Ally Blake - Untamed Billionaires - Marriage - For Business or Pleasure? / Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue / One Night with the Rebel Billionaire

All business, which was exactly why she’d agreed to accompany him to the Bachelor and Spinsters Ball tonight. A ball the Phant-A-Sea chain was sponsoring, a ball where every billionaire in Australasia would be in attendance, a ball where he’d learn how far his plan to marry Britt had got him.

Hotel occupancy was up fifty per cent, phone calls from potential investors tripling since he’d married. Maybe the old-school tycoons had finally recognised him as a successful, wealthy businessman with one thing on his mind: making his hotels the best in the world.

Tonight would prove how far he’d come, for calling him was one thing, accepting him as one of their own in public another.

Britt glanced up at that moment and their gazes locked, hot, intense, and he strode across the harvesting shed, which looked like a cross between a country-and-western saloon and a high-school disco.

It would be the plantation’s final hurrah, for once Britt had completed her work here he’d sell the place, sever ties to his past once and for all.

He’d prevaricated for the last twelve months, plagued by guilt. This place had been Papa’s pride and joy, built from the ground up with grit, sweat and determination. It had been the only place he’d ever called home but, more than that, it had been a refuge after his mum had abandoned them.

The old farmhouse should’ve repulsed him, should’ve been a constant reminder of what happened when he loved a woman too much.

But he’d deliberately blocked out the few memories of his mum, had filled his head and his heart with new ones, mostly centred on a wizened Italian man with a penchant for ripe tomatoes, coarse wine and sugar in his veins.

Papa had been more than a parent, he’d been his idol. The thought of bringing shame to the family name had stopped him from taking his rebel image too far, Papa’s steadfast support a constant reminder that he could be anybody he chose to be.

But that was the problem.

As long as he held onto the plantation, people would be reminded of his humble beginnings, would still harbour doubts about his ability to mix it with the big boys.

It would kill him to sell, would tear him clean in two, but nothing could take away memories of a father who’d helped mould him into the man he was today.

Papa would’ve understood, would’ve encouraged him to move forward, and that was exactly what he would do, despite the nagging gut feeling he was turning his back on family.

‘Well, if it isn’t the man of the moment. Glad you finally showed up at your own shindig, Mancini.’

To his amazement, Bram Rutger stuck his hand out, something he’d never done despite the many times they’d crossed paths at similar functions in Sydney or Singapore the last few years.

He shook it, vindicated his plan had worked yet despising himself for caring what this pompous old fool thought of him.

‘Business, you know how it is.’

‘That I do, my boy. Something we’ll discuss more of when you return my phone calls. I’m looking to expand my investment portfolio and I think we should talk.’

Bram’s announcement reinforced he’d made a sound business decision in marrying Britt, but his satisfaction evaporated when the old fool slipped an arm around Britt’s waist.

‘And I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve picked a fine woman here.’

Bram squeezed Britt’s waist as Nick’s hands squeezed into fists. ‘I’ve known young Brittany since she was in the cradle, so make sure you take good care of her, you hear?’

Oh, he’d take good care of her, starting with punching the supercilious coot in the nose, but he forced a smile and nodded.

‘Shall do. Now, if you’ll excuse us?’

He held out a hand, biting back a grin when Britt all but bolted out of Bram’s hold. ‘Nice seeing you again, Bram.’

She wiggled her fingers in a teasing wave and Nick growled under his breath as they walked away.

‘You shouldn’t tease the old goat. Might give him a heart attack.’

Her cheeky smile lit up her face. ‘Well, then, his kids will thank me. Apparently he’s worth billions these days.’

‘You’re incorrigible.’

She quirked an eyebrow. ‘This, coming from the guy who used to do very poor impersonations of Bram and his cronies?’

She shook her head. ‘You’ve changed. Become a snob like them.’

‘This, coming from the girl who wouldn’t sit down by Jacaranda River unless I’d spread out a blanket first? From the girl who wouldn’t hop on the back of my bike unless I made sure there wasn’t a dot of grease on the seat? From the girl who—’

‘Okay, okay, I get your point. Sheesh.’

She reached out, smoothed a lapel, her innocuous touch enough to fire his blood and set his heart pounding.

‘Nice tux, by the way. Very debonair.’

‘Glad you noticed.’

Their gazes locked again and this time he didn’t look away.

He’d already got what he came for tonight: vindication he’d made it into the big league, recognition he was more than the blue-collar farm boy he’d once been.

Time to get this party really started.

‘Come with me.’

‘Where?’

‘Does it matter?’

She shook her head, the tendrils framing her face swaying gently and beckoning him to reach out and twist one around his finger, draw her close and hold her all night. But there was plenty of time for that. For now, he’d settle for getting her alone and kissing her senseless.

‘Come on.’

He grabbed her hand and they fought their way through the crowd. He was surprised by the turnout, hundreds of well-dressed revellers who had descended on his property, bringing their own supplies, including tents for camping overnight.

Singles balls were all the rage these days and, while he liked seeing people having fun, a huge part of him was relieved he was no longer a bachelor.

It wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be, especially now he had a fortune behind him, with the women who’d once shunned him for having grease on his hands and dust in his hair clambering for a date—or, worse, a relationship.

Britt had never been like that; she’d liked him regardless and the thought sent a burst of warmth through him, urging him to pick up the pace.

‘Great turnout, huh?’

With her blue eyes glittering with excitement, she looked like a society hostess basking in the success of an event. ‘And the film crew are getting loads of footage I can use in my pitch.’

‘That’s great, though personally I can’t believe there are so many desperadoes out there.’

‘Most people are here to party, not pick up.’

They caught sight of a couple kissing in the back of a ute at the same time and Britt chuckled. ‘Well, most of them.’

‘Get a room,’ he muttered, suddenly annoyed by the sight of the amorous couple doing exactly what he’d like to be doing with the gorgeous woman by his side.

‘What for? If they’re anything like us, a room won’t sweeten the mood.’

He risked a quick glance at her face, wondering if she were serious but, by the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of her glossed mouth, she wasn’t.

‘The room doesn’t matter to us because we have an arrangement. And we’re friends.’

More the pity. Though he planned to change all that, starting tonight.

‘So are those two, by the look of it. Good friends.’ She chuckled and slipped her hand around his elbow, a casual gesture that shouldn’t have sent the blood rushing to his groin. But it did and he could barely focus on anything other than the way she smelt and how she felt tucked in to his side.

Having her stand so close to him, her signature vanilla enveloping him in seductive sweetness, was hard enough to tolerate without her smoky midnight eyes sending him signals he knew were all in his own head.