The Tycoon's Rebel Bride
By: Maya BanksIn a distinctly masculine scrawl, he’d written his instructions for her to come to his office the next morning.An amused smile curved her lips. As arrogant as she remembered. Theron had only gotten more gorgeous over the last few years. While she’d been waiting to grow up so she could stake her claim, he’d only become more desirable. More irresistible.
It wouldn’t be easy. She didn’t imagine he’d fall readily into her arms. The Anetakis brothers were hard. They could have any woman they wanted. They were ruthless in business, but they were also loyal.
She’d made her decision already.
The trip to Europe was off. Her seduction of Theron was on.
Dear Reader,
How often in life do we think we’re on course, know exactly what we want and are taking steps to achieve that goal? There’s comfort and security in knowing just where you’re headed. But what if you got there and realized it wasn’t where you wanted to be after all?
This is the issue that Theron Anetakis struggles with in The Tycoon’s Rebel Bride. He’s ready to settle down, start a family, have a peaceful companionship with the woman he’s chosen. That is until Isabella Caplan bursts into his well-ordered existence with the force of an F5 tornado.
She manages to upend his world, but worse, she makes him question what it is he truly wants. And she teaches him the most important lesson of all: to go after what you want and never settle for less.
I hope you enjoy Bella and Theron’s story as much I loved writing it. Their story is fraught with excitement and emotion, but most important, a deep and abiding love. It’s my hope you’ll sigh along with me as they find their path to happily ever after.
Maya Banks
One
T heron Anetakis sifted through the mountain of paperwork his secretary had left on his desk for him to read, muttering expletives as he tossed letters left and right. Occasionally one would garner more than a brief glance and then he’d shove it to a separate pile of things requiring his attention. Others, he consigned to the trash can by his feet.
His takeover of the New York offices of Anetakis International hadn’t been without its pitfalls. After the discovery that one of the staff members had been selling Anetakis hotel plans to a competitor, Theron and his brothers had cleaned house, hiring new staff. The culprit, Chrysander’s former personal assistant, was behind bars after a plea bargain. They had been leery of replacing her and allowing another employee unfettered access to sensitive company information, but in the end, Theron had opted to bring in his secretary from the London office. She was older, stable and most importantly, loyal. Though after the debacle with Roslyn, none of the Anetakis brothers were keen to trust another employee implicitly.Theron’s arrival from London had been met by a pile of documents, contracts, messages and e-mails. Two days later, he was still trying to make sense of the mess. And to think his secretary had already weeded out the majority of the clutter.
He paused over one letter addressed to Chrysander and almost tossed it as junk mail, but yanked it back into his line of vision when he saw what it said. His brow furrowed deeper as he scanned the page, and stretched out his other hand for the phone.
Uncaring of the time difference, or that he would probably wake Chrysander, he punched in the number and waited impatiently for the call to go through. He spared a brief moment of guilt that he would also be disturbing Marley, Chrysander’s wife, but hopefully he would pick up the phone before it wakened her.
“This better be damn good,” Chrysander growled in a sleepy voice.
Theron didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Who the hell is Isabella?” he demanded.
“Isabella?” There was no doubt as to the confusion in Chrysander’s voice. “You’re calling me at this hour to ask me about a woman?”
“Tell me…” Theron shook his head. No, Chrysander wouldn’t be unfaithful to Marley. Whatever this woman was to Chrysander, it must have been before he met Marley. “Just tell me what I need to know in order to get rid of her,” Theron said impatiently. “I’ve a letter here informing you of her progress, whatever the hell that means, and that she’s graduated successfully.” Theron’s lips thinned in disgust. “Theos, Chrysander. Isn’t she a bit young for you to have been involved with?”
Chrysander exploded in a torrent of Greek, and Theron held the phone from his ear until the storm calmed.
“I do not like your implication, little brother,” Chrysander said in an icy voice. “I am married. Of course I am not involved with this Isabella.” And then Theron heard Chrysander’s sharp intake of breath. “Bella. Of course,” he murmured. “I’m not thinking clearly at this hour of the night.”
“And I repeat, who is this Bella?” Theron asked, his patience running out.
“Caplan. Isabella Caplan. Surely you remember, Theron.”
“Little Isabella?” Theron asked in surprise. He hadn’t remembered her at all until Chrysander mentioned her last name. An image of a gangly, preteen girl with ponytails and braces shot to mind. He’d seen her a few times since, but he honestly couldn’t conjure an image. He remembered her being shy and unassuming, always trying to fade into the background. She’d been at his parents’ funeral, but he’d been too consumed with grief to pay attention to the young woman. How old would she have been then?