Never Mine: The Rich List Book 1

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by Connelly, Clare




  Never Mine

  The Rich List Book 1

  Clare Connelly

  Contents

  About the Author

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  Never Mine

  The Sheikh’s Baby Bargain - Excerpt

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  Books By Clare Connelly

  About the Author

  Clare Connelly grew up in a small country town in Australia. Surrounded by rainforests, and rickety old timber houses, magic was thick in the air, and stories and storytelling were a huge part of her childhood.

  * * *

  From early on in life, Clare realised her favourite books were romance stories, and read voraciously. Anything from Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, to Mills & Boon and (more recently) 50 Shades, Clare is a romance devotee. She first turned her hand to penning a novel at fifteen (if memory serves, it was something about a glamorous fashion model who fell foul of a high-end designer. Sparks flew, clothes flew faster, and love was born.)

  * * *

  Clare has a small family and a bungalow near the sea. When she isn't chasing after energetic little toddlers, or wiping fingerprints off furniture, she's writing, thinking about writing, or wishing she were writing.

  * * *

  Clare loves connecting with her readers. Head to www.clareconnelly.co.uk to sign up to her newsletter, or join her official facebook page.

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  www.clareconnelly.com

  Follow Clare on Social Media as @Clarewriteslove (because she does)

  And if you loved this book, please take a moment to leave a review once you’re done. Thank you!

  All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention.

  All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.

  The illustration on the cover of this book features model/s and bears no relation to the characters described within.

  First published 2021

  (c) Clare Connelly

  Contact Clare:

  http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk

  Blog: http://clarewriteslove.wordpress.com/

  Email: [email protected]

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  Join Clare’s Newsletter to stay up to date on all the latest CC news. http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk/subscribe.html

  Never Mine

  Prologue

  “C’MON, MAN. YOU KNOW I don’t do this kind of work anymore.”

  “I thought you were the king of personal security?” Grayson Fortescue’s droll tone hid a rising surge of panic, a tenor that would have gone undetected by almost anyone. But Noah Storm wasn’t just anyone, and he knew Grayson better than most. Which was why the request from one of the world’s richest men had Noah stopping in his tracks.

  “I presume you’ve handed this matter over to the police?”

  “Of course, my security has informed the local jurisdictions. And after a six-month investigation, they’ve drawn a blank. No one knows who this guy is, nor how the hell he stays one step ahead of the army of security I’ve already engaged, but he does, and he’s getting closer.” Silence fell as Gray went quiet, leaving only the distant droning of Manhattan’s traffic to fill Noah’s office.

  “Closer how?”

  “This morning, he slashed Max’s car.”

  “The tyres?” Noah prompted with a frown.

  “No. The leather interior. Somehow the prick got into a secured garage, her Mercedes, all without setting off a single alarm. Forensics are going over the scene now, but so far, they’ve drawn a blank. Not a fingerprint, a hair, a bead of sweat.”

  Noah compressed his lips, professional instincts firing to life. Such careful execution of an attack was definitely a bad sign. There were crimes of passion, attacks motivated by spur-of-the-moment opportunity – and these events left tell-tale detritus. Clues. Evidence. But a perfectly enacted contact such as this spoke of a chilling level of ability and planning.

  “It’s my sister, Noah.” Grayson’s words were raw, heavy with the weight of his responsibilities, and they reached right into Noah’s heart. He knew what it was like to lose a sister; he knew the pain of not having done enough to protect her. “I need your help to keep her safe.”

  But Noah hadn’t done personal security in a long time. He preferred to pull the levers of his company, overseeing security arrangements of one of the top agencies in America from his office in New York.

  “I can organize my top guy…”

  “You’re the top guy, the only one I trust. It has to be you.”

  Noah stared out of his window, his symmetrical face held in a mask of tension. With a jaw that was carved by granite, his face was angular and determined, every inch of him in command at all times.

  “Ever since we started appearing in that bloody Scott Gazette Rich List we’ve had to deal with this kind of thing, but this is a whole new level. It’s madness. I’m really worried for her, Noah.”

  Noah sighed heavily. “I get it. But there must be security firms in the UK who can handle this? People already on the ground?”

  “They’re not you. I need the best.”

  Noah was silent, processing that.

  “I’d offer you all the money in the world, but I know that’s not what motivates you. So tell me what I have to do to convince you?”

  Noah ground his teeth together, frustration whipping at the base of his spine. They both knew the answer to that: Noah owed Grayson his life. If Grayson needed a favour now, then Noah would deliver on it.

  “Does she know how I work?”

  “No. But she’s scared. She’ll cooperate.”

  “If I’m doing security for someone, I take charge of their whole damned life, Gray. Every iota of their life. It’s the only way I can do my job.”

  “She’ll hate it,” Gray admitted with a humourless laugh. “But she’ll accept it, because Max is a pragmatist and she doesn’t want to die. She’s scared, not that she’d admit it. When can you be here?”

  Noah spun away from the window and began to stride towards the door. “I’ll get the red-eye.”

  “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.”

  “But you tell your sister that I’m in charge. If she wants my protection, she has to do what I say. Got it?”

  “Yeah, sure. See you in the morning.”

  Chapter 1

  “ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO DAMNED way.”

  Maxine Fortescue’s eyes were the most striking shade of green, like the froth of the ocean on the silver sands of the beach on a blustery afternoon. They moved with icy disdain from the figure of her brother, Grayson, to his best friend Noah, an accusation in the line of her features as she shook her head. Her face was pale, her lips rimmed with white as she compressed them in a visible indication of tension.

  “You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Noah folded his arms over his chest – a broad chest that, even through the good quality cotton of his button-down shirt showed well-defined pectorals. He was aware of Max’s gaze dropping instinctively, before firing back to his eyes.

  “I told her we’d need to change up the arrangements,” Gray responded with an indolent shrug.

  “I thought you meant a review of our existing security.” Max reached for a button on her p
hone and pressed it. A moment later, a woman appeared, dressed in a black pencil skirt and cream silk blouse, her dark hair pinned into a sleek bun at her neck.

  The tension lifted for a moment and Maxine smiled. “Good morning, Rachel.”

  “Max.” The woman’s nod was the last word in efficiency. “Would you like a coffee?”

  “Thirty, actually,” Maxine responded in the same droll tone her brother used when he wanted to deflect attention from the seriousness of his mood. “Or one very, very strong one.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Gray?” Her gaze travelled back to Noah’s face. “And I’m sorry, what did you say your name is?”

  He bit back a sarcastic smile, because it was such an obvious play. He knew, from the research he’d conducted on the flight over, that she was far too brilliant, focused and professional to have forgotten his name.

  “Noah.”

  “Right. Noah Storm,” she drawled his last name with a hint of cynicism, as though he’d made up the moniker.

  His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “I’ll take a black coffee,” he turned to face the brunette. “Thank you, Rachel.”

  He hadn’t intended to make a point, to show that remembering names was a simple courtesy, but a hint of colour fired in Max’s cheek anyway.

  “I know you and my brother are friends,” she softened her tone with obvious effort, apparently trying a different tack. “And if we were meeting under any other circumstances, I’d be delighted to know more about you. But this has been a ridiculously crazy twenty-four hours and I’m tired, and irritated, and frankly sick of being told what to do. I understand you’re worried,” she pivoted back to Gray. “But I’m under control. This guy, whoever he is, hasn’t really got close to me. I know the car thing is…new,” she said, only the way she pressed her fingers into the surface of her desk, so hard the tips of her nails went white, betraying the anxiety behind her casually-delivered explanation. “It just means I have to change things up a bit. I’m in Paris tomorrow, anyway.”

  “And so might he be,” Grayson responded flatly. “I’m sorry, Max, this is non-negotiable.”

  Anger whipped around the room, unmistakable. “Says who? You don’t get to decide this unilaterally.”

  “You need protection, and I can’t do it. I can’t keep you safe.” Gray strode towards the desk, moving around it in three easy steps and putting his hands on Maxine’s forearms, turning her to face him. “I have tried. I have hired different security firms, bought new monitoring equipment, everything I can think of, but the truth is, I just can’t catch this son of a bitch.”

  “And he can?” She challenged.

  The door opened again as Rachel returned carrying a tray with three coffees and a plate of biscuits. Noah moved towards the door on autopilot, catching it to hold it open for her. Her eyes flicked over him with an obviously assessing glint – a response he was used to. At thirty four years of age, he was familiar with the effect he had on women, an affect he’d started to notice and appreciate as a boy of just sixteen. He knew it would take very little to charm Rachel, to wrap her around his little finger until she was eating out of the palm of his hand. If he were so inclined. But he wasn’t.

  This wasn’t a pleasure trip, it was business, and Gray needed Noah to make this work.

  He turned back to Max, wishing there was a way he could avoid going for the jugular so soon – if at all. But his initial instincts had only strengthened as he’d familiarized himself with the material Gray’s head of security had emailed over.

  “A month ago, you received this postcard from your stalker, right?” Noah asked, as Rachel left the room. He held up a picture from the file, a bright photograph of a butterfly with a chilling message on the back: so much prettier when trapped in glass, not flying free.

  Max barely looked at the postcard. “Yes.”

  “I see they spent a fair amount of time looking into the Miami connection.”

  “Because of the postmark,” she pointed out crisply.

  “It’s fake.”

  Gray stiffened. “How do you know?”

  “Because of the insignia. See?” He pulled his phone out as a point of reference, showcasing the subtle but appreciable differences. “This wasn’t posted from Miami, and given the lack of other postmarks, it wasn’t sent via mail at all. Which means it was hand delivered.”

  Max did an excellent job of maintaining an unruffled expression, but again, it was her hands that gave her away. They lifted to a necklace she wore, a diamond shaped more like a crystal, long and angular; she ran it over the chain from side to side, her lips pursed.

  Beside her, Gray swore.

  “We already knew he had my home address,” she responded quietly, the words brave when he could tell she was terrified. “It’s no worse than that.”

  “He was in your damned street, Max, completely undetected. Another way he’s evaded our security. Surveillance. Who the hell is this?”

  “And what does he want?” Noah responded, his eyes narrowing as he studied Max. She met his gaze fiercely, her chin angled with a determination he admired.

  “If the way he slashed my car up is any indication, I’d say he wants to kill me.”

  Noah was no longer aware of Gray in the room. He saw her fear, her acceptance of the fact she was a hunted animal, and he knew the time was right to throw her a lifeline, to offer her a way to escape – but he also knew that the decision to take it had to be hers.

  “I will help you, Maxine. I will keep you safe. But only if you let me.”

  “I have security,” she responded, the words firm even when her voice was quiet.

  “I’m not like normal security. For the next month, or as long as it takes to apprehend your stalker, I will be your shadow. You will hate the sight of me. At the end of it, I will hate the sight of you. But you’ll be alive, safe, and he’ll be behind bars. Is that what you want?”

  Her lips parted, the brutal description of what their working relationship would be obviously jarring.

  “I presume you’re exaggerating for effect,” she said after a beat.

  “I never exaggerate.”

  “I don’t want a shadow.”

  “That’s the way this works.”

  “Max, listen to him,” Gray interrupted, but Noah shot his friend a warning look. This had to be a deal struck between Maxine and himself. He couldn’t protect a person if they resented his presence, if they tried to lose him or confuse him. This required total cooperation.

  “I am listening,” she responded, taking a long drink of her coffee then turning, moving to the windows that framed a picture-perfect view of London, the Thames a glittering snake slithering with lazy indolence through its center. In profile, Maxine was, somehow, even more striking than in photographs, her beauty ethereal and compelling, her slender body stirring every masculine instinct Noah possessed to life.

  “Your life will be an open book to me for as long as I protect you.” His voice was deep and gruff. “Every email, every call, every interaction I will know about.”

  She whirled around, the look of being hunted growing stronger. “So I’m trading in one stalker for another?”

  “I have no interest in killing you,” Noah said with firm honesty.

  “And you agree he does?”

  “Yes.”

  She shivered, taking another sip of coffee. “Are those measures really necessary?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you have to know everything about me and my life?”

  “I have to know what will keep you safe. I have to be able to evaluate threats. I presume you want this matter concluded as swiftly as possible?”

  She nodded stiffly. “Obviously.”

  “It’s not obvious, actually,” he responded, mentally forcing himself to tone down the sarcasm in his voice. “If anything, your lifestyle over the last six months has been a flagrant invitation –,”

  “How dare you?”

  “You stick to the same routine when you are in Lond
on. Every morning, the same run, the same route, the same coffee shop at almost exactly the same time. If you were attempting to give someone a roadmap to stalking you, then you’ve done it.”

  “So we’re victim blaming now?”

  “Of course not. But given the threat, I can’t believe no one has advised you on the basic steps you could take to improve your personal safety. All I can conclude is that you get a thrill out of taunting this guy.”

  The sound of her sucking in air filled the room.

  “Noah,” Gray’s voice held a warning. “It’s been a tough day. Maybe you could check the fire-breathing dragon act at the door for now?”

  Noah turned to his friend, only in that moment, they were no longer friends, but client and bodyguard, and his principal concern was delivering the hard facts so that both of them were shaken awake. “You hired me knowing what that would mean. If you’ve changed your mind, say so now and I’ll leave. If you want me to stay, then this is the way it is. There is no compromise here – compromises get people killed.”

  Gray’s green eyes were locked with Noah’s silver, a silent battle raging between them until finally, Gray nodded, then turned to Max. “We’re hiring him. That’s final.” He moved to her, pressing his thumb to her chin and staring into her eyes. “I can’t lose you. Okay?”

  She opened her mouth to argue but something passed between them, an understanding that years of being twins had fostered in their souls.

  “For one week,” she agreed finally. “And only on a trial. If, after seven days, I don’t want to do this anymore, you have to let me fire him.”

  “You won’t need to fire me,” Noah promised. “If you’re not convinced you need me after seven days, then I’ll walk out of your life without a backwards glance. Deal?”

 

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