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The Tycoon's Shock Heir
Bella Frances
She’s carrying the Rossini baby…Will she become the billionaire’s bride?Restoring his family’s legacy is all that’s important to Italian tycoon Matteo Rossini. Until captivating ballerina Ruby Martin tempts him to abandon his pursuit for a night of fiery pleasure! When sweet Ruby confesses she’s pregnant, Matteo demands his child. But with the heat still burning between them can Matteo ignore his desire for Ruby too?
She’s carrying the Rossini baby...
Will she become the billionaire’s bride?
Restoring his family’s legacy is all that’s important to Italian tycoon Matteo Rossini. Until captivating ballerina Ruby Martin tempts him to abandon his pursuit for a night of fiery pleasure! Yet when sweet Ruby confesses she’s pregnant, Matteo demands his child. But with heat still burning between them, can Matteo ignore his desire for Ruby, too?
Experience the drama in this pregnancy romance!
Unable to sit still without reading, BELLA FRANCES first found romantic fiction at the age of twelve, in between the deadly dull knitting patterns and recipes in the pages of her grandmother’s magazines. An obsession was born! But it wasn’t until one long, hot summer, after completing her first degree in English Literature, that she fell upon the legends that are Mills & Boon books. She has occasionally lifted her head out of them since to do a range of jobs, including barmaid, financial adviser and teacher, as well as to practise (but never perfect) the art of motherhood to two almost grown-up cherubs. Bella lives a very energetic life in the UK. but tries desperately to travel for pleasure at least once a month—strictly in the interests of research!
Also by Bella Frances (#u20e16661-5c0a-5ffc-8bc1-fb5d01570d65)
The Playboy of Argentina
The Scandal Behind the Wedding
The Consequence She Cannot Deny
Claimed by a Billionaire miniseries
The Argentinian’s Virgin Conquest
The Italian’s Vengeful Seduction
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
The Tycoon’s Shock Heir
Bella Frances
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08731-5
THE TYCOON’S SHOCK HEIR
© 2018 Bella Frances
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my son, Harry.
With all my love.
Contents
Cover (#ucc06caee-f3a8-53ac-b375-add08a523ac9)
Back Cover Text (#u7e452209-6be9-5ebf-90cb-5316f14155a9)
About the Author (#u88feb099-b181-50f7-962e-558138a0e768)
Booklist (#ub6f62b41-0635-58c8-9849-fb55fb72b098)
Title Page (#u1e256dd7-56e2-51ea-bfa1-41b218cce630)
Copyright (#u40fcb277-348d-5458-b19f-b0ec3f18d37f)
Dedication (#u3875bfee-dd40-5369-a945-69172058b76c)
CHAPTER ONE (#u3905d2ba-26cd-5e28-91cf-88432fb57886)
CHAPTER TWO (#u9087a485-a02b-5b15-9da9-d949c71efb84)
CHAPTER THREE (#u0645ea70-cb55-50df-94e2-207708f70096)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub5c40829-0640-5c5d-9364-f6a90e90549f)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u20e16661-5c0a-5ffc-8bc1-fb5d01570d65)
FRIDAY AFTERNOON. BEST TIME in the world. Working week wrapped up and the party just about to start. And, with the news he’d just heard, Matteo Rossini knew it was going to be some party.
He stepped out of the car, loosened his tie and took the steps into his jet for the last task of the day—the short flight from Rome to London and a call to the Executive Director, Signora Rossini herself. Mamma to him.
He walked through the cabin and sat at his desk, ready to sink his Friday beer. It wasn’t there.
He slung his bag on the empty chair and looked around. Neither was his assistant David. Strange. They had this routine down—the beer, the call, some water, some press-ups, shower and change, the car ready in London, sometimes a woman, sometimes not. Tonight was definitely a ‘sometimes not’ night. Tonight was boxing, a little gambling and all-male bonding—as soon as he delivered the news.
He sat down and keyed in the number. Drummed his fingers. Looked around again for David. Where was he?
At the sound of a beer being opened he turned, just as the call connected. He noticed the legs first, then the red dress. Definitely not David. He frowned and swivelled away from the sight as the bottle was placed beside him. Someone had some explaining to do.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
‘Matteo! Good. I was just going to call you.’
‘Well, here I am. With some news.’
‘OK? You first, then.’
His heart raced. This was it.
‘Arturo is finally selling. And we’ve got first refusal.’ He touched the beer bottle, waited to hear his mother’s response.
‘Seriously? After all this time? That’s incredible news.’
Matteo allowed his fingers to close round the neck of the bottle. Indeed it was.
‘How did you find out?’
‘It wasn’t hard. I heard a rumour and did a little digging. Word is he’s had enough. He wants out and we’re the only ones in the running...’
He let the sentence dangle in the air. Even over the thousand miles that separated them he could imagine the mixture of heartache and hunger on his mother’s face.
‘You’re absolutely sure about that?’
He paused. There was no point in pretending.
‘We’re the only ones properly in the running. I heard Claudio’s going to throw his hat in the ring. But he’s poison. His reputation has travelled to Switzerland, I guarantee it. He hasn’t got a chance.’
‘Matty, I don’t want you to get involved.’
Her tone sank further than the ground beneath the plane.
‘Mamma. You know this is the one that matters. Claudio walked away with half our clients and now I’m going to get them back. If we merge with Arturo we’ll be unstoppable. I can do this. I promise you.’
‘I don’t want you to promise anything, Matty. I don’t want you losing your mind the way your father did. It’s not worth it. Nothing’s worth it.’
He sighed and released his hand from the bottle. He had known she’d feel like this and he couldn’t blame her, but they’d never get another chance.
‘I can’t let it pass—you know that,’ he said quietly. ‘Come on, Mamma. For Dad. We can’t let Claudio get one over on us again.’
He waited for her to speak, but the plane climbed through silence. He could imagine the worry knitting her fine brows, twin tracks of loss and anguish. The look that had haunted her for years.
But she was Coral Rossini. And he was her son...
‘You’re right. We can’t let that happen,’ she said finally. ‘We can’t sit back and let him walk all over us again.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, letting out a breath.
‘But you have to promise me that if he tries to do anything you’ll walk away. Matteo. Promise me. I can’t lose a husband and a son.’
The image of his father lying across the dashboard of his car flashed through his mind and he clenched his jaw so hard he could almost taste metal. Metal that he would use to grind Claudio’s bones to dust. One day.
‘You have nothing to fear, Mamma.’
‘I have everything to fear. I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you.’
The break in her voice killed him. She had more strength and resilience than anyone else alive. The fact that they could even say the name ‘Claudio’ in a conversation now was testament to how far they’d come. That man had been closer than family, his father’s best friend, his trusted lawyer then partner, and he’d sold them out—right under their noses. No one had been able to believe he’d set it all up and got away with it. And the rest. The unspeakable dark shadow he’d cast over their lives.
All they could do was put one foot in front of the other and try to salvage Banca Casa di Rossini—the two-hundred-year-old private bank of the Italian super-rich.
‘Nothing’s going to happen other than us taking the bank back to where it should be. Even if we don’t get all of Arturo’s clients we’ll outrank Claudio. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’
The plane hit a patch of turbulence and Matty looked out at the thick grey cloud wrapping itself over the Italian countryside, Not even a thunderstorm was going to dim his spirits. Not with this rainbow on the horizon. Handing their crock of gold back to his mother had been his dream for years.
‘What about the name? We might need to change the bank’s name. Have you thought of that?’
‘I’m ahead of you. If it comes to it, I’ll do it. BAR. Banca Arturo Rossini. How does that sound?’
‘Oh, Matty...’
He heard the wistful note in her voice. He felt it too. The bank went back generations, was respected the world over. But it was live or die. There was no third way.
