Enchanted: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 4)

by Tracie Delaney

  Or maybe never.

  2

  One year later

  Belle

  Come on, lights. Change, damn you.

  Cars zipped along the street, the crosswalk sign obstinately stuck on red. I glared at it as if shooting daggers in its direction would have any sway and checked my watch for the umpteenth time, cursing the stupid bus for being late. I should have taken an earlier one and saved myself a lot of stress as well. If I landed this job, two things were going to happen: one, I’d buy Zak an electric wheelchair, and two, I’d get a blasted car.

  A drop of water landed on top of my head, followed by a second and a third. I glanced at the gray clouds rolling in. Are you kidding me?

  Risking my life—and a fine I couldn’t afford for jaywalking—I darted into the traffic, ignoring the blaring horns and rude hand gestures, and made it to the other side unscathed. As I ducked inside the hotel, the heavens opened. Phew. Lady Luck was with me for once. Arriving for an interview looking like I’d showered in my clothes wasn’t a good idea.

  I riffled through my purse and pulled out the details the agency had sent me. The Mercury Suite, eleven a.m. I checked around, searching for directions. Ah, there. I crossed the vast lobby and peered up at the chrome-and-black signage. After following the arrows, I eventually found the right room. I was still five minutes early, but never mind. Better early than late. I rapped twice on the door.

  “Come in.”

  I pressed down on the handle and entered. My gaze fell on two men dressed smartly in dark designer suits and power-color ties. I managed to suppress my astonishment. They were far younger than I’d imagined. When I’d applied for the job, I’d carried out scant research, discovering the owners of this hotel chain also owned several other successful businesses. Somehow, I’d envisaged them to be in their forties or fifties, but these guys couldn’t be more than thirty. I wished I’d reviewed their website more thoroughly now. I hoped they hadn’t noticed my surprise.

  “Hi, I’m Izabelle Laker. I’m here for the interview.”

  Both men rose to their feet and fastened their suit jackets, then extended their hands.

  “Thanks for coming, Miss Laker. I’m Sebastian Devereaux, and this is my business associate, Garen Gauthier. Please take a seat.”

  I shook first Sebastian’s hand and then Garen’s and pulled out a chair. Smoothing my skirt beneath my thighs, I sat.

  “Would you like some water?”

  “Please,” I said, only then realizing how dry my throat felt. After a few tiny sips and a couple of deep breaths, my shoulders relaxed. I could totally do this. I didn’t usually get nervous before interviews. It had to be the salary on offer, almost twice what I earned in my current role as an assistant manager of a retirement home. I loved my job, and I’d be sorry to say goodbye to my residents, a lot of whom were like family to me, but I had to put Zak’s wellbeing first, and the money being offered would make such a difference to our lives. Besides, from what little I knew, this sounded like an easy gig.

  Sebastian kicked off the interview, scanning down a sheet of paper I recognized as my resume. “I see you’ve made a career out of caring for people, Miss Laker.” He lifted his chin and smiled. “What is it that appeals to you so much?”

  I smiled in a way that I hoped came across as being professional and friendly. “I’ve always found a lot of personal joy and satisfaction in caring for others. I’ve known since I was small that I wanted to work in this sector in some capacity.”

  He nodded and jotted something down on a white, thinly lined pad.

  Garen, the other interviewer, asked me a question next. Back and forth they went, their questions drilling deeper and deeper. These guys were clearly outstanding interviewers. Then again, they must have done it a lot.

  I held my own, although their faces gave nothing away. Finally, after almost an hour, Sebastian put down his pen and rested the edges of his knitted hands on the table.

  Phew. Almost there. Don’t screw up now.

  “Do you have any questions for us?”

  “Um, yes, just a couple. The agency told me the role is to act as a companion. Could you tell me more about the man I’d be caring for? Is he your grandfather?” I glanced between the two of them.

  Sebastian’s smile held a hint of sadness. “Not exactly. He’s only thirty-one.”

  “Oh.” I sat a bit straighter and nibbled on my lip. Gah! You’d have thought the agency would have told me. I just assumed, given the role of companion, it was for an elderly man who’d lost his wife, perhaps.

  “Sorry, the agency never said.” And I didn’t ask.

  I should have asked.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We purposely kept the details scant on the brief.” He glanced at Garen who gave the smallest nod. “Upton is our best friend, and our business partner. Together with three of our other best friends, we run a global corporation, ROGUES. You’re sitting in one of our hotels, but that’s only part of our brand. Upton runs our West Coast operations, or rather he did up until a year ago.”

  My interest piqued, and I automatically leaned forward. “What happened a year ago?”

  Another glance at his business partner. Another confirmatory nod.

  “Upton, along with his sister and her best friend, attended the Savage Groove concert.”

  My heart all but struck the floor, and a jagged wound reopened in my chest, one I tried to stitch together on a daily basis in the knowledge it never took much to rip it open again.

  I hadn’t expected a bloodbath today, though.

  “Oh God,” I whispered.

  Sebastian continued, almost as if I hadn’t interjected. “His sister and her friend both died. Upton survived. And he’s never forgiven himself for it. Since then he’s dropped out of life, becoming almost a recluse. He’s not interested in anything. He’s basically given up.”

  “The main thrust of this role,” Garen explained, “is for the successful candidate to try to succeed where we’ve failed. To show him that life is worth living, to give him hope for the future. To be there if he decides to talk. He won’t listen to us. We’re too close to him, too much a reminder of what his life used to be like. There may be some light duties, but he has a full-time housekeeper who does most of the work, as well as a gardener slash handyman to take care of the externals.”

  Sebastian sipped his water, then refilled his glass from a jug in the center of the table. He held it up to me. I nodded, accepting a refill, too.

  “Full disclosure, Miss Laker. We’ve hired several other people over the last nine months. Seven, to be exact. Some haven’t done too badly. One lasted four weeks. Another didn’t even make it through a single day. This isn’t an easy job. Upton can be very difficult, and that’s putting it mildly. At times, he’s cantankerous and prone to terrible mood swings. At others, he’s silent and withdrawn. The successful candidate will earn every penny of their salary putting up with him.”

  “Survivor guilt,” I muttered, my voice almost inaudible judging by the frown that arrowed Sebastian’s eyebrows inward.

  “What did you say?” he asked, not unkindly.

  I locked my gaze on his. “He’s suffering from survivor guilt. That’s a pretty tough place to be. His bad moods don’t surprise me at all.”

  The two men shared another one of their secretive looks. I’d started to wonder if they were telepathic or, more likely, they just knew each other well enough to communicate without words.

  “You sound as though you’re speaking from experience,” Garen said.

  I glazed over, my mind pulling me to places I didn’t want to visit. Dark places. I shook my head as if that simple movement had the power to push the thoughts away. It didn’t. Keeping busy and helping others was the only medicine I’d found that came close to giving me a shred of peace.

  I’d wanted this job badly, mainly for the money. Earning a bigger salary meant I could make life better for Zak. Now that I knew more about Upton Barrick, I wanted it even mo
re.

  No, not wanted.

  Needed.

  Had to have.

  Dammit, would have.

  “We all have our demons, Mr. Gauthier. I’m aware that hiring anyone is a risk to an employer, and you haven’t had the best of luck so far, but if you give me a chance, I know I can help your friend. I have an abundance of patience, I’m not easily scared away, and he can yell at me all he likes. It still won’t be as bad as some of my elderly patients suffering with dementia. Now they know how to cuss someone out. You have to be tough to survive in my line of work.”

  His eyes bored into mine, and it took a huge effort not to turn away, despite what I’d just said about being tough. Intimidating didn’t even begin to cover it when describing his expression. I’d bet he was fearsome in his business dealings.

  I shifted in my seat, held back a shiver of disquiet, and kept my eyes on him, refusing to even blink, my face open but not defiant.

  “He will do everything in his power to make you quit. You can bank on that.”

  I smiled. “I like a challenge, Mr. Gauthier.”

  His lips curved at the edges, a barely there smile, but noticeable all the same. He shot a quick sidelong look in Sebastian’s direction and whatever he saw sent him to his feet. He reached across the table and thrust out his hand. “Just as well, Miss Laker, because you have a helluva task ahead of you.”

  My lips parted, half in shock, half in utter delight. We shook hands. “You’re offering me the position?”

  “It appears so,” he said.

  I tamped down on the urge to punch the air—yeah, so not a professional response—and shook Sebastian’s outstretched hand also. “Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.”

  “A little bit of free business advice,” Sebastian said. “Don’t promise what you can’t say with certainty you’ll deliver, Miss Laker.” He added a grin and returned to his seat. “We’ll have the contract drawn up today and couriered over. For every month you stay, we’ll add a small bonus on top of your salary. If you somehow give us back our friend…” He trailed off, his gaze wandering to the window, almost lost in his thoughts. “If you perform a miracle, Miss Laker, I, personally, will ensure you are rewarded handsomely. But let me be clear; he will offer you more money than we are paying to leave. He’s done it before, and he’s nothing if not consistent.” He laughed, but it came out as bitterness steeped in loss. “However, I warn you, if you accept his offer, you will be in breach of contract, and we will come after you with the full force of the law.”

  His geniality disappeared, replaced with a hard edge that hadn’t been present until now. During the entire interview, he’d come across as far more amiable and friendlier than Garen, but it turned out both men were hard as nails. Unsurprising, really. No one reached the pinnacle of the business world without having a spine of steel and Teflon-coated broad shoulders.

  “I’d never do that,” I said, inserting a steeliness of my own to my tone. “I have both integrity and staying power in spades.”

  As well as my own reasons for wanting this role, which I don’t intend to share with you or anyone.

  His smile returned. “Good.” He walked around the table separating us, then opened the door. “We’ll be in touch.”

  I stood and shook his hand once more. “I look forward to it.”

  3

  Belle

  Miracle of all miracles, the bus arrived right on time, which then meant I arrived at Upton Barrick’s mansion in Malibu ready for my first day forty-five minutes early. The house was hidden behind an enormous set of oak gates, and the entire property was ringed by an eight-foot brick wall.

  My gaze alighted on a keypad to the side of the gates, and I thought about letting myself in using the security code provided in the letter that accompanied the contract. However, the letter also stated that Sebastian Devereaux would meet me out front at eleven a.m. If they’d wanted me to use the code, they would have said. Pissing off my new employers on day one wasn’t the best idea.

  As the heat rose, sweat beaded along the back of my neck and between my boobs. I rummaged in my purse and managed to find a tissue. I turned my back in case any passing motorists saw what I was doing.

  “Miss Laker.”

  I spun around. Unfortunately for me, I still had my hand inside my cleavage. I whipped it out, but not fast enough. Sebastian Devereaux greeted me with an arched eyebrow and a faint smirk.

  “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you yet,” I said, stuffing the damp tissue into my jacket pocket.

  “Clearly,” he drawled, but his eyes twinkled.

  Thank God. The man had a sense of humor.

  “I caught an early bus. I didn’t want to be late.”

  “Let’s get inside, shall we? It’s oppressively hot today.” He tapped on the keypad, and the gates swung inward. He gestured to his car idling by the curb. When I stayed where I was, he smiled. “It’s a long walk up to the house.”

  Oh.

  I climbed in, and the air-conditioning blasting from the vents immediately cooled me. Sebastian steered the car up a winding driveway with a fairly steep incline that I wouldn’t relish walking in the depths of winter, let alone on a hot summer’s day. I’d need to get used to it, though. The bus didn’t offer a door-to-door service.

  “How are you feeling about today?” he asked.

  Like throwing up or wishing I could skip past the next few days and get over day one struggles.

  “Nervous,” I admitted. “But excited, too.”

  He nodded. “He knows we’re coming. Suffice to say he isn’t happy.”

  “Then why does he let you in?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Couldn’t he just change the code or refuse to answer the door?”

  “He did, at first. Didn’t do him any good, though. Now he’s resigned to the fact we’re not going anywhere, and no matter how much he tries to push us away, he’s wasting his time.” His face darkened, sadness tugging the corners of his mouth downward. “He’s my best friend. I miss him terribly. We all miss him.”

  “He’s still in there, somewhere, lost in his grief. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

  The car stopped, and Sebastian cut the engine, shifting in his seat to face me. “Will he?”

  It was hard to miss the spark of optimism in his eyes, but I’d guess he’d gone there a few times over the last year only to have his hopes dashed. I was so lucky to have Zak. Despite all he’d suffered, the one thing he’d clung on to was his steadfast belief that alive and unable to walk was a far better outcome than death. If he’d sunk into a deep depression like where Upton Barrick appeared to be, I wouldn’t be able to take it. Guilt drowned me on the best of days. Zak’s continued optimism allowed me to breathe, to cope with the terrible remorse that still gave me nightmares, even after all this time.

  “I’ll do everything I can.” At least I understood his pain.

  Sebastian’s eyes dulled. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  I climbed out of the car, and only then did I notice the house.

  Wow.

  I’d expected wealthy, especially with a Malibu address and the number of businesses this guy’s company owned, but this…

  A massive brick-built structure towered above me, three stories high. To the front, pristine gardens and colorful borders filled with summer flowers softened the appearance, and large trees offered dappled shade from the heat of the sun.

  “Whoa. That’s some house.”

  “It might as well be a prison,” Sebastian said, his voice filled with so much sadness, my chest tightened. He inhaled deeply. “Follow me.”

  We entered the house through a large entranceway that had several doors leading off and a curved staircase which went up to the upper levels. I hurried after Sebastian, my heels clicking on the marble tiled floor, and arrived in an enormous kitchen, all sleek lines and contemporary design.

  Sebastian introduced me to the housekeeper, Barbara, then motioned for me to follow him outside. “Come on. Let’s intro
duce you to Upton.” He flashed a smile. “Buckle up.”

  A prickle of unease took root at the base of my spine, and I furtively wiped my palms on my jacket. I’d dealt with difficult people before. I had the techniques, the coping mechanisms. All would be fine.

  I hoped.

  I caught sight of a dark-haired man sitting at a table, a parasol providing a little shade. He had his back to me, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance across an expansive backyard, as pristine as the front with grass so short and even, it could have been cut with scissors rather than a lawn mower. Sunlight glinted off an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and several loungers were dotted around.

  “Upton,” Sebastian called out, ambling over.

  Upton didn’t move. He didn’t acknowledge us at all, his eyes still trained on a row of towering trees.

  “This is Izabelle Laker,” Sebastian continued, seemingly unperturbed by his friend’s silent response.

  “Hi.” I moved into his line of sight. “Call me Belle.”

  He slowly turned in my direction, and his eyes latched on to mine. Whatever he saw on my face curled his lip into a sneer, and he snorted.

  “Another rubbernecker,” Upton snapped. “Go on, beautiful, take a good long look. Then fuck off.”

  “Upton,” Sebastian lectured. “For Christ’s sake, don’t be such a dick.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my hands coiled into fists. I had to force them to unfurl. They’d warned me the man was rude and crabby, but knowing and experiencing were two different things entirely. I breathed deeply through my nose and held the air in my lungs until the urge to hit back with a rant of my own subsided. I refused to allow him to get between me and Zak’s wheelchair. It meant far too much to me.

  Upton swiveled his chair around, giving us his back once more. As I calmed down, I silently cursed myself for not hiding my surprise, and then I cursed Sebastian for not warning me that Upton had a deep scar that ran from the edge of his eyebrow all the way down to his jawline. He must have gotten hit with shrapnel from the bomb. It didn’t matter a bit to me, nor did it detract from his scorching good looks. Clearly, though, it mattered hugely to Upton Barrick.