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Isabelle could handle him when he was fighting with her…when he was angry. But this compassionate side was something that ambushed her defences. She didn’t want to like him. She didn’t want to respect him. She wanted to hate him. She needed to hate him, otherwise he would unravel her tightly bound emotions. She could not allow him close. To see the needs she had hidden for so long.
She tucked her hair back over her left shoulder with a sweep of her hand. ‘Please leave. I don’t want to talk to you right now.’ ‘This isn’t just about the takeover, is it?’ She rolled her eyes as she turned away. ‘As if that wasn’t enough.’ He came up behind her and planted his hands on the tops of her shoulders. It was a gentle anchoring touch that made her want to lean back against him for the support she secretly, desperately craved. But what if he had another agenda? What if he was only coming in close to exploit her further? Hadn’t he exploited her enough? He would woo her to his side, make her say and do things she might later regret. Her beloved hotel was no longer hers. Her life was being taken over by a man she didn’t know how to handle. Had never known how to handle. He was too powerful. Too sophisticated. Too everything. Billionaire’s Ultimate Acquisition Melanie Milburne An avid romance reader, MELANIE MILBURNE loves writing the books that gave her so much joy as she was busy getting married to her own hero and raising a family. Melanie has won several awards, including The Australian Readers’ Association most popular category/series romance in 2008 and the prestigious Romance Writers of Australia R*BY award in 2011. She loves to hear from readers!
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To Nas Dean. I am so grateful we met at RWA in Anaheim. My life would not be the same without you! Thank you for all you do to make my writing life run as smoothly as possible. xxx
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
NOWHERE ON ISABELLE’S list of things to do before The Meeting was there any mention of cleaning up a fur ball. She looked at Atticus in dismay. ‘You do this to me now?’ Atticus purred as he indolently lifted a front paw to groom as if to say, What is your problem? Isabelle blew out a flustered breath. ‘Why didn’t you do this yesterday when I had time to take you to the vet? Why today, when I’ve got a hundred people filing into the boardroom—’ she glanced at her watch and groaned ‘—like in about five minutes. Argh!’ She pictured the Chatsfield clan striding in—Gene and his eight adult children…and Gene’s nephew Spencer Chatsfield and his two younger brothers. Even thinking Spencer’s name made her blood boil. As if what he’d done ten years ago hadn’t been enough. How could she have fallen for someone so hard and so fast when he’d only been playing a game? That was what made her veins throb and pulse with rage. She had been too stupid to see him for what he was. Too gullible and naive to see he was toying with her because he could, not because he wanted to. Seven months ago he had come breezing back into her life with a takeover offer. A takeover offer! As if she would ever sell anything to him. But he was up to his old tricks, somehow in the interim gaining forty-nine per cent of the Harrington shares. But at least they were equals now. She had the other forty-nine so he would have his work cut out trying to get them off her. To get anything off her, including her clothes—especially her clothes. ‘I should’ve brought home the smooth-haired tortoiseshell,’ Isabelle said as she gingerly picked up the fur ball in a tissue. ‘What was I thinking getting a hair machine like you?’ Atticus blinked his green eyes and then lifted his back leg into a position Isabelle as a wannabe yogi could only envy. ‘Or a dog.’ She flushed the fur ball in the ensuite toilet. ‘One of those cute little yappy purse ones. That’s if dogs were allowed at The Harrington.’ She quickly checked her reflection in the mirror, grimacing at the way her layered hair hadn’t sat quite the way she’d wanted it to. ‘Or any pet for that matter. You should think yourself lucky I bent the rules to sneak you in.’ She came back out and looked down at her blue-grey Persian cat again. ‘Are you sure you’re not going to choke to death while I head downstairs?’ Atticus blinked again and mewed. ‘Purrht.’ Isabelle snatched up her bag and phone. ‘I hope to God that wasn’t a yes.’ Isabelle saw him as soon as she entered the boardroom. He was sitting to the left of his brothers, Ben and James. Dressed in a sharply tailored designer charcoal-grey suit, with
