Defying the Billionaire's Command

By: Michelle Conder


His prejudice...


Hardened cynic Dare James is furious. Some woman has gotten her claws into his grandfather. He returns in a blaze of fury to the family estate to lay down the law...only to find himself attracted to the woman he had every intention of evicting.

Her pride!


Carly Evans is horrified—she’s his grandfather’s doctor, not a gold digger! She can’t wait to wipe the smug smile from Dare’s frustratingly handsome face. Only before she knows it, Carly is caught in an inescapable web of attraction...and suddenly defying the billionaire’s command is the last thing she wants to do!





Dare moved to the left as he sensed Carly about to walk past him, but unfortunately she moved in the same direction, and before he knew it her body was plastered up against his.


Right where he’d wanted her ever since he’d watched her sexy swaying in front of him in a little green skirt that had turned her eyes the same hue.

Neither one of them moved for a heartbeat. Two. And then they both took a step back. Her hand went to her hair as if to straighten it, and a loose strand caught on the gloss of her lipstick. Dare nearly reached out to fix it himself but shoved his hands into his pockets at the last minute.

Another blush rose up over her creamy cheekbones and her hand shook when she brought it back down to her side. “This has to stop,” she muttered, frustration etched across her brow. “I can’t explain...”

She stopped abruptly and Dare picked up the thread. “This thing between us?”

She shook her head in denial. “There is no thing.”

Dare’s smile was slow in coming. “Oh, there’s definitely a thing.”





CHAPTER ONE


IT WAS OFTEN said that Dare James was a man who had everything, and most days he’d be hard-pressed to disagree. Blessed with bad-boy good looks, and the stamina and physique any star athlete would envy, he enjoyed expensive cars, even more expensive women, and homes that spanned the globe.

A self-made billionaire by the age of thirty, he had started with nothing and now, thanks to sheer hard work and old-fashioned grit and determination, he pretty much had anything a man could want.

What he didn’t have was the ability to handle fools lightly, especially pompous, fat-cat fools who understood that the stock market went up and down as long as their own wealth wasn’t affected.

Dare propped his feet on his desk and leaned back in his chair. ‘I don’t care if he thinks we should dump the stock,’ he told his CFO over the phone. ‘I’m telling you to hold it. If he wants to question my judgment again he can take his business elsewhere.’

Clicking off the call, he thumbed through to the next issue he had to deal with.

‘Trouble?’

Dare glanced towards his office door to find his mother framed in it. She’d flown from North Carolina to London the previous night, stopping overnight at his before she headed to Southampton to visit an old friend.

Dare smiled and dropped his feet from his desk. ‘What are you doing up this early, Ma? You should still be asleep.’

His mother strolled into his office and perched on one of his sofas in the sitting area. ‘I needed to talk to you before I head off today.’

Dare glanced at his watch. Business always came first in Dare’s world, except when it came to his mother. ‘Of course, what’s up?’

If she wanted to borrow Mark, his driver, to take her to Southampton he’d already arranged it.

‘I received an email from my father a month ago.’

Dare frowned, not sure he’d heard her right. ‘Your father?’

‘I know.’ Her brow quirked. ‘It was a surprise to me too.’

Dare wasn’t sure what shocked him more, the fact that she’d received an email, or the fact that she’d taken so long to tell him about it. ‘What does he want?’

‘To see me.’

Her hands twisted together unconsciously in her lap and Dare’s gut tightened. When a man who had kicked his daughter out of her home for marrying someone he didn’t approve of contacted her thirty-three years later you could bet something was up. And Dare doubted it would be good.

‘Bully for him,’ he said without preamble.

‘He invited me up to the house for lunch.’

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