Invitation from the Venetian Billionaire

by Lucy King

  ‘Oh, Gold Style.’ Mae nodded dismissively. ‘Of course, I’d forgotten you were connected to them.’

  Not just connected, she was their daughter. Their only child. And honestly? Their greatest disappointment.

  ‘Wear that navy empire line dress,’ her mother had shrilly instructed in amongst her barrage of information this morning. ‘It’s more flattering.’

  Because Rosanna’s body needed flattering—as always her pale freckled skin and uneven posture needed to be concealed. Appearances mattered to maintain and build the success of the business and imperfections were not allowed—not speckled skin, or a spine so curved by scoliosis that not even surgery could properly straighten it, at least not to the point of pleasing her perfectionist parents. But while Rosanna had obeyed the instruction to attend the party, she hadn’t been able to wear that particular dress. She’d had only a few things at her parents’ apartment and had opted for a silk black blouse and skirt. Her mother had always preferred Rosanna didn’t wear skirts because the hemlines reflected the unevenness of her waist, but this one was long and hopefully that slight tilt on one side wasn’t noticeable. But even though her outfit fulfilled the covering-up element, it wasn’t really good enough for Kingston Towers society.

  She’d let her parents down again and that hurt. That her mother had even asked had made her want to succeed just this once for them. Of course she’d yes, even though parties this fancy, in places this elite, weren’t her forte. She’d always felt shy and awkward. But this morning her mother had been more upset than Rosanna had ever seen her. She knew their company was everything, but she’d wondered if the accident had shaken her mother more than she was admitting. She’d repeatedly insisted that Rosanna attend—someone from the Gold family needed to be ‘seen’ by the CEO himself.

  But two hours in and Rosanna had yet to meet Leo Castle. It was her own fault, given she didn’t even know what he looked like. She didn’t bother much with Sydney society nor with social media either. However, she had briefly seen Leo’s half-brother, Ash Castle—the ‘legitimate’ heir who’d rebelled and refused to have anything to do with his late father’s company. That Ash had even been here tonight was a surprise because he’d avoided anything related to Hugh Castle for years. He must have a better relationship with his half-brother than he’d ever had with his father. Even so, Rosanna hadn’t had the confidence to ask Ash to introduce her to Leo because unfortunately Ash Castle was the source of Rosanna’s most mortifying teen moment. While it had been public humiliation of the online kind—and the reason she preferred to live a social-media-free life—the worst had been her parents’ reaction. They’d placed the blame squarely on Rosanna’s uneven shoulders and the impact of their displeasure still weighed on her today. That was why she was here now—still trying to please them for once.

  But while Ash had been unusually quiet and courteous, it had been yet another awkward high-school reunion—especially when he’d briefly brought up that cringe thing in their past. She’d only got through it because she’d realised just what hell he’d have been under at the time. But maybe the fact that she’d spoken to him for the first time in a decade would suffice for her parents’ expectations for the evening? He was a Castle, after all.

  ‘I heard something about you being a university professor now,’ Mae said, drawing her attention back to the present. ‘You always were a brain box.’

  Rosanna inwardly groaned again at her parents’ inflated description of her job. When reality wasn’t good enough, they embellished—always over the top. In fact she was a laboratory technician at the school of Biological Sciences at East River University, a couple of hours north of Sydney. As for being a brain box? That was only because she’d spent her life working insanely hard to maintain the grades that were the one thing her parents seemed to be proud of her for. Not that it had ever garnered her any social currency—Mae was one of those people who’d only ever spoken to Rosanna when she’d wanted to borrow her study notes.

  ‘Not a professor.’ She smiled resolutely. ‘I take some lectures.’

  Even that was a stretch. She tutored first-year science students because, according to her boss, she was ‘good at instilling scrupulous understanding of the scientific method’. But the work had become repetitive and frustrating. Yet again she’d not lived up to expectations because she should, at the very least, be a full-time lecturer by now if only she’d lived up to her ‘potential’.

  And as she determinedly chatted with Mae, her energy wilted.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just got to go and talk to...’ Rosanna glanced around the room, hoping to spot someone—anyone ‘...Harry.’

  Her excuse to end the current conversation worked again. It had been working well all evening.

  Breathing out, Rosanna walked away from the other guests, wondering whether it was too soon to sneak away or if she ought to ‘fly the family flag’ a little longer.

  It had been a failed mission from the beginning. She knew her glamorous, party-professional parents had been disappointed in her reserved nature as a child, in her increasingly flawed appearance. They’d been disappointed by her decision not to stay in Sydney and follow them into the family business after ‘all they’d done’, and they’d definitely been disappointed by her inability to secure a society son-in-law of their dreams to lift their profile all the more...

  But the fact was, Rosanna had never satisfied anyone’s dreams. Not even her own.

  She laughed beneath her breath at her self-piteous moment. She’d been so busy trying to meet the impossible dreams of her parents she’d not stopped to actually dream any of her own. And now? Now she had no clue what it was she wanted.

  But Kingston Towers? The whole complex was dreamy. The party was on the penultimate level of the East Tower with stunning views across the city and to the second, slightly taller tower. She’d toured the two apartments open for viewing already, but from here she could glimpse the West Tower penthouse. Was that a hint of a terraced garden? Her curiosity was piqued and temptation stirred. Rosanna couldn’t resist a garden. And it was a showing, after all. Given she was unlikely to ever get the opportunity again, she walked to the central elevators—taking a moment from the horrible party for herself. One elevator opened the second she summoned it and inside she pressed the very top button.

  Moments later she arrived at the penthouse. She stepped out, savouring the silence and the sensation of escape. The tranquillity was a welcome contrast to the heavy bass downstairs and the hum of people loudly talking to counter it. The other guests couldn’t yet have realised they could inspect this apartment as well. Rosanna was glad to explore it alone. No more awkward reunions for just a minute.

  The glass doors leading out to the terrace were thrown wide open in invitation, so what else was to be done? Outside she breathed deeply, appreciating the scent of summer and the warm breeze. As she’d suspected, the terrace garden was a gorgeous space brimming with verdant vitality. There were cleverly placed trellises covered with foliage and structural plants that provided privacy and shelter around a comfortable seating area. In an instant she felt better. With all the greenery she could almost forget she was in the middle of a large city. Though if she glanced beyond the leaf-woven trellis, the view of the gleaming harbour was incredible. But it was the garden that truly entranced her.

  As she explored the deceptively large space the sky began to turn. Small lights hidden amongst the foliage automatically beamed on. It softened the atmosphere and made it even more intimate. To her wonderment, tucked away on the other side of the trellis was a small pool. She knew there was a lane pool on the recreation level for the residents but this was smaller, a place to plunge rather than exhaust oneself with endless laps. The surrounding plants were flowering and had luscious deep green leaves and with the lights it made the place feel like a magical den. A sensation of peace and pleasure washed over her as one plant in particular caught her eye wi
th its contrasting green foliage.

  She’d found not just a sanctuary, but a paradise.

  * * *

  Leo Castle sprawled in the large chair in the study, silently watching the uninvited woman wander around his private terrace. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Then again, nor was he. He was supposed to be downstairs talking with the new and prospective owners of the luxury apartments Castle Holdings had just completed. Socialising was his most loathed business task—mainly because it interrupted the actual business of doing business. His phone had been humming in his pocket when he was talking to guests downstairs, vibrating with notification after notification. In the end he couldn’t resist stealing up here to check in because his favourite aspect was the deal—sale and purchase, the constant accumulation of security. He liked to work fast, accurately, viciously, relentlessly. So missing messages when he had a new deal on a knife-edge was not his idea of fun. But since he’d come up here he’d more than caught up. The outstanding deal had just come through. In theory he should now go down and celebrate the lot. In theory he should be the happiest he’d ever been. Because in theory, he finally had everything he’d ever wanted.

  For almost thirty years—his entire life—he’d fought to get to this position. Fighting for recognition, for justice...for everything that had been denied him for so long. His name and honour, respect and reputation, fortune...all were finally fully within his control. And nothing mattered to him more than having complete control over his own damned destiny.

  Kingston Towers—his first major project as the new CEO of Castle Holdings—was an undeniable success. The man who’d built the company from the ground up, Hugh Castle, had died a year ago. Leo had taken over from the man who’d not only refused to acknowledge Leo’s existence, but done everything possible to deny him his rights. But Leo had no intention of letting that happen for ever. He’d talked to his half-brother, Ash, the ‘rightful’ heir. Ash hadn’t wanted anything to do with their father’s business—he’d have been happy to see it burn. But Leo had been determined to make the company what it should have been and so he and Ash had agreed he’d take the reins. In this last year he’d carved out the cronyism, the favours, the hidden deceitful deals—battling the resentment of the old guard wanting to hold on to their unearned privileges and the pressure to prove himself worthy when he’d been unrecognised for so long. But he’d accomplished what he’d wanted—all while maintaining the success of his own company that he’d built simply to prove he could. He’d worked every minute he’d been awake for years to get here. Hours of stress and toil and sacrifice. And he’d done it. He’d even claimed this jewel at the top of the tower for himself. Yet now he was here he didn’t feel any real satisfaction. He felt...nothing.

  Well, not nothing.

  Because there was—as always—that acidic burning regret in the pit of his stomach that his mother wasn’t alive to see any of it. She was never to know her honour had been restored, never to feel any peace or security or enjoyment of the rewards...which meant that he couldn’t either. Because it was his fault she couldn’t. Leo rolled his shoulders, unable to dwell on that most painful of wounds.

  Maybe he was tired, but he didn’t want to return to his duty downstairs yet. And he didn’t have to, right? Because Ash had made an appearance. Ash, who’d tracked Leo down when they were both angry teens. Rebellious Ash, who’d enabled Leo to prove their shared parentage. Ash, who’d stepped aside and been an ally ever since.

  Leo would always owe him. But their bond was built on more than mutual loathing of their father now. There was respect and loyalty. Ash had signalled his support of Leo’s leadership of the company and Leo had done all he could to support Ash’s fiercely independent business in return. It was the one relationship in Leo’s life now that actually worked and Ash was the only family Leo would ever have. Leo hadn’t failed to notice how haunted he’d looked earlier today. He suspected there might be a woman involved but he’d not asked. He’d have been unable to offer any advice anyway; it was for Ash to work out alone. But for now Ash was downstairs doing what he did best—avoiding whatever it was causing him grief by outrageously charming everyone he encountered.

  Which meant Leo didn’t have to. Leo didn’t have to even be ‘Leo Castle’, right now. He could just be a man watching a mysterious, pretty woman out on the terrace.

  The elevator had chimed its low warning a few moments ago. He’d neglected to lock it again when he’d come up, but now he swiped through a couple of screens on his phone, adjusting settings so the elevator couldn’t come back to this floor unless summoned by him. No more intruders today. No one but the female currently prowling through his plants.

  He didn’t think she was a guest. Clad in a black blouse and black skirt and black heels that were more sensible than skyscraper, she was staff, he guessed. A waitress escaping all those trays of hors d’oeuvres for a few minutes. He didn’t blame her for wanting some peace, he’d wanted it himself.

  He watched her explore the terrace, increasingly fascinated by her unguarded demeanour. She was a slim shadow and even though her hair was tied back he could see it was more flaming orange tones than rich auburn—like bonfire night. Despite the distance and even as the sky turned dusky, he could see her skin was pale. She breathed deeply, taking in the view before turning back to the small garden again. Her hand lightly touched the blooms with a reverence and care that he appreciated. He felt a fleeting desire for her to look up and inspect him with the same deliberate concentration, as if there were nothing and no one else in the world she had any interest in.

  Ridiculous.

  He half laughed beneath his breath at his fanciful thinking. He must be tired. He didn’t get distracted. Ever. But with that deal now completed, the party a success, maybe he could have a moment to enjoy the scenery. To stop and smell the roses like his interloper out there...

  She cupped one of the flowers with a gentle touch and intense focus. But she didn’t pick the bloom. He was glad; he liked those flowers even if they only survived because of the people he paid to take care of them. More importantly, they were his. Not hers. But she suddenly turned to another plant. Her fingers slid across the large, flat leaf and down the stem. A second later she snapped it.

  Leo stiffened in incredulity and a second later amusement washed over him.

  Little thief.

  She’d picked, not a flower, but a stem from an ugly-as-sin plant. Not quite Beauty stealing roses then, and nor was he about to be a Beast and keep her here for his entertainment. But given he’d caught her in the act, he was going to call her on it.

  * * *

  ‘And you are...?’

  Rosanna jumped and turned at the low voice. Her reply caught in her throat as she saw him. First impression? Intimidating size. Second? Eyes.

  They were so blue they were almost indigo and it took only one look at them for her brain to slither into irrelevance and leave her simply staring. Tall, muscular, magnificent. He moved towards her slowly, almost carefully, which allowed other details to slowly seep in. His dark suit accentuated his height and the breadth of his shoulders. The man had muscles and he moved with lethal grace, which meant he must use those muscles well and often. His close-cropped hair and chiselled jaw added to his aura of discipline. Adding this to his very serious countenance, she guessed he was on the security team. As he moved nearer she saw those blue eyes sharpen, revealing intelligence, alertness and a faint hint of condemnation.

  Rosanna was poleaxed. And why on earth was she suddenly thinking a man magnificent?

  ‘You know you’re not supposed to be here,’ he added, overlooking the fact she’d not answered his first question.

  ‘Are you?’ she deflected while attempting to catch both her breath and brain and hoping her flash-flood auto-blush would recede quickly.

  ‘I am.’ All authority.

  ‘Security detail?’ Catching her breath was impossible. Ap
parently all the oxygen had been sucked from the world and the plants surrounding her were no help whatsoever.

  His shockingly vibrant eyes narrowed. ‘You’re...on service here?’

  Service? She frowned before it dawned. The security guy thought she was a waitress—meaning he had no idea who she was. Rightly so—she really had no influence here, no matter how hard her parents wished it.

  ‘Escaping duty for a little while,’ she offered warily. It wasn’t a complete lie. ‘Besides, won’t other—?’ She broke off, realising she’d almost given herself away. ‘Won’t some of the guests be arriving up here shortly?’

  His head moved almost imperceptibly. ‘No one is supposed to be up here.’

  No one? Too late she realised that maybe more people weren’t up here because it was supposed to be off-limits.

  ‘Why not?’ she asked awkwardly. ‘It’s the best bit of the whole building.’

  There was a hesitation. ‘Some of the interior isn’t finished so it’s not open for a tour tonight.’

  ‘Yet I got up here without any problems.’

  ‘That was a mistake.’

  His gaze was so unrelenting she couldn’t resist a slight dig.

  ‘Lax security?’ she muttered innocently.

  ‘Apparently so,’ he acknowledged seriously. ‘But I’ve locked the elevators now so no one can come up without the code.’

  Her breath caught again—he’d locked the lift? ‘What about getting back down?’

  He didn’t blink but his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Rosanna stared back at him, her own intrigue growing. Had that been a glimmer of amusement?

  ‘Are you concerned that you’re now stuck up here?’ he enquired softly. The edge of tease was so faint. But it was there.