Page 1 of The Billionaire's Secret

Prologue

I have a heart that never beats, I have a home but I never sleep. I can take a man's house and build another's, I love to play games with my many brothers. I am a king among fools. Who am I?

Answer: The King of Hearts in a deck of cards

Victoria

"Will he or won't he?"

I turn to the man playing the role of my husband, "Who are you talking about?" I ask.

"Saint," He replies.

"Who?"

"The man glowering at you from across the garden." Adam swipes a finger under his collar, "I wonder if he'll approach you before the night is over?"

I angle my body, but he shakes his head, "Don't look there."

Right.I swallow. "Is that good?"

"It's perfect." he reassures me. "Things are on plan."

This is what I want, don't I? This is why I am here. So why is my heart pounding? Why is my stomach tying itself in knots? A trickle of sweat runs down my spine.

"Act natural." He half smiles.

I swallow, tip up my chin.I can do this.

"Come, dear, meet your stepdaughter," he beckons.

I step forward, and my heels sink into the lawns attached to the beautiful town house located in prime real estate in the heart of London. I smooth my palm down the golden brown dress that comes to below my knees. Good thing I'd packed this dress near the top of my luggage; that had made it much easier to change before leaving the airport. Finding the shoes had been a different story. Our flight from LAX to London had been delayed, leaving no time to spare for a stop at our hotel.

The hair on the nape of my neck prickles. An electric shiver runs up my spine. I jerk my chin up.

Blue eyes blaze at me—cerulean, cold, never-ending whorls of cornflowers in summer time, the dark depths of a lake before the water freezes over. How could so many facets be intertwined with his gaze? I swallow, sweat beads my palm.

The words fromHappiness is a Warm Gun,by the Beatles scroll across my mind. Heat flushes my cheeks. I have a penchant for the Beatles, but why the hell did I have to think of that particular song?

Saint glances from me to my 'husband.' His jaw tics. Anger rolls off of him, a thick black cloud that slams into my chest, sinks into my blood, hooks into me and seems to yank me toward him.Closer, get closer.I gasp and my fingers tremble.

Saint's gaze intensifies and a shiver crawls up my spine. My toes curl. Why am I so affected by his presence?

Adam nudges me.

I blink; tear my gaze away from the stranger. "Summer." I hold my hand out to my stepdaughter. "It's lovely to meet you."

She's beautiful in her wedding dress. At twenty-one, she is a year younger than me. And she has already found the man of her dreams. Me? I am taking it one day at a time. I am trying to survive. I clutch my handbag to my side.

Summer swallows. "I didn’t realize…"

"That you had a stepmother?" I ask.

“...that I had a father.” She glances at the man she is meeting after fifteen years.

Adam shuffles his feet, "I was hoping you two could get acquainted," he mumbles.

Across from me, Saint widens his stance; his hands are clenched at his sides. Huh? Is he upset about something?