The Ruthless Billionaire’s Redemption

by Sandra Marton

She held herself rigid for a moment more. But Lee’s arms were warm and comforting. She felt safe, in a way she never had before. With a muffled cry, she slid from the sofa to her knees beside him. Lee whispered her name, then gathered her to him with a tenderness that took her breath away. Her arms went around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he crooned, stroking her hair. ‘Please don’t cry.’

  Tears trickled from under her lashes. ‘You have to fight back,’ she whispered, leaning back in his arms and looking into his eyes. ‘Do you understand? Otherwise—otherwise…’

  ‘Hush.’ Lee kissed her temple, then pressed his lips to the shining curls on the top of her head. He drew her against him again, and she closed her eyes. After a long while, he took a shuddering breath. ‘All right,’ he said softly, ‘we’ll make a deal.’

  Danielle sniffed damply. ‘No medical advice from me, no driving lessons from you.’ She drew back and gave him a shaky smile. ‘That was the deal we made the day we drove here, remember?’

  He smiled. ‘You did just fine with your end—but I suspect I could have used some advice from time to time.’

  She smiled back at him. ‘Is this bargain going to be different?’

  ‘Yes.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll try if you’ll help me.’ His hands cupped her face. ‘How does that sound?’

  ‘It sounds—it sounds fine,’ she murmured.

  He nodded solemnly. ‘Let’s shake on it.’

  Danielle put her hand in his. ‘All right.’

  ‘Danielle.’ His whisper hung in the sudden silence, and then he gathered her to him and kissed her.

  It was a tender kiss, one that brushed her lips with the taste of honey. His next kiss was harder, and suddenly he groaned and his mouth closed over hers in passionate demand.

  Kneeling before him, lost in the magic of his embrace, Danielle responded, returning kiss for kiss with an abandon she had never before known.

  His fingers closed on the top button of her shirt and slid it open, then moved to the next. Suddenly, his hand stilled. ‘Danielle?’ Her eyes opened slowly and focused on his face. ‘I want to make love to you,’ he said softly.

  The whispered words drove a flood of heat to her cheeks, and she leaned towards him and buried her face against his chest. Lee held her to him, and then he clasped her shoulders and drew back.

  ‘I want to make love to you. But this—this damned chair… My legs…’ He swallowed drily. ‘It would be no good, no good for either of us. And I—I think we should stop now, before we both—before I…’ He paused. ‘I’m very grateful to you, Danielle. But…’

  Grateful. He was grateful. Was that why he’d been kissing her with such passion? Because he was grateful?

  Somehow, she managed to smile as she rose slowly to her feet. ‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said, walking quickly towards the fireplace. ‘Anyway, it’s late,’ she said as she picked up a poker and bent to the hearth. ‘I think we should call it a night, don’t you?’ He didn’t answer, which seemed answer enough, and she put the poker aside and straightened up. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him again. ‘Can I get you anything before I go up? Hot chocolate? Tea?’

  Lee’s eyes were fixed on her face. ‘Danielle. What is it?’

  Her lips trembled with the effort to keep the smile on her face. ‘Nothing,’ she said, and she stretched her mouth into a smile so wide she was afraid it was a grimace. ‘Nothing, honestly. I’m just—I’m tired. It—it’s been a long day.’

  He reached out as she walked past him. His hand curled around hers, his fingers warm and filled with strength.

  ‘Danielle.’ His voice was low. ‘Thank you for everything.’

  ‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t thank me. It’s not—’

  ‘All those things you said tonight—I know it wasn’t easy. I just want you to know I’m—I’m grateful.’

  Grateful. There was that ugly, terrible word again. He was grateful.

  ‘Danielle?’ She looked down at him, and he smiled. Gently, he pulled her down to him, and his lips brushed softly against hers. ‘Goodnight,’ he whispered.

  She watched as he wheeled his chair from the room. For the first time in weeks, his shoulders were set squarely and his head was high. She had done that for him, she thought, and the realisation sent a thrill of happiness through her. A smile curved across her lips, but it faded quickly away.

  She had helped him find himself, and he was grateful to her for what she’d done. But it wasn’t Lee’s gratitude she wanted.

  What she wanted was his love.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WHEN had she fallen in love with Lee? As dawn tinged the whitewashed stone walls of Danielle’s bedroom with pink, she tried to make sense of her tumbling emotions. She hadn’t fallen in love with him tonight, she knew that. She had loved him for a long time. For weeks. She had loved him even before the night of the accident.

  Sighing, she rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. That was why she’d locked herself away here, with him. What kind of foolishness had kept her blind to the truth for so long?

  No. Not foolishness. It was self-protection. She hadn’t dared let herself know what she felt for Lee because it was hopeless to love him, and she had known that instinctively. All the things that made Lee Bradford the man he was were things so far outside her realm of experience that the idea of their being together was almost laughable.

  She was, just as he’d said from the beginning, a farm girl, if not in fact, then certainly in spirit. And he—he was a man who needed the excitement and glitter of a world she’d never even imagined, a world populated by women as beautiful and sophisticated as Valerie.

  Danielle sat up and pushed aside the bedcovers. It would have been nice to have gone on pretending just a little while longer, she thought, wrapping her arms around her knees. But Lee had taken her in his arms in an act that was as much gratitude as desire, and that had forced her to face the truth.

  She closed her eyes and nestled her cheek against her upthrust knees. She had told Eddie the truth, too, and in almost the same way.

  ‘I like you very much,’ she’d said gently. ‘And I’m grateful for your friendship, Eddie. But I don’t love you the way you love me. I doubt if I ever will.’

  The memory sent a knife-blade of pain into her heart. Poor Eddie. For the very first time, she understood how he must have felt. He’d loved her and known there had been no future to it, just as she knew there was no future in her love for Lee.

  The only difference was that she hadn’t told Lee she loved him. Thank God for small favours, she thought with a bitter smile. At least she hadn’t bared her soul to him completely.

  A soft twitter of birdsong rose on the early-morning air. Danielle swung her legs to the floor, walked to the window, and pushed the shutters wide open. The sun was halfway up the sky, fiery and beautiful in its ascent. The air was sweet with lavender, and as warm as blood even though it was still early in the morning.

  The world lay soft and new all around her. It was a beautiful morning, the kind on which anything seemed possible. Well, she thought with a wry smile, almost anything. If Lee kept the promise he’d made last night, if the night hadn’t plunged him back to the dark despair of the past weeks, she could help him begin to get well.

  It wouldn’t be the same as having his love. But it would, at least, fill her aching heart with some warmth.

  The house lay silent around her as she tiptoed down the stairs. The door to Lee’s room was partly open, but she knew he’d be asleep. He never rose until the sun was high; she thought, sometimes, it was just a way he used to shorten the day.

  Her nose wrinkled as she headed for the kitchen. The air was scented with coffee. Had she forgotten to unplug the electric coffee maker last night? It didn’t seem likely, but you never knew.

  ‘Good morning.’

  Danielle gasped and clapped her hand to her heart. Lee was seated on the far
side of the kitchen, smiling at her over the rim of a coffee cup.

  ‘My God,’ she said with a little laugh, ‘you scared the life out of me.’

  ‘Sorry. I guess I should have called out when I heard your footsteps.’ He swivelled his chair towards the open French doors that led to the terrace. ‘But I was watching the birds in the garden. What are they? Sparrows?’

  She looked past him at a flock of tiny brown birds busily pecking away at the soil.

  ‘I think so. But I don’t know what you call them in French.’

  Lee glanced back at her. ‘Did you do all that?’

  ‘All what?’ He gestured at the neat rows of herbs and flowers, and she smiled. ‘The weeding? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘It looks as if you worked a miracle out there.’

  Danielle laughed. ‘No miracles. Just lots of elbow grease.’

  He leaned forward in his chair. ‘Are those roses I see along the back wall?’

  ‘Yes. Wild ones, I think. They’d have to be, to have survived in that jungle.’

  Lee smiled. ‘Anything would survive, with you nurturing it.’

  Their eyes met. After a moment, she looked away. ‘Is that—is that coffee I smell?’

  He grinned and wheeled towards the counter. ‘Yup. Want some?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  She watched as he poured a cup for her and then refilled his own. Making coffee was such a simple thing, she thought. It was ridiculous to feel this pleased about it. But for Lee, it was a milestone. In the weeks they’d been here, he hadn’t so much as boiled water. It was as if he’d held himself aloof from even the smallest part of his recovery.

  She smiled as she took the cup of coffee from him. ‘Mmm,’ she said, taking a deep breath, ‘that really does smell wonderful.’

  Almost as wonderful as he looked. He was wearing an old grey sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. A faded line of dancing sparkplugs high-kicked across his chest. His dark hair curled damply at the nape of his neck. He’d showered, she thought, using the handheld spray in his bathroom. It had to be a clumsy procedure, but Lee had refused her help from the start—which was just as well, she thought now. She could never run her hands over his water-slicked skin…

  ‘Don’t you like it?’ Lee asked. Danielle stared at him blankly. ‘The coffee,’ he said. ‘You had such a funny look on your face.’

  She shook her head. ‘I—I was thinking of something else.’ She blew on the hot liquid, then took a sip. ‘The coffee’s perfect.’

  Lee grinned. ‘Coffee’s one of the few things I can do in a kitchen. It’s probably because all you need to succeed is water, a measuring scoop, and some grounds.’

  She smiled back. ‘You’re not one of those men who loves making exotic casseroles, then?’

  ‘I’m not one of those men who’s ever had a kitchen,’ he said with a little smile. ‘Life on the racing circuit’s lived in hotel rooms.’

  Another milestone, Danielle thought, trying not to show her surprise. Lee hadn’t mentioned racing since the day Bonet had explained the severity of his injuries.

  ‘And away from the circuit?’

  He shrugged as he spooned sugar into his coffee. ‘I’ve an apartment in New York and a little place in Switzerland.’ He laughed softly. ‘And maid service in both.’

  Danielle pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. ‘New York and Switzerland, hmm? Sounds nice.’

  Lee nodded. ‘Yeah. It is. The New York apartment overlooks Central Park. And the Swiss cabin is just outside Davos; I go there to ski whenever I…’

  His smile faded and Danielle’s heart went out to him. But something warned her against offering comfort. He would have to find his own way, she thought, and there was a new set to his jaw that assured her he would. He waited a few seconds, and then he cleared his throat.

  ‘So,’ he said briskly, ‘did you sleep well?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said, lying glibly. ‘And you?’

  He hesitated, and then he shook his head. ‘No. Not very.’

  ‘Were you ill? You should have called me, Lee. I’d have—’

  ‘I wasn’t sick, Danielle.’

  ‘Oh.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘I thought—’

  ‘I spent the night thinking about what an impossible son of a bitch I’ve been.’

  ‘Lee…’

  ‘I was a bastard,’ he said. ‘Right from day one.’

  Her smile warmed a little. ‘Well, if you insist.’

  Lee grinned, and then his expression sobered. ‘You must have known you were signing on for trouble—and yet you did it anyway.’

  ‘I told you, we were helping each other. I needed a job, and—’

  ‘Why did you stay? I mean, no one would have taken all the garbage I’ve handed out the past weeks.’

  Because I love you, she thought.

  The words came so swiftly that she was afraid she’d said them aloud. But Lee was still watching her with that same careful, polite smile. Danielle pushed back her chair and got to her feet.

  ‘I admit, I came close to saying au revoir a couple of times,’ she said with a quick smile. ‘But I figured, a deal’s a deal.’

  ‘What about Val?’

  She looked at him. ‘Val?’

  ‘Have you heard from her at all?’ His voice was flat.

  There’d been one postcard. ‘Busy, busy, busy,’ Val had scrawled, ‘Love to Lee.’ But she couldn’t tell him that. That he’d asked about Val at all was a sure sign he was on the mend.

  Danielle turned away and busied herself at the sink. ‘Yes,’ she said brightly. ‘She wrote several times. I—I guess I should have saved the letters. She says she’s working hard. And—and she sent you all her love.’

  Silence fell between them, and then Lee cleared his throat. ‘Look, about what happened last night…’

  Danielle closed her eyes. ‘We just—we got carried away, that’s all. I mean, we were both upset, and—and…’ She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘What you said last night, about—about gratitude—made sense. So—so let’s not talk about it any more, all right?’

  Bird calls filled the room, and then Lee let out his breath. ‘All right.’

  The room grew silent again. Finally, Danielle turned to him and smiled.

  ‘What would you like to do today? I thought we’d have lunch on the terrace. And for dinner tonight, I’ll—’

  Lee laughed, and the sound of it scattered the awkwardness that had drifted into the room a moment ago.

  ‘What are you trying to do to me, lady?’ he demanded. ‘I eat and I sleep, and then I eat some more. If I’m not careful, I’m going to turn into a mountain.’

  Danielle smiled. ‘A beached whale, hmm?’

  He chuckled softly. ‘You got it. I don’t get any exercise—except forking food into my face. By the time Bonet springs me from this chair, I’m going to weigh five hundred pounds.’

  ‘I don’t think Weight Watchers has made it to Provence yet. They’d probably shoot me if I drove into Grasse and tried to buy low-calorie bread.’

  ‘Would you rather watch me turn into old Moby Dick?’

  She grinned at him. ‘OK, you’ve convinced me. Tell you what. I’ll go into town and buy some tins of tuna and whatever else I can find that…’ Her eyebrows rose when she saw the look on Lee’s face. ‘No good?’

  ‘This whale’s lived on tuna long enough to have decided it’s something to be eaten only on pain of death,’ he said with a dramatic shudder.

  Danielle leaned back against the counter. ‘Somehow,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest, ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘They asked me to write a cookbook,’ he said, straight-faced. ‘Bradford’s Ten Thousand and One Ways to Serve Tuna, from à la king to zabaglione.’

  ‘Tuna zabaglione? God, I hope not.’

  He smiled. ‘I’ve probably opened more tins of tuna than any man should in an entire lifetime.’

  ‘OK, I’ll ask the obvious question. Why?
’

  He took a sip of coffee and shrugged as he swallowed it down. ‘Tinned tuna is cheap, nutritious, easy to lug around—it’s the perfect food for a guy on the road with no bucks in his pockets.’ He looked at her as he put his cup down on the table. ‘Which just happens to be a rather accurate description of me, a couple of eons ago. Every dime I could scrape together was in my first real car.’

  ‘Your first real car?’

  Lee grinned reflectively. ‘Yes. A ’59 Chevy, candy-apple red, with a three hundred and fìfty-cc mill and Holley carbs. You should have seen…’ Her blank looked stopped him. ‘It was a racer. And I bounced from county fair to dirt track and back again, with side trips to God knows where and I-wouldn’t-go-there-on-a-bet.’

  Racing. He was talking about racing again.

  ‘And that’s how you started?’ she asked softly.

  Lee nodded. ‘It’s how most racing drivers start. And it’s costly. Not as costly as Formula One, of course.’

  ‘Is it very expensive to field a Formula One car?’

  He laughed. ‘How’s ten million dollars a year sound, Danielle?’

  Her eyes rounded in shock. ‘For one car? I don’t believe it!’

  ‘For a car and a team. You’ve got to remember, Formula Ones are the most sophisticated racing machines in the world. And it takes a dozen people you don’t see to make the car a winner. Mechanics, engineers, a team manager…’ He smiled. ‘All to make a guy like me look good.’

  You don’t need anything to make you look good, she thought.

  Colour rose to Danielle’s cheeks. What was the matter with her? Any minute now, she was going to say something thoughtless, and then what would happen to this new, wonderful friendship between them? She’d learned something from her relationship with Eddie: she knew what happened when one person loved and the other didn’t. It put a burden on the one who didn’t, it weighed like a stone.

  Danielle nodded wisely. ‘I never knew that.’

  ‘Most people don’t. The driver is the high-profile guy, the one who gets all the glory.’

  She touched her tongue to her lips. ‘Then—then you wouldn’t hate taking some other part in the team? The manager, say, or…’