end, Blake had called in sick, saying he’d gone down with the flu and she wasn’t to come round with chicken soup or anything because he didn’t want her to catch the virus from him. He’d stayed in touch on his mobile all day, texting her to apologise for not being in, and she’d been touched by his dedication.
The following day, her suppliers had started calling to say their bills hadn’t been paid. Her staff had all come in, aghast, saying their wages hadn’t gone into their bank accounts. And then, most horrible of all, the bank had called to say that she’d gone beyond the level of their agreed overdraft.
An agreed overdraft that was much, much bigger than she’d expected.
It seemed that Blake had stopped all the direct debits the previous day and transferred the money from the account—along with the amount of the overdraft she’d known nothing about—into some offshore account that was completely untouchable.
When she’d called him to find out what was going on, a recorded message told her that the number she was calling was unobtainable.
She’d gone to his flat; it was empty. And none of his neighbours had a clue where he was.
Blake had told her he had no family, but the police managed to trace his parents; it turned out they’d been estranged for years and they had no idea where he was.
He’d vanished.
Along with the money.
She’d had to sell the restaurant to repay the overdraft, settle the wages and pay the outstanding supplier bills. She hadn’t even been able to sell her engagement ring to go towards the bills; when she’d had it valued, the solitaire diamond in its platinum setting had turned out to be cubic zirconia set in silver, with a resale value of practically nothing.
Luckily the business had been sold as a going concern, so her staff still had their jobs. She
The one good thing was that she hadn’t been declared bankrupt. She could start again without that against her name, at least. But who would take a chance on her, after her appalling lack of judgement?
‘Which brings us back to our very stupid horror movie heroine,’ Sophie said wryly. ‘I shouldn’t have trusted him in the first place. But we’d been engaged for a year, Han. We’d been together for nearly two. I didn’t think a swindler would wait that long?’
‘If they were playing a long game, they would,’ Hannah said. ‘When Blake came into your life, you’d only recently lost your parents in that car crash. You were filling the gap with building up the business, and that meant you were vulnerable. And, instead of seeing the lovely woman with a big heart that you really are, I think he saw your inheritance money. He played you, Soph. I just wish you’d got me to check the agreement you had with your new bank.’
The change of account that Blake had persuaded her to make because she’d get a better rate of interest on her balance.
What she hadn’t realised was that he’d applied for a larger overdraft at the same time. And she’d trusted him, as her admin manager, to get the details right.
She wished she’d run it past Hannah, too, but at the time her best friend had been undergoing IVF, and Sophie hadn’t wanted to put any extra pressure on her. ‘I can’t change the past. All I can do is learn from it—and I’ll never, ever let anyone be a signatory on my account again.’ She sighed. ‘Though it could’ve been worse. OK, so I’ve lost the business and my flat and I don’t have any money, but I’ve still got Mum’s wedding ring and Dad’s watch. If I’d been made bankrupt, the court would’ve made me sell them, too.’
‘And I would’ve bought them and kept them for you until the bankruptcy was discharged. Only you,’ Hannah said, ‘could see a bright side in this. Six months pregnant or not, if Blake was in front of me right now I’d punch him really, really hard. Break his nose, and possibly another couple of bits of his anatomy.’
Sophie smiled wryly. She could imagine Hannah—who could be very scary indeed—doing just that. But she’d resigned herself to the situation. ‘I admit, I’m hurt and I’m angry and right now I’m feeling very stupid about trusting someone who lied to me, but what’s the point in getting worked up over something I can’t actually change? I’d rather spend that energy picking myself up, dusting myself down and starting all over again.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I know nobody’s given me an interview so far. But I can kind of understand it. I’m either stupid or unlucky, depending on your point of view, and nobody wants their business tainted with that.’
Hannah coughed. ‘If it had happened to someone else, you would’ve given them a chance.’
True. But Sophie knew that not everyone saw the world the way she did. ‘Nobody’s going to give me a junior position,’ she continued, ‘because I’m overqualified and they’ll think I’m not likely to stay any longer than it’d take to find something more suited to my skills. So that rules out the permanent jobs. But, if I’m a temp, that takes out any potential recruitment or bad luck issues because I won’t be there for long enough to have an impact. And Christmas is coming; everyone needs extra staff to cope with the office parties from around mid-November. The temp agency’s my best chance. Then, once I’ve got some up-to-date references, I can start to find something permanent.’
And, as if on cue, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen. ‘It’s the agency. Fingers crossed they’re ringing with an interview.’
‘Take the call,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ll go and make us a cup of tea. Good luck!’
By the time Hannah came back with two mugs of tea, it was a done deal.
‘You’re looking at a proper chef again,’ Sophie said, beaming.
‘Fantastic!’ Hannah, clearly delighted, hugged Sophie. ‘Where is it and when do you start?’
‘Ah. That might be the catch,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s at a ski resort in the Dolomites. And they’re flying me out the day after tomorrow—apparently the season won’t really start until the end of November, but they like staff to settle in and do the training, and be there to look after the people who come just before it starts getting busy.’
‘The day after tomorrow?’ Hannah stared at her, looking shocked. ‘You’re never going to have time to arrange that!’
‘Most of my stuff’s in storage already, and it won’t take me long to sort out the rest,’ Sophie said. ‘My passport’s in date. It’s Italy, so I don’t need any extra vaccinations. All I really need are snow boots and a coat—and ten minutes in a sports shop will sort that for me.’
‘But you can’t ski,’ Hannah said.
‘I’m not going to be skiing. I’m going to be the chef in a posh chalet,’ Sophie said. ‘Absolutely no skis required.’
‘And you hate snow.’
‘Because I’m clumsy and I fall over all the time.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘But I guess at least there the snow’ll be deep enough that if I fall over I won’t hurt anything more than my dignity.’
‘You—and snow?’ Hannah looked anxious. ‘Soph, are you sure about this?’
‘No,’ Sophie admitted, ‘but I think it’s the best chance I’ve got. And maybe challenging myself a bit might help me to get my self-esteem back. I need a fresh start, somewhere nobody knows me.’ And then maybe she’d stop feeling quite so useless and stupid. But the one thing she was clear on: no more relationships. No more putting her trust into someone who’d let her down.
* * *
How could one single day suck all the light out of the world? Josh wondered.
But today would always be his dark day of the year. The anniversary of the day his life had unravelled. He’d lost the championship and Annabel in very swift succession. Gone from being on top of the world to the bottom of a very deep and very dark hole: sixty miles an hour to zero in what felt like a nanosecond.
In the following months he’d focused on his physio. Worked on his knee every single day. Forced himself through the pain. Blocked out the unfair and untrue media stories and tried to persuade his family—and the friends who’d stuck by him—that he was completely fine. He’d almost persuaded himself that he was completely fine.
And then, last month, his surgeon had sat down with him to discuss his future.
‘It’s up to you, Josh,’ the consultant surgeon had said, leaning his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers. ‘The surgery was a success. You’ve done well with your rehab. But, if you go back to skiing competitively, it’s not a question of if you’re going to have another knee injury, it’s a question of when. Next time you might do even more damage; I might not be able to repair it if you damage your patella tendon as well as your anterior cruciate ligament and meniscus. So you need to make a decision. What would you rather do: go back to competitive skiing now, or still be able to walk unaided in twenty years’ time?’
What kind of choice was that? Josh had been horrified. ‘Competitive skiing’s what I do. It’s who I am.’
And if he couldn’t ski...
He was privileged, he knew. Born into a seriously rich family so he’d been able to indulge his love of skiing—and his talent. For years Josh’s father had wanted him to give up what he considered a seriously dangerous sport and join the family firm, with the aim of becoming CEO of the family software business. All Josh had to do was smile and agree.
Though, if he did that, Josh knew it would crush his big sister’s dreams. Lauren had worked her way up through the company to become head of development. She’d be the perfect person to be CEO of Cavendish Software. She’d proved herself and she deserved the position. He absolutely wasn’t going to shove his sister out of the way.
At the same time, Josh knew that the surgeon was right. He’d seen so many injuries happen on the slopes. He knew a few people who’d given up while they could still walk away; and he knew a few more who’d carried on until they’d had one injury too many and there was no way back.
