Secret Affair with the Millionaire (The Rochesters)
Secret Affair with the
Millionaire
The Rochesters
Coleen Kwan
Includes bonus book
When The CEO Calls (The Rochesters 0.5)
In this contest there can only be one winner...
Holly Rochester is turning over a new leaf. To show she can pull her weight in the family business, she’s determined to win the bid for the Halifax Hotel. If only she could forget the hot and mysterious stranger and the sizzling one-night stand they shared a couple of weeks ago...
Dane Schofield is back in town to make peace with his dying father. For that he needs to secure the Halifax Hotel that his father wants so much. Too bad the other bidders include the woman he spent one blistering hot night with. Even worse, she’s part of the Rochester family, bitter rivals of the Schofields.
As the sexual tension between Holly and Dane reaches flashpoint, Holly must make a decision. Is Dane a man she can trust, or would he do anything to keep a promise, including sabotage?
THE ROCHESTERS
Undercover in the CEO’s Bed (Lex and Jacinta)
When the CEO Calls (prequel to Undercover in the CEO’s Bed)
Best Friends with the Billionaire (Kirk and Cassie)
Copyright © 2017 by Coleen Kwan
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover design © 2017 Coleen Kwan
Cover photo © sorali / Bigstock.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
WHEN THE CEO CALLS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Also by Coleen Kwan
About the Author
Chapter One
“This traffic’s a nightmare. We’re going to be late.”
“Dad, don’t worry. There’s plenty of time,” Holly Rochester said to her father.
Ralph took no notice of her as he urged his driver to take a different route through San Francisco’s Pacific Heights suburb.
Holly pulled at her skirt, attempting in vain to feel more at ease. Usually she wore pantsuits or cute dresses for work, but today she’d put on a stiff and stuffy gray suit specifically bought for the upcoming meeting. Together with her silk scarf, pearl earrings, and designer purse, she looked conservative, reserved, in control….and totally not her. But that was the whole point. This was the start of the new her. Goodbye to being the black sheep of the family, to fighting the pressure of the Rochester name. Starting today, she was embracing her heritage.
Her grandfather had built the Rochester empire. A ruthless businessman, he’d passed his fortune to his two sons, but Ralph had bowed out of the day-to-day running. Today, the hotel and property management company was run by Kirk—Holly’s brother—and Lex, her cousin. In her younger days, Holly had rebelled against the Rochester fortune, joining protests against their projects, causing her cousin once to suspect her of industrial espionage. Then, a couple of years ago, her older brother had persuaded her to join the company, but she’d never been wholehearted about her role. Until recently.
Ralph turned back to Holly. “Did you study the briefing notes on the Gilberts that I sent you?”
“Yes, Dad. I went over them last night.”
“You only read the report last night?” Her dad raised an eyebrow. “You should’ve done it days ago.”
Holly curled her fingers around her purse, determined not to react to her dad’s criticism. “Sorry, yes, I should have, but I had other things on my mind.”
Like wondering if she’d ever meet a certain man again. A man with black hair, magic hands, and the most incredible, sizzling green eyes. She pushed the image away. Why did he still monopolize her thoughts? More than two weeks had passed. It was just a one night stand, something that never should’ve happened. Why couldn’t she forget him?
“Other things?” Ralph leaned forward, his expression intense. “Holly, nothing’s as important as buying the Halifax Hotel from the Gilberts. Nothing.”
Holly eyed her father. It wasn’t like Ralph to involve himself in the hotel business. After Holly’s mother had died fifteen years ago, he’d devoted himself to the Rochester Foundation and his ever-expanding art collection. So much so that he barely paid any attention to anything else, including his children. But a month ago, he’d learned the eccentric Gilbert family was finally going to sell the Halifax Hotel that had been shut for more than a dozen years, and Ralph had suddenly declared that the Rochesters had to have it, whatever the cost.
“Why is it so important?” Holly asked.
“In its heyday the Halifax was a landmark hotel. It’s an architectural masterpiece, an art deco jewel, and I’ve heard”—Ralph’s eyes gleamed—“all its features are still intact.”
Art. Was that all the Halifax meant to her father? No surprise there. Art was his passion. Art was what he’d turned to when her mother unexpectedly died. It hadn’t left him with much time for her, a bewildered, motherless twelve-year-old. The old hurt prickled deep within, but she brushed it aside, like she always did. Ralph might not have been the most supportive father, but that was in the past, and she was glad to see him so enthused.
“Now, getting back to the Gilberts.” Ralph wagged a finger at her. “Lizzie and Humbert Gilbert aren’t your usual family. They don’t give up anything lightly, including their property. That’s why the Halifax has stood empty for so long. Plenty of people have made them offers, myself included, but they’ve turned everyone down. Putting in the highest bid isn’t going to be enough.”
“Is that why we’ve been invited to their house today?” Holly asked. “They want to vet all the bidders before making their choice?”
“That’s my guess.” Ralph nodded before casting his critical gaze over Holly. “You look good.” She opened her mouth to express surprised thanks but he continued, “But your hair. I don’t know about that blanched white color. Couldn’t you have made it natural brown or something that doesn’t stand out so much?”
Holly touched the feathery strands of her platinum bob that was her signature look. “But, Dad—”
“It’s too late now. But this is a very important meeting. You do realize that, don’t you?”
She swallowed down another retort. “Yes, Dad.”
“It’s a good thing Kirk is coming with us. Just stay in the background and don’t say anything inappropriate.” He held up a hand as she started to protest. “Holly, I know how you can mouth off sometimes. I just don’t want anything going wrong today, okay?”
Luckily, the car had slid to a halt outside Kirk’s house where they were due to pick up her brother before heading to the Gilberts. Holly grabbed at the door handle. “I just want to say hi to Cassie. Won’t be long,” she said over her shoulder even as her dad started complaining about being late.
As she jumped out of the car, she almost colli
ded with a jogger. For a split second his thick black hair and broad shoulders made her breath catch—Arlen, here in San Francisco?—but then she realized his arms were clean of tattoos, and her heart dipped. Damn, was she that caught up about a man that she was looking out for him on every street? They hadn’t talked about where they came from or what they did for a living. They were just two strangers in neighboring hotel rooms in Lake Tahoe who’d hooked up for one night. One earth-shattering night, but she’d have to stop dwelling on him.
Or, she could track him down. The Lake Tahoe hotel did belong to the Rochesters. She could call the manager and ask for the details of a guest. But doing that for her own personal use was totally against company policy, and she was trying to turn over a new leaf.
Shaking her head, she hurried up to her brother’s house.
“Hey, sis.” Kirk greeted her with a kiss before raising his eyebrows at her outfit. “What’s this you’re wearing? Are you going to a charity lunch or a political fundraiser?”
Holly aimed a punch at his shoulder. “Knock it off. This is the new, conformist me, ready to wow those Gilberts with my business babble. Even if Dad doesn’t have much faith in me.”
Kirk gave her a sympathetic smile. “You don’t have to put yourself through this, you know. This schmoozing stuff can be a drag, but I’m used to it. You can skip the Gilbert meeting if you like.”
“Thanks, but I’ve told you I’m finally embracing my Rochester name instead of fighting it. I have to start somewhere, and this Halifax Hotel sounds interesting, especially since it’s got Dad all fired up.”
“You’re sure?” Kirk still looked doubtful. At six years her senior, he’d always been the protective older brother, and, like her father, he had a hard time seeing her as an equal. “You could always stay here and keep Cassie company.”
“I’d love to have Holly’s company,” a tall, heavily pregnant woman said as she shuffled into the foyer, “but she’s going with you, Kirk.”
“Sweetheart, I thought you were resting upstairs.” Kirk hurried to his wife and cupped her elbow. “You want to put your feet up in the den?”
“No, I thought I’d do a few miles on the treadmill.” Cassie paused a couple of seconds before patting his anxious face. “Oh, honey, I was just kidding. Shouldn’t you and Holly get going before your dad has an aneurism?”
“Yeah, sure.” With obvious reluctance, Kirk shrugged on his suit jacket before giving his wife a long, lingering kiss, his hand splayed over her impressive bump.
Holly nibbled on her bottom lip. Honestly, these two were as sappy as a couple of high-school sweethearts, but she had to admit she envied them.
“About time,” Ralph barked when they climbed into the car. After a brief enquiry about Cassie, he launched straight into the Gilberts, aiming all his statements at Kirk.
Holly leaned back in her seat and kept her mouth shut. She knew she hadn’t earned the respect of her family, knew that it would take time. But she was determined to gain that regard eventually. No more acting out, or mouthing off. No more crazy stuff.
Like checking into one of the Rochesters’ hotels in Lake Tahoe under a fake name, flirting with the hot guy in the room next door, and then spending the night with him having crazy sex.
She sighed silently. Yeah, no more nights like that. She’d come to her senses, hadn’t she? That’s why she’d crept out of his room before dawn and checked out of the hotel. No one there knew who she really was.
She could imagine how her brother and father would react if they found out. Just Holly acting out again, like she always does. Doesn’t she know that sleeping with a hotel guest is not only tacky but against our company policy? Let’s face it; she doesn’t have it in her to contribute to the business. She’d lose what little credibility she had, and just when she’d decided to get serious about her role in the family business.
She’d done the right thing. But that didn’t make it any easier forgetting the guy.
Who was he? Where did he live? What did he do? Questions they’d agreed were trivial that night. But now she was left wondering. All she had was a name—Arlen—and an indelible memory of his sea-green eyes, his wide, sensual mouth, and the phoenix tattoo that writhed over his ripped abs.
He could be a motorcycle gang-member or a cage fighter or a CIA operative. He could be anybody from anywhere. Odds were she’d never bump into him again. And that was a good thing because she had to concentrate on being a proper Rochester.
***
Dane Schofield studied the man sitting opposite him in the striped wingback armchair. Apart from the slight jaundice, he didn’t look like a man with advanced stage pancreatic cancer. The hair was grayer, the facial lines deeper, but his stance was still upright, the eyes and jaw as aggressive as always.
Despite himself, a chill settled in the base of Dane’s spine as memories of those pitiless eyes invaded him. He gripped the armrests of his chair. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t a victim, an outsider. His father had no power over him now.
So why was he here in his father’s penthouse? Why had he listened when his father had called him out of the blue after a dozen years of complete silence? After everything he’d endured, did he still want to be a part of this family? Yes, he did. For his dead mother’s sake. That was the only reason why he’d met with Martin Schofield and agreed to his bizarre succession plan for the Schofield business empire.
Martin drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Eric will be here soon.”
Oh yeah, Eric, the firstborn, the apple of Martin’s eye. Growing up, Eric was everything Dane wasn’t. Athletic, confident, arrogant. A chip off the old block. He must be spewing that Martin wasn’t handing him complete control of the company like so many people—Dane included—had expected. Still, Eric stood a good chance of gaining that control if Dane failed his father’s test, which, given his lack of experience in the hotel business, was almost inevitable.
A tap on the door of Martin’s study had Dane turning in his chair. But instead of Eric, a teenage girl sauntered in, dressed in ripped jeans and midriff top, earphone cords dangling around her slim neck.
Martin frowned. “Saffron? What do you want?”
The girl pushed away the long blonde hair hanging over her face and glanced at Dane. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi, Saffron.”
His half-sister had been just three when Dane had stormed out of the Schofield mansion following the final confrontation with his father. In the twelve years he’d been away, she’d barely registered in his consciousness, but since he’d been back he’d met her once. On the surface Saffron seemed like the typical, monosyllabic adolescent, more interested in her phone than adults, but Dane wondered how she was faring in this less than idyllic atmosphere, especially since her parents had divorced.
“What is it, Saffron?” his father asked, a rough edge to his voice. “We’re expecting Eric soon.”
The teenager pursed her lips. “I maxed out my credit cards. Can I have a hundred bucks?”
Before Martin could reply, the phone on his desk started ringing. He waved impatiently at his daughter. “Don’t bother me now.”
Biting her lip, Saffron whirled around and stomped out on bare feet. Martin was already talking on the phone. Dane rose to his feet and followed his sister out of the study.
“Hey, wait up,” he called out to her in the hallway.
She paused and turned to look at him, her mouth turned down, her fingers clamped around her earphone cord.
“What do you need a hundred bucks for?” he asked.
Saffron shrugged. “What’s the point in going shopping if I don’t buy something?” She said it in a tone that suggested he was an idiot.
“It’s Friday. Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She looked startled. “Well, yeah, but he doesn’t care.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the study.
“Huh. Sounds a bit like what I went through at your age. The not caring bit.”
Her eyes widened,
and her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I’ve heard a few stories about you clashing with Dad. You were a total badass.” There was noticeable admiration in her tone.
“Yeah, well, I don’t recommend you follow the same path.” He folded his arms. “Do you still see your mom?”
“Not hardly. She’s somewhere in India aligning her chakras.”
Poor kid. Abandoned by one parent, neglected by the other.
“I know I’m just a boring adult to you, but we could hang out together sometime, if you like” Dane said.
Her face brightened for a moment before she seemed to remember herself. “Yeah, sure, whatevs.” She rested a hand on her hip. “So what were you and Dad talking about?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Dane decided to be open with his half-sister.
“It’s like this. You know Martin cut me out of his life years ago, but I guess with his cancer he’s had a change of heart. He’d like me to be part of the family business, but first I have to prove myself. Martin wants me to win the bid to buy this rundown hotel. I don’t know anything about hotels or winning bids. I don’t even know if I want to be part of Schofields.”
“So why do it then?”
He ran a hand over his hair. Why do it? Because before his mom had died she’d extracted a promise from him never to turn down a chance to make peace with Martin. She must’ve guessed he’d quit home as soon as he could. Even when he couldn’t get far enough away from him he’d tried to keep that promise. A few times each year he’d sent a postcard, never getting a reply, never expecting one either. In the meantime, he’d built his own business, amassed a fortune through sheer hard work. He was a genuine, self-made millionaire now. And then, a month ago, out of the blue, his father had contacted him, asked him gruffly to come to San Francisco. Dane’s first reaction had been to tell him to get stuffed. But he had a promise to keep.
“Because my mom would like it,” he said, deciding his sister didn’t need to know the bitter details. “This hotel bid, it’s Martin’s way of offering reconciliation without coming off as weak. I think we both know I don’t have a hope in hell of getting it, but I’ll go through the motions to keep him happy.”