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Dial R for Revenge…
Forgiveness is a foreign concept to wealthy investment trader Jonas Deveson. Someone has been stealing from him. He's got a good idea who it is and she's going to pay….
Seeing the harsh lines that bitterness has carved into Jonas's handsome features, Ravenna Ruggiero knows he'll never see the shades of gray in her actions.
Jonas blackmails Ravenna into working as his housekeeper to pay off her debt, but living under the same roof leads to unexpected yet forbidden temptation, and Jonas is no longer sure who is being punished!
- Sales Rank: #480734 in eBooks
- Published on: 2013-10-01
- Released on: 2013-10-01
- Format: Kindle eBook
Review
"This is a terrific hate-into-love story, set in a dilapidated old manor that's a character itself." ~ 4 stars, Debbie Haupt, Romantic Times
About the Author
Annie West has devoted her life to an intensive study of tall, dark, charismatic heroes who cause the best kind of trouble in the lives of their heroines. As a sideline she’s also researched dreamy locations for romance, from vibrant cities to desert encampments and fairytale castles. Annie lives with her family at beautiful Lake Macquarie. She loves to hear from readers and you can contact her at www.annie-west.com or at PO Box 1041, Warners Bay, NSW2282, Australia.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
'I'm afraid the latest audit has thrown up an…irregularity.'
Jonas looked across his wide, polished desk and frowned as his Head of Finance shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
What sort of irregularity could make Charles Barker palpably nervous? He was the best. Jonas made it a policy only to employ the best. He didn't have patience for underper-formers. Barker ran his part of Jonas' business enterprise like a well-oiled machine.
'A significant irregularity?'
Barker shook his head. 'Not in overall financial terms.'
Since the company's total assets figured in the billions, Jonas supposed he should be relieved, but watching Barker loosen his tie, Jonas felt a prickle of foreboding.
'Spit it out, Charles.'
The other man smiled, but it turned into a grimace as he passed his laptop across the desk. 'There. The top two lines.'
Jonas noted the first entry—a transfer of several thousand pounds. Below it another, much larger entry. No details were provided for either.
'What am I looking at?'
'Withdrawals against your original investment account.' Jonas' frown became a scowl. He used that account now only to transfer personal funds between investments. 'Someone accessed my account?' But the answer was obvious. Jonas hadn't made these withdrawals. He managed day-to-day expenses elsewhere and, though large by normal standards, the withdrawals weren't significant enough to match his usual personal investments.
'We've traced them.' Of course, Barker would make it his business to have an answer before he fronted Jonas with the problem.
'And?' Curiosity rose.
'You'll remember the account was originally set up as part of a family enterprise.'
How could Jonas forget? His father had given him chapter and verse on how to run a business, pretending he, as head of the family, was the senior partner in the enterprise. But they'd both known it was Jonas' talent for spotting a sound investment, and his ruthless hunger for success, that had turned the floundering investment company around. Piers had simply been along for the ride, revelling in the novelty of success. Until father and son had parted ways.
'I remember.' Memory was a sour tang on his tongue.
Barker shifted again. 'The withdrawals were made using an old cheque book—one that had supposedly been destroyed.' Jonas looked up, catching a faint flush on the other man's cheeks. 'The records show they were accounted for but this one of your father's…'
'It's okay, I get the picture.' Jonas let his gaze drift across the unrivalled view of the City of London.
His father. Jonas hadn't called him that since childhood when he'd discovered what sort of man Piers Deveson was. Despite his bluster about honour and the family name, Piers had been no model of virtue. It shouldn't surprise Jonas to learn the old man had found a way to access his son's assets illegally. The wonder was he hadn't used it earlier.
'So Piers—'
'No!' Barker sat straighter as Jonas turned back to him. 'I'm sorry, but we've reason to believe it wasn't your father. Here.' He passed some photocopied pages across.
Jonas scanned them. Two cheques with his father's familiar flourishing signature.
Except they weren't Piers Deveson's signature. They were close enough to fool a stranger but he was familiar enough with that scrawl to spot the differences.
'Look at the dates.'
Jonas did and to his surprise felt a punch to the gut that winded him.
Bad enough to think the old man had pilfered funds. But this was—
Jonas shook his head, his lungs cramping as unexpected emotion filled him.
'The second one is dated a day after your father died.'
Silently Jonas nodded, his heart slowing to a ponderous beat. He knew the date, and not just because it was recent.
For years his father had been a thorn in his side, a blot on the family—living in gaudy luxury with his scheming mistress. They'd flaunted themselves among the rich and notorious, uncaring of any hurt they'd caused. When Piers died Jonas had felt nothing—neither regret nor an easing of the tension that had gripped him since Piers' defection had taken its ultimate toll. He'd expected to feel something. For weeks there'd been nothing, just an emptiness where emotion should have been. Yet now—
'Not my father then.' His voice was calm, belying the raw emotions churning in his gut. Beneath the desk his hands clenched.
'No. We've traced the perpetrator. And she's not too clever, given the obvious anomaly with the date.' Barker spoke quickly, obviously eager to get this over. 'It was a Ms Ruggiero. Living at this address in Paris.'
Barker handed over another paper. It bore the address of the exclusive apartment Piers Deveson had shared for the last six years with his mistress, Silvia Ruggiero.
Jonas paused before reaching out to take the paper. His fingers tingled as if it burned him.
'So.' Jonas sat back. 'My father's whore thinks she can continue to milk his family even after his death.' His voice was devoid of emotion, but he felt it deep inside like the burn of ice on bruised flesh.
How could the woman think she'd get away with this after all she'd done to the Devesons? Surely she wasn't stupid enough to expect mercy?
His pulse thudded as he thought of the woman who'd destroyed so much.
He remembered Silvia Ruggiero as clearly as if he'd seen her yesterday, her voluptuous figure, flashing eyes and froth of dark hair. Sex on legs, one of his friends had said the first time he'd seen Silvia, who was then the Devesons' housekeeper. And he'd been right. Not even a drab uniform had doused the woman's vibrant sexuality.
That had been mere weeks before Jonas' father had turned his back on family and responsibility, let alone respectability, by running off with his housekeeper to set her up in a luxury Paris apartment.
Four months later Jonas' mother was found dead. An accidental overdose, the coroner had said. But Jonas knew the truth. After years spurned by the man she'd loved, his public repudiation had finally been too much. His mother had taken her own life.
Jonas breathed deep, pulling oxygen into cramped lungs. Now the woman responsible for his mother's death had struck again. She had the nerve to think she could continue to steal from him!
The paper in his hand crackled as his fist tightened slowly, inexorably. Fury surged, tensing every sinew. His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth against a rising tide of useless invective.
Jonas never wasted energy on words when actions were so much more effective.
For six years he'd spurned the idea of revenge. He'd risen above that temptation, burying himself in work and refusing any contact with Piers or his gold-digging mistress.
But now this—the straw that broke the camel's back.
The blood raced hot and sharp in his veins as for the first time Jonas allowed himself to contemplate fully the pleasures of retribution.
'Leave this to me, Charles.' Jonas smiled slowly, his facial muscles pulling tight. 'There's no need to report the fraud. I'll sort it out personally.'
Ravenna surveyed the apartment in despair. Most of the furnishings she knew now were fake, from the gilded Louis Quinze chairs to the china masquerading as period Limoges and Sevres.
Mamma had always been adept at making ends meet, even through the toughest times.
A reluctant smile tugged Ravenna's lips. Life in a swanky apartment in the Place des Vosges, one of Paris's premier addresses, hardly counted as tough, not like the early days of Ravenna's childhood when food had been scarce and the winters cold without enough blankets or warm clothes. But those early experiences had stood her mother in good stead. When the money began to run out she'd methodically turned to replacing the priceless antiques with copies.
Silvia Ruggiero had always made do, even if her version of 'making do' lately had been on a preposterously luxurious scale. But it was what Piers had wanted and in Silvia's eyes that was all that mattered.
Ravenna tugged in a shaky breath. Her mother was far better off in Italy staying with a friend, instead of here, coping with the aftermath of Piers' death. If only she'd told Ravenna straight away about his heart attack. Ravenna would have been here the same day. Even now she could barely believe her mother had kept that to herself, worrying instead about disturbing Ravenna with more trouble!
Mothers! Did they ever believe their children grew up?
Silvia had been barely recognisable when Ravenna had arrived in Paris from Switzerland. For the first time her gorgeous mother had looked older than her age, worn by grief. Ravenna was concerned for her. Piers might not have been Ravenna's favourite but her mother had loved him.
No, Mamma was better off out of this. Packing up here was the least Ravenna could do, especially after Piers' generosity when she most needed it. So what if it meant facing creditors and selling what little her mother had left?
She returned to her inventory, glad she'd organised for an expert to visit and separate any valuable items from the fakes. To Ravenna they all looked obscenely expensive and rather ostentatious. But since her home was a sparsely furnished bedsit in a nondescript London suburb, she was no judge.
Jonas pressed the security buzzer a second time, wondering if she was out and his spur of the moment trip to Paris had been an impetuous waste of time.
He didn't do impetuous. He was methodical, measured and logical. But he also had a razor-sharp instinct for weakness, for the optimum time to strike. And surely now, mere weeks after Piers' death, his father's mistress would be feeling the pinch as creditors started to circle.
Static buzzed and a husky, feminine voice spoke in his ear. 'Hello?'
Yes! His instinct had been right.
'I'm here to see Madam Ruggiero.'
'Monsieur Giscard? I was expecting you. Please come up.'
Jonas pushed open the security door into a marble foyer. He ignored the lift and strode up the couple of floors to what had been his father's love nest. Suppressing a shiver of revulsion, he rapped on the door of the apartment.
It swung open almost immediately and he stepped past a slim young woman into a lavishly furnished foyer. Through an open door he glimpsed an overfull salon but no sign of the woman he'd come to see. He moved towards the inner room.
'You're not Monsieur Giscard.' The accusation halted him.
He swung round to find eyes the colour of rich sherry fixed on him. 'No. I'm not.'
For the first time he paused to survey the woman properly and something—surprise?—rushed through him.
Slim to the point of fragility, she nevertheless had curves in all the right places, even if they were obscured by ill-fitting dark clothes. But it was her face that arrested him. Wide lush mouth, strong nose, angled cheekbones that gave her a fey air, lavish dark lashes and rather straight brows framing eyes so luminous they seemed to glow. Each feature in her heart-shaped face was so definite that together they should have jarred. Instead they melded perfectly.
She was arresting. Not pretty but something much rarer. Jonas felt his pulse quicken as heat shot low in his body.
He stiffened. When was the last time the sight of a woman, even a uniquely beautiful one, had affected him?
'And you are?' She tilted her head, drawing his gaze from her ripe mouth to the ultra-short sable hair she wore like a chic, ruffled cap. Another few weeks and she'd have curls.
He frowned. Why notice that when he had more important matters on his mind?
'Looking for Madam Ruggiero. Silvia Ruggiero.' It surprised him how difficult it was to drag his gaze away and back to the apartment's inner rooms.
'You don't have an appointment.' There was something new in her voice. Something hard and flat.
'No.' His mouth curled in a smile of grim anticipation. 'But she'll see me.'
The young woman strode back into his line of sight, blocking his way to the salon. Jonas catalogued the lithe grace of her movements even as he told himself he didn't have time for distractions.
She shook her head. 'You're the last person she'd see.'
'You know who I am?' His gaze sharpened as he took in her defiant stance—arms akimbo and feet planted wide, as if she could prevent him if he chose to push past! She was tall, her mouth on a level with his collarbone, and she stared up at him with complete assurance.
'It took me a moment but of course I do.' A flicker of expression crossed her features so swiftly Jonas couldn't read it. But he watched her swallow and realised she wasn't as confident as she appeared. Interesting.
'And you are?' Jonas was used to being recognised from press reports, but instinct told him he'd met this woman before. Something about her tugged at half-buried memory.
'Forgettable, obviously.' Her lips twisted in a self-deprecating smile that ridiculously drove a spike of heat through his belly.
Jonas blinked. She wasn't smiling at him yet he reacted.
Annoyance flared. He drew himself up, watching her gaze skate across his shoulders and chest.
'She's not here.' The words tumbled out in a breathless rush that belied her aggressively protective stance. 'So you can't see her.'
'Then I'll wait.' Jonas stepped forward, only to come up against her slim frame, vibrating with tension. He'd expected her to give way. She surprised him with her determination to stand her ground. But he refused to retreat, no matter how distracting the sensation of her body against his. His business with Silvia Ruggiero was long overdue.
He looked down and her golden brown eyes widened as if in shock.
'I'm not going away,' he murmured, suppressing an inexplicable desire to lift his hand and see if her pale face was as soft as it appeared. The realisation threw him, making his voice emerge harshly. 'My business won't wait.'
Again she swallowed. He followed the movement of her slim throat with a fascination that surprised him. The scent of her skin filled his nostrils: feminine warmth and the tang of cinnamon.
Abruptly she stepped back, her chest rising and falling quickly, drawing his attention till he snapped his eyes back to her face.
'In that case you can talk with me.' She turned and led the way into the salon, her steps a clipped, staccato beat on the honey-coloured wood floor.
Jonas dragged his gaze from the sway of her hips in dark trousers and followed, furious to find himself distracted from his purpose even for a moment.
She settled herself on an overstuffed chair near a window framed by cloth of gold curtains. Hoping to put him at a disadvantage with her back to the light? It was such an obvious ploy. Instead of taking a seat Jonas prowled the room, knowing that with each passing moment her unease increased. Whoever she was, she was in cahoots with Silvia Ruggiero. Jonas wouldn't trust her an inch.
'Why should I share my business with a stranger?' He peered at an over-decorated ormolu clock.
Was there nothing in this place that wasn't overdone? It reeked of a nouveau riche fixation with show and quantity rather than quality. His cursory survey had revealed the best pieces in the room to be fakes. But that had been his father—all show and no substance. Especially when it came to things like love or loyalty.
'I'm not a stranger.' Her tone was curt. 'Perhaps if you stopped your crude inventory you'd realise that.'
To Jonas' surprise unfamiliar heat rose under his skin. True, his behaviour was crass, calculated to unnerve rather than reassure. But he felt no need to ingratiate himself with his father's mistress or her crony.
He took his time swinging around to meet her eyes.
'Then perhaps you'll do me the courtesy of answering my question. Who are you?'
'I thought that would be obvious. I'm Ravenna. Silvia's daughter.'
Most helpful customer reviews
13 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
An Enticing Read from Annie West
By Mary L. Valley
This book is an interesting study of contrasts in how far one person will go to protect her mother, as opposed to far a different one will go to obtain revenge the injuries done his mother.
The hero has been living under a cloud of anger for years about his father's treatment of his mother, leading to her apparent suicide. Since his father has suddenly died, leaving the hero with no final resolution in his troubled relationship with this last parent, he can only look to get his satisfaction from the deceased man's latest mistress, their former housekeeper when an audit shows she embezzled money from the company his father founded, but which he has been keeping afloat for years, even managing to oust and replace his father in running it before the father could sink it with excess spending and bad business decisions. When the hero goes to the Paris apartment his father shared with his mistress to confront her, he finds instead the fragile daughter, whom he hasn't seen for years. The heroine, who spent her growing years either in poverty with her mother, or being judged by the rich children around her for the fact that she was the help's daughter, and later because her mother became involved with her employer, has worked hard to make something of herself in fulfilling her dream of becoming a chef.
The heroine, having seen her mother falsely accused years ago, and how much damage was done to her, isn't prepared for her to face this ordeal again. Especially since the money was given to the heroine who is recovering from a serious health problems with the mother's assurance that it was from her lover. Realizing now how her mother obtained the money she had given the h during her recovery, and unwilling to throw her to the wolves (in the form of the hero), she decides to take the rap. Rather than tell all to the hero, since she has no expectation from his behavior that he would understand, she allows him to think she used it for debts.
The hero, meanwhile, has developed serious lust towards the heroine and is reluctant to just send her off to jail (this IS an HP, after all). He decides to make her work off her debt by solely cleaning up his childhood home which he is preparing to live in again. It is in need of renovation and repairs, and a good cleaning. When he goes to the house to personally oversee the heroine's work and make sure she is not slacking, he is brought to realize the full extent of the house and damage to it and the herculean task he has set the h. He and she also succumb to each other which the hero, in fine HP fashion, blames on the heroine always ascribing the worst possible motives to her actions, her mother's actions, and their impact on his home life as well as their value as human beings. Unlike most of the HP hero's, this one isn't a total jerk and realizes his behavior and speech were over the line and works toward establishing a better working relationship with the heroine.
It isn't until the hero finds and reads his mother's journals however, that he realizes most of her pain came from much earlier in the marriage. His view that the heroine's mother was a major part of her depressing existence and terrible ending was from the jaundiced view of an unhappy, emotionally neglected child. He even discovers that, in her combat with an uncaring husband, the hero's mother had aborted the sibling the hero had always wanted, being a lonely only child. So, his view of the heroine and her mother, already in flux from him facing the depth of the pathology in his parent's marriage is shaken again by his discovery that the heroine, far from being a gambling spendthrift had actually been fighting for her life against cancer. He also learns that she couldn't possibly have been the embezzler, since she was in treatment at the time. Now he is faced with his own prejudices and he realizes he was never entitled to the moral high ground over the heroine he had arrogantly staked out. He also honors the love of a mother for her daughter and promises not to pursue the heroine's mother.
Forming a true partnership with the heroine in renovating his childhood home, he spills his dreams of raising his own family there. The heroine, now in charge of a crew of craftsmen, workers, and gardeners, realizes that she has already given her heart to the h and how unlikely it is that they could ever breach the class barriers since her cancer treatments have left her barren. She is a proud woman, refusing gifts from the hero and just waiting until after the opening ball to leave and resume her life, now cancer free and soon to be empty of the hero. When he proposes after the ball, she is forced to reveal the cost of her life was her ability to bear children and she walks away from the shocked and shaken hero.
He is late coming to the realization of his love for the heroine, so the question comes down to the hero asking himself, can he give up one part of his dream, long held and deeply entrenched, to obtain the woman he loves?
There could have been a bit more grovel (hence the missing star), but this book is one of the more satisfying books from the HP line, so I won't complain overly much about that. I felt the characters were well built and developed nicely, especially given the shorter format of an HP book. There is always sexual content in these books, but less than in others and elegantly written. It is an enjoyable read and I highly recommend it.
6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
An Enticing Read to Remember
By Susan Rees
When Jonas Deveson decides to exact revenge on the woman who ran away with his father and left his mother a broken woman, he doesn't realise just how sweet that revenge will be. Presented with evidence of fraudulent withdrawals from the family account, Jonas travels to Paris to confront his dead father's mistress. Instead, he finds her daughter, Ravenna Ruggiero, who claims to have committed the theft. In a nice touch of irony and with the mother missing, Jonas decides to put the Ruggiero women back where they belong--as servants--by forcing Ravenna to become his housekeeper at the ancestral home, just like her mother before her. And if he can enjoy his pound of flesh with the luscious Ravenna, even better.
I love how Annie West creates such powerful tension and apparently insurmountable conflicts between her characters, forcing them to examine their deepest fears and insecurities on the way to finding their happy-ever-after. Her writing sparkles with powerful emotions and sizzling tension, and entices the reader to take the emotional rollercoaster ride she puts her characters through. Long after you've turned the last page, you won't be able to forget them, and you'll have that lovely feeling of contentment that their happy-ever-after was fully deserved.
7 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Reviewed by Desere Steenberg
By Desere Steenberg
I am sure that none of us ever stops to think what the life of the hired help is like, nor their children.
They work hard to provide for their families but they also face being treated badly by their employers, and having to face their children being bullied and ridiculed for being the hired help's child.
It is a tough life but they do realise that without a job they will not be able to provide for their children so they do their job and take whatever comes their way, all the while trying everything within their power to protect their children.
But when life throws them a opportunity of a lifetime could anyone blame them for grabbing the chance to put their feet up and for once allow themselves to wallow away in luxury. Silvia Ruggiero does just this, when Pier's takes her as his mistress and the housekeeper becomes the number one woman in his life, only Piers does not stop to think what this indiscretion will do to his wife and son and nor does Silvia think what the outcome will be one day when Piers's son wants revenge and she will not be there when judgement day comes around to offer her daughter protection.
Here is where the focus comes in on Ravenna and Jonas. Jonas leans of a theft in his finances and goes after the culprit only the culprit is not who he thought it would be and instead he faces the housekeeper's daughter Ravenna, or rather daughter the to gold-digging no good woman who lured his father to her bed and away from his mother. He will extract revenge by making her pay and pay dearly, punishment will be the highlight of his plan, but once he has her at his command for-filling his every whim he falls for the temptation that is Ravenna, but he vows that having her in his bed will not make him a fool as his father had been.
The character of Ravenna was well written and I liked that the author dug a little into what life is like when you are the child of the hired help. It showed clearly that people never stop to take the time and see the person behind the title how ever low the title may be, they instead carry on with their lives never stopping to think that the person behind the title is also human and has feelings, hopes and dreams. I liked that the author gave Ravenna a backbone to stand up and fight for what needs to be done, never breaking down and allowing people to see their hurtful words and actions getting to her. A strong capable heroine.
The character of Jonas was less likeable as he pretty much treats Ravenna as scum making her work so hard her fingers are raw , but the author did also show that it all comes down to the hurt he needed to face when his mother's world crumbled and there was nothing he could do except stand by and watch as she lost the will to live. It also reminded me that once we are set on revenge their is very little that will open our eyes to the truth and we tend to push through and most of the time it is too late and the realisation of wrong hits after the damage is already too severe.
The backdrop was mostly set in a huge, expensive old and very run down mansion , for me as reader this mirrored the lives of both Ravenna and Jonas, for Jonas it represented how empty his life is even though he has it all and for Ravenna the state that her life has always been, alone in the big world trying to always face her way out of some or another situation.
The dialogue was very emotional with a touch of sensual and sexy. I am taking away a message of regret comes to late and when faced with revenge or stopping to grab hold of the life you realise you need, the best is to follow your heart instead of your actions, for when looking into your heart you will find the space for hatred is so small and overshadowed by love that nothing not even pity and guilt can kill that love once found.
I highly recommend this read for all fans of romance reads with a deep emotional and heart-warming look at the lives of the rich vs the poor and the masks kept in place for the sake of hiding pain, all blended together with a touch of sensuality.
4 star review
" He needs revenge but the revenge turns into a temptation he cannot resist"
Copy provided by the author in exchange for a honest review
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