The Billionaire's Revenge (Tycoon Billionaires 3)

“By advertisers – all of whom are supposed to be local and ethical. But ethical businesses in these parts are becoming rare. They’re really struggling for donations right now.”

“That’s a shame – they sound awesome. How did you get involved with them?”

“I’ve been contributing to them since I was fifteen. All through college.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was studying in New York, so it was easy, you know.” Her body stung with a wave of sadness. “It’s like the end of an era. I’ll go see them first thing – it’s a real shame, especially now they’re running out of money. Talk about abandoning a sinking ship.”

“Maybe there’s something we can do to help?”

“We?”

He smirked. “Well, you know… you…”

Eleanor grinned at him. He was actually very sweet under that rockstar exterior. She knew he’d organised a charity concert for his birthday just before they’d made the big time. There was obviously a generous heart inside that gorgeous chest of his.

“Anyway,” she said with a sigh, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Oh same as usual. Annoying Matthew; feeling smug that I’ve screwed his girl again.”

She whipped her head up to look at him. Oh my god, had he been stringing her along simply to get one up on Matthew?

He kissed her on the forehead. “Just kidding. Well, not really, but that’s not my reason for being here with you, okay.”

She prodded his sculpted chest. “Good.”

He kissed her hard on the lips. “But it would make me feel even better if I managed to make you come again before I see him tomorrow. How about it?”

Lust surged in her thighs, replacing the tender mood. She grinned. “I think that would be absolutely wonderful!”

Chapter Eleven

Breaking up was never going to be easy. Eleanor’s nerves spattered through her like the icy drizzle that clattered off her umbrella – as she click-clacked in her heels down the wintry street. She hoped this morning’s ‘goodbye’ would prepare her for when she imminently told Matthew to take a hike. She’d made up her mind: regardless of what was happening with Joseph Quinlan – which was probably nothing – she needed to get out of her current relationship.

She’d almost broken it off with Matthew this morning, but she’d decided to wait. She was still buzzing from her glorious tryst with Joseph last night, and she didn’t want her confessions of infidelity to accidentally slip out and make things even worse between Matthew and Joseph. But Joseph could hold his own – Eleanor knew that from experience.

She grinned. The freezing air bit into her pantyhose, numbing her legs, but she glowed within – radiating an internal sunshine that Joseph had put there. Despite the freezing rain, her body sparkled with excitement today – a lust for life. But her heart was a bundle of confusion; right and wrong were twisting and turning this way and that. She knew it was wrong to be screwing Joseph, but it felt so right. And she knew it was right to resign from The Big Society, because they couldn’t offer her any career prospects – but the thought of it left her feeling empty and sad. She halted at the entrance of The Big Society’s offices and rested her hand on the door handle, preparing herself to tell her friends about her new job. She knew she shouldn’t even be here – she needed to get on with her story about Pierre – but some of her best moments over the last decade had been in these offices, and she felt she owed Sasha and Ashok a proper goodbye – they’d nurtured and encouraged her ever since the day she marched in as a headstrong fifteen-year-old, offering them her budding journalistic services for free.

They’d paid her, of course – for every article. But now it was time to say goodbye…

The Big Society’s building was nothing like New Scape’s Press HQ. It was in a parade of stores on the outskirts of town, nestled between a bakery and a thrift shop. It had been a café before Sasha and Ashok had transformed it into a small-press office. The wooden floorboards could probably do with replacing, and there was the crack in the huge bay window at the front that needed fixing. But it was warm and homey, and as Eleanor stepped inside, the sweet-honey vibes caressed her shivering body.

The place was abuzz as always. The front section of the building housed the main office, where Sasha and Ashok wrote their weekly stories – and the archaic printing press was out back in the old industrial kitchen. There was still a sink and a huge fridge back there, which made it rather surreal, but it seemed to work okay. Eleanor closed the door behind her – shutting out the cold – and gazed at Sasha, who was sitting at her rickety desk taking a call. Sasha was always cheerful – the antithesis of Blair Robertson. She glanced up and waved at Eleanor, throwing her a maternal grin. Sadness spiralled in her chest at what she was about to do.

Sasha wound up her call and strode over to hug Eleanor. “Hey, sweet-cheeks. Come and warm up by the heater. It’s freezing today, huh?”

Eleanor stepped back and gazed into Sasha’s kind eyes. “Sasha, I’ve got some news…”

Sasha gasped. “Oh, so have we – guess who’s just showed up to give us an exclusive!”

Eleanor shrugged. “Who?”

Sasha opened her mouth to explain, but Eleanor’s attention was grasped by a movement by the kitchen door. She watched as Ashok stepped through holding a mug of coffee. Followed by Joseph Quinlan.

Joseph smiled warmly. “Morning, Eleanor. I’ve come to offer my services.”

She stared at him, trying to steady her wobbling knees. “Uh… for what?”