Barbara Wallace - The Tycoon And I - Safe in the Tycoon's Arms / The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner / Swept Away by the Tycoon

The Tycoon and I

Safe in the Tycoon’s Arms

Jennifer Faye

The Tycoonand the Wedding Planner

Kandy Shepherd

Swept Away by the Tycoon

Barbara Wallace

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page The Tycoon and I Safe in the Tycoon’s Arms Jennifer Faye The Tycoonand the Wedding Planner Kandy Shepherd Swept Away by the Tycoon Barbara Wallace www.millsandboon.co.uk

Safe in the Tycoon’s Arms Safe in the Tycoon’s Arms Jennifer Faye

About the Author In another life, JENNIFER FAYE was a statistician. She still has a love for numbers, formulas and spread-sheets, but when she was presented with the opportunity to follow her lifelong passion and spend her days writing and pursuing her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author, she couldn’t pass it up. These days, when she’s not writing, Jennifer enjoys reading, fine needlework, quilting, tweeting and cheering on the Pittsburgh Penguins. She lives in Pennsylvania with her amazingly patient husband, two remarkably talented daughters and their two very spoiled fur babies otherwise known as cats—but shh … don’t tell them they’re not human! Jennifer loves to hear from readers—you can contact her via her website: www.JenniferFaye.com .

Dedication For Viv. Thank you for being such a good friend over the years. Your helpful advice and unending support are deeply appreciated. Here’s to the future of possibilities.

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner

About the Author

Dedication

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Swept Away by the Tycoon

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Copyright

Safe in the Tycoon’s Arms

Jennifer Faye

In another life, JENNIFER FAYEwas a statistician. She still has a love for numbers, formulas and spread-sheets, but when she was presented with the opportunity to follow her lifelong passion and spend her days writing and pursuing her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author, she couldn’t pass it up. These days, when she’s not writing, Jennifer enjoys reading, fine needlework, quilting, tweeting and cheering on the Pittsburgh Penguins. She lives in Pennsylvania with her amazingly patient husband, two remarkably talented daughters and their two very spoiled fur babies otherwise known as cats—but shh … don’t tell them they’re not human!

Jennifer loves to hear from readers—you can contact her via her website: www.JenniferFaye.com.

For Viv.

Thank you for being such a good friend over the years.

Your helpful advice and unending support are deeply appreciated. Here’s to the future of possibilities.

CHAPTER ONE

A DEAFENING CRACK of thunder rumbled through the darkened house. Kate Whitley pressed a hand to her pounding chest. She’d hated storms since she was a little kid. A brilliant flash of lightning sent shards of light slashing across the hallway while rain pelted the window.

Mother Nature certainly had a wicked sense of humor. Actually, it seemed as though life as a whole was mocking Kate. Absolutely nothing was going according to plan, no matter how hard she fought to put things right.

Her fingers pushed against the cold metallic plate on the swinging hall door. Inside the kitchen, the glare from the overhead light caused her to squint. What in the world was going on? She could have sworn she’d turned everything off before going upstairs. Hadn’t she?

She sighed and shook her head. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. The long nights of tossing and turning instead of sleeping were finally catching up to her. And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. In a few more hours, she had to be fully alert. There were decisions only she could make—lifesaving decisions.

If only she could get a little shut-eye, she’d be able to think clearly. But first, Mother Nature had to quiet down. No one could rest with all this ruckus.

It didn’t ease her nerves being away from home, even if she was staying in a New York City mansion. This place was nothing like her two-bedroom, ranch-style house in Pennsylvania. Though this oversize house contained some of the most breathtaking architecture, there was something missing—the warmth that made a building more than just a place to hang your coat, the coziness that made it home.

In a big city where she barely knew anyone, she and this house had a couple of things in common—being lonely and forgotten. Somehow it seemed like fate that she’d ended up in this deserted mansion. A warm, loving home had somehow always eluded her, and just when she thought she’d made one of her own, it too was about to be snatched out from under her.

Sadness weighed heavily on her as her bare feet moved silently across the kitchen tiles. The coldness raced up through her pink painted toes to her bare legs and sent goose bumps cascading down her arms. Spring may have brought warmer days, but the nights were still chilly. She rubbed her palms up and down her arms, willing away her discomfort. Perhaps her long T-shirt wasn’t the warmest choice for this soggy night, but with her living out of a suitcase, her choices were quite limited.

She yawned and opened the door of the stainless-steel refrigerator. She hadn’t had any appetite until now. With so much riding on this upcoming meeting, she’d ended up with a stress headache for most of the day. But back here ensconced between these quiet, peaceful walls, the pain had loosened its vicelike grip.

Now she needed something to ease her hunger pangs. Other than a few meager groceries she’d placed in there earlier, the glass shelves were bare. The friend who’d let her stay here free of charge said the owner was out of town and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. From the empty cabinets to the dust-covered bedrooms, Kate deduced no one had lived here in quite a while.

With an apple in hand, she filled a glass of water. She’d just turned off the faucet when she heard faint but distinct footsteps. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Either this place had some mighty big rats...or she wasn’t alone.

“Stop right there!” boomed a male voice.

So much for the rat theory.

Her heart lodged in her throat, blocking a terrified scream. Who was this man? And what did he want with her? Her lungs started to burn. Was he a thief, a desperate junkie...or worse?

She struggled to suck air past the enormous lump in her throat. A nervous tremor in her hand caused droplets of water to spill over the rim of the glass. Why had she put herself in such peril by making the rash decision to stay in this deserted house alone? After all, what did she know about her newfound friend? Not much. They’d only met a week ago. The older woman had seemed so nice—so understanding in Kate’s time of need.