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Glittering Fortunes
Victoria Fox
‘Jackie Collins for the modern gal’ – Grazia’A fabulously fun and tasty slice of chick-lit pie’ Heat‘Made in Chelsea combined with Jackie Collins and we absolutely love it!’ UKMums.TV‘Deliciously tawdry and amazing… I loved every second’The London Diaries‘A red hot, super steamy read with heaps of sensuality’ Contemporary Romance Reviews‘An amazing novel…I’d definitely recommend’ chicklitreviewsandnews.comTWO BROTHERSTWO RIVALSOne desvastating family secretCharlie Lomax hasn’t seen his brother in years. Cato’s been too busy living the A-list Hollywood dream to bother with the likes of a small Cornish town. But now he’s back. Hollywood and British aristocracy are about to clash as Cato sets out to claim the Lomax legacy he believes is his birthright.Unsuspecting Olivia needs a job after spectacularly failing to make a life for herself in London. Forced back to Cornwall, she has no idea what she’s letting herself in for by becoming a gardener at the crumbling but beautiful Usherwood estate. She certainly didn’t bargain on becoming embroiled in the biggest scandal of the year, and not least because the brooding Charlie is a man she can’t seem to stay away from…
Victoria Fox
Praise for Wicked Ambition
‘It’s sexy and wicked … I loved this dirty, steamy page-turner.’
—The Sun
‘Quite simply the best “bonkbuster” you’ll read all year.’
—Daily Express
‘Oozes glamour and revenge. The ultimate beach read for 2013’ —All About Soap
‘Lashings of scandal, shocking secret pasts and steamy romance’
—New
‘A proper guilty pleasure’ —Now
‘Fans of glamorous bonkbusters will enjoy’ —Heat
Praise for Temptation Island
‘Victoria Fox’s glossy chick-lit novel gives Jackie Collins a run for her money.’ —Irish Tatler
‘Just too exciting to put down’ —Closer
‘Pour yourself a glass of Pimms because this summer’s bonkbuster is guaranteed to get you seriously hot.’
—Cosmopolitan
‘Even we were shocked at the scale of scandal in this juicy tale! It’s 619 pages of sin!’ —Now
‘If you’re a fan of Jackie Collins and Jilly Cooper you’ll love the whirlwind of intrigue, mystery, sex and scandal …
We couldn’t put it down!’ —handbag.com
Praise for Hollywood Sinners
‘This debut novel is full of sex, glamour and divas!’ 4 stars
—Star
‘For a trip to ultimate escapism, take the Jackie Collins freeway, turn left at Sexy Street, right at Scandal Boulevard. Your destination is Victoria Fox’s Hollywood.’
—dailyrecord.co.uk
Glittering Fortunes
Victoria Fox
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
For Kate Wilde
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS (#ulink_1bf55a53-93fd-5f76-af06-52262a7a0093)
Love and thanks to Sally Williamson, Jenny Hutton, Donna Condon, Ian Grutchfield, Ali Wilkinson and all at MIRA/Mills & Boon, for turning a hot date into a romance.
Also to Maddy Milburn, who works so hard for my books; to Cesca Major for what makes a hero; and to Alice Usherwood for letting me borrow her beautiful name.
Table of Contents
Cover (#u6df8c9df-3919-5e10-a6d9-a4037c378331)
Praise (#u35c5dc7d-7aaa-5637-9357-b4f67061b996)
Title Page (#udac8a86b-0c7a-5e88-81a4-f48a491ce22c)
Dedication (#u8d2dda86-86bc-5459-93c0-407b5225984e)
Acknowledgements (#ulink_8a28894d-594b-5463-9c4b-490c23637813)
Part One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_7ea24de9-6bc9-5d34-9406-15d9b100c94c)
Chapter Two (#ulink_71e7e34a-bcd2-5db8-8dc7-aab8126827c8)
Chapter Three (#ulink_461addb2-cf38-5a09-b17f-38134d9b268b)
Chapter Four (#ulink_0442fc96-0571-5dd2-bde4-0fbe2282362f)
Chapter Five (#ulink_e1766b70-a459-53f4-b2f5-e1d81aad2aa1)
Chapter Six (#ulink_db082877-44c4-5afc-abf9-9882aef85662)
Chapter Seven (#ulink_93b7d3f1-75b4-5b91-9498-95d7a4389ac8)
Chapter Eight (#ulink_e3b00e6b-a259-5a0e-9598-0e51ae65acf9)
Chapter Nine (#ulink_028faab9-bb3c-5c00-9048-d915f4f215d8)
Chapter Ten (#ulink_1bbbbf3c-d00e-570b-9fff-7ddb6cf47fb3)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PART ONE (#ulink_17e3b3d6-502b-5f75-86c8-9bf9d32baf53)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_64d9909f-815d-585a-ad59-2c51c763f018)
IT WAS A fine day to be on the sea. Summertime in England and the sky was wide and cornflower-blue, golden sunshine twinkling on the water, and on the shore the small Cornish town of Lustell Cove sat pretty as a drawing.
Olivia Lark sensed the wave at her back and began to paddle, working her arms as the rush gathered pace and she braced herself for the leap. On a surge she lifted on to the board, the motion of the swell carrying her for an electrifying instant before her footing slipped out from beneath her and she toppled into the water. For seconds she was submerged in a whoosh of salty-fresh silence before surfacing, half gasping, half laughing, into the day, and feeling, as she always did, on the receiving end of a cosmic punchline. Despite a mouthful of chalky Atlantic and the noose of seaweed wrapped around her ankle, out on the water she felt happiest of all.
She splashed into land, the board tucked under one arm and the other lifted to squeeze the briny dregs from her chestnut hair. On the beach, bronzed bodies basked in the heat on pink towels, a rainbow of parasols fluttered lazily in the breeze and chased an arc around the horseshoe inlet. Holiday makers licked strawberry ice cream and patted castles out of gritty, grainy buckets, while on the water black shapes paddled, bobbing on the sway, counting to the ultimate wave.
Swiftly she showered and dressed, tying her hair in a loose, damp ponytail, and made her way across the sand. She couldn’t put it off for ever.
The Blue Paradise surf shack was a timber cabin bordered by cut-out palms. Out front a heap of kayaks were knotted together, haphazard driftwood stumbling a path to the entrance. She almost collided with a group of girls on their way out.
‘Oops,’ she backed up to let them pass, ‘sorry!’
Slinky as panthers in their wetsuits, tossing manes and tinkling laughter, the girls were like glossy creatures from another planet. Olivia couldn’t help wondering if, in her younger years, she had enjoyed access to mascara, a hairdryer, a wardrobe—words that through her teens had taken on the exotic overtones of a far-flung spice market—she might have earned access to that kind of magazine-friendly femininity. As it was there seemed to be an awful lot of effort that went into it (seldom was the day she staggered into the morning with so much as a perfunctory glance in the mirror), time that could be better spent doing other things, like sticking your head out of a car window, or running at cows through a mud sludge, or daydreaming about the guy you fancied, or having a lie-in, or painting a picture, or making lists about all the things you really ought to spend your time doing, which wasn’t any of the above.
Even as a child, playing Teatime at Tiffany’s (horrid little conferences she had endured as a six-year-old; Tiffany Price pouring air out of the spout and asking if anyone took milk, which had troubled Olivia’s young mind deeply because how could there be milk if there were no actual tea?) had never held the same allure as whatever adventure the boys were having—building dens, firing catapults, hunting the beach for gold. She had scrambled into their fold by way of initiation: Oli who could climb a tree quick as a monkey, who picked up spiders in her bare hands, who drew her own comic books with a blunt pencil and who always had grass stains on her knees.
Taking a breath, she stepped inside.
‘Hey, Addy.’
She propped her board by the door. The shop was gleaming with drowsy afternoon glow, its shelves stacked with reef gear, trunks and bikinis, racks and wax. On the wall hung an impressive model of a Great White, tail whipping and teeth bared.
Addy Gold was in his usual position at the counter, thumbing through his phone with his top off, a string of beads at his neck and wrists. Illuminated in a shaft of sunlight, his six-pack glistening above the peeled-down skin of his wetsuit, Olivia half expected a burst of choral music to accompany the sight.
‘Hey,’ he mumbled, glancing up from important business to give her a fleeting, if somewhat confused, smile. ‘Back already?’
