Deal With The Devil: Secrets of a Ruthless Tycoon / The Most Expensive Lie of All / The Magnate's Manifesto

‘There’s a pub, sir.’

Leo followed his driver’s pointing finger and made out an ancient pub that optimistically boasted ‘vacancies’. He wondered what the passing tourist trade could possibly be in a town that time appeared to have forgotten.

‘Drop me off here, Harry, and you can head off.’ He was travelling light: one holdall, suitably battered, into which he now stuffed his slim laptop.

Already, he was making comparisons between what appeared to be this tiny town of splendid isolation and the completely different backdrop to life with his adoptive parents. The busy Surrey village in which he had been brought up buzzed with a veritable treasure trove of trendy gastropubs and designer shops. The landscape was confined and neatly manicured. The commuter links to London were excellent and that was reflected in the high-end property market. Gated mansions were hidden from prying eyes by long drives. On Saturdays, the high street was bursting with expensive people who lived in the expensive houses and drove the expensive cars.

He stepped out of the Range Rover to a gusty wind and freezing cold.

The ancient pub looked decidedly more inviting given the temperatures outside and he strode towards it without hesitation.

* * *

Inside the pub, Brianna Sullivan was nursing an incipient headache. Even in the depths of winter, Friday nights brought in the crowds and, whilst she was grateful for their patronage, she yearned for peace and quiet. Both seemed about as elusive as finding gold dust in the kitchen sink. She had inherited this pub from her father nearly six years ago and there were no allowances made for time out. There was just her, and it was her livelihood. Choice didn’t feature heavily on the menu.

‘Tell Pat he can come and get his own drinks at the bar,’ she hissed to Shannon. ‘We’re busy enough here without you carrying trays of drinks over to him because he broke his leg six months ago. He’s perfectly capable of getting them himself, or else he can send that brother of his over to get them.’ At one end of the bar, Aidan and two of his friends were beginning to sing a rousing love song to grab her attention.

‘I’ll have to chuck you out for unruly behaviour,’ she snapped at Aidan as she slid refills for them along the counter.

‘You know you love me, darling.’

Brianna shot him an exasperated look and told him that he either settled his tab in full, right here and right now, or else that was the last pint he was going to get.

She needed more people behind the bar but what on earth would she do with them on the week days, when the place was less rowdy and busy? How could she justify the expenditure? And yet, she barely had enough time to function properly. Between the bookkeeping, the stock taking, the ordering and the actual standing behind the bar every night, time—the one thing she didn’t have—was galloping past. She was twenty-seven years old and in the blink of an eye she would be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and still doing the things she was doing now, still struggling to kick back. She was young but, hell, she felt old a lot of the time.

Aidan continued to try his banter on her but she blocked him out. Now that she had begun feeling sorry for herself, she was barely aware of what was going on around her.

Surely her years at university had not equipped her to spend the rest of her life running this pub? She loved her friends and the tight-knit community but surely she was entitled to just have some fun? Six months of fun was all she had had when she had finished university, then it had been back here to help look after her father who had managed to drink himself into a premature grave.

Not a day went by when she didn’t miss him. For twelve years after her mother had died it had been just the two of them, and she missed his easy laughter, his support, his corny jokes. She wondered how he would feel if he knew that she was still here, at the pub. He had always wanted her to fly away and develop a career in art, but then little had he known that he would not be around to make that possible.

She only became aware that something was different when, still absorbed in her own thoughts, it dawned on her that the bar had grown silent.

In the act of pulling a pint, she raised her eyes and there, framed in the doorway, was one of the most startlingly beautiful men she had ever seen in her life. Tall, windswept dark hair raked back from a face that was shamefully good-looking. He didn’t seem in the slightest taken aback by the fact that all eyes were on him as he looked around, his midnight-black eyes finally coming to rest on her.

Brianna felt her cheeks burn at the casual inspection, then she returned to what she was doing and so did everyone else. The noise levels once again rose and the jokes resumed; old Connor did his usual and began singing lustily and drunkenly until he was laughed down.

She ignored the stranger, yet was all too aware of his presence, and not at all surprised that when she next glanced up it was to find him standing right in front of her.

‘The sign outside says that there are vacancies.’ Leo practically had to shout to make himself heard above the noise. The entire town seemed to have congregated in this small pub. Most of the green leather stools assembled along the bar were filled, as were the tables. Behind the bar, two girls were trying hard to keep up with the demands—a small, busty brunette and the one in front of whom he was now standing. A tall, slender girl with copper-coloured hair which she had swept up into a rough pony tail and, as she looked at him, the clearest, greenest eyes he had ever seen.

‘Why do you want to know?’ Brianna asked.

His voice matched the rest of him. It was deep and lazy and induced an annoying, fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘Why do you think? I need to rent a room and I take it this is the only place in the village that rents rooms...?’

‘Is it not good enough for you?’

‘Where’s the owner?’

‘You’re looking at her.’

He did, much more thoroughly this time. Bare of any make-up, her skin was satin-smooth and creamy white. There was not a freckle in sight, despite the vibrant colour of her hair. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a long-sleeved jumper but neither detracted from her looks.

‘Right. I need a room.’

‘I will show you up to one just as soon as I get a free moment. In the meantime, would you like something to drink?’ What on earth was this man doing here? He certainly wasn’t from around these parts, nor did he know anyone around here. She would know. It was a tiny community; they all knew each other in some way, shape or form.

‘What I’d like is a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.’

‘Both will have to wait, Mr...?’

‘My name is Leo and, if you give me a key and point me in the right direction, I’ll make my own way upstairs. And, by the way, is there anywhere to eat around here?’

Not only was the man a stranger but he was an obnoxious one. Brianna could feel her hackles rising. Memories of another good-looking, well-spoken stranger rose unbidden to the foreground. As learning curves went, she had been taught well what sort of men to avoid.

‘You’ll have to go into Monaghan for that,’ she informed him shortly. ‘I can fix you a sandwich but—’

‘Yes—but I’ll have to wait because you’re too busy behind the bar. Forget the food. If you need a deposit, tell me how much and then you can give me the key.’

Brianna shot him an impatient glance and called over to Aidan. ‘Take the reins,’ she told him. ‘And no free drinks. I’ve got to show this man to a room. I’ll be back down in five minutes, and if I find out that you’ve helped yourself to so much as a thimble of free beer I’ll ban you for a week.’

‘Love you too, Brianna.’

‘How long would you be wanting the room for?’ was the first thing she asked him as soon as they were out of the bar area and heading upstairs. She was very much aware of him following her and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Had she lived so long in this place that the mere sight of a halfway decent guy was enough to bring her out in a cold sweat?

‘A few days.’ She was as graceful as a dancer and he was tempted to ask why a girl with her looks was running a pub in the middle of nowhere. Certainly not for the stress-free existence. She looked hassled and he could understand that if it was as busy every night of the week.

‘And might I ask what brings you to this lovely part of Ireland?’ She pushed open the door to one of the four rooms she rented out and stood back, allowing him to brush past her.

Leo took his time looking around him. It was small but clean. He would have to be sharp-witted when it came to avoiding the beams but it would do. He turned round to her and began removing his coat which he tossed onto the high-backed wooden chair by the dressing table.

Brianna took a step back. The room was small and he seemed to over-power it with his presence. She was treated to a full view of his muscular body now he was without his coat: black jeans, a black jumper and the sort of olive-brown complexion that told her that, somewhere along the line, there was a strain of exotic blood running through him.

‘You can ask,’ Leo agreed. Billionaire searching for his long-lost, feckless parent wasn’t going to cut it. One hint of that and it would be round the grapevine faster than he could pay her the deposit on the room; of that he was convinced. Checking his mother out was going to be an incognito exercise and he certainly wasn’t going to be ambushed by a pub owner with a loose tongue, however pretty she was.

‘But you’re not going to tell me. Fair enough.’ She shrugged. ‘If you want breakfast, it’s served between seven and eight. I run this place single-handed so I don’t have a great deal of time to wait on guests.’

‘Such a warm welcome.’

Brianna flushed and belatedly remembered that he was a paying guest and not another of the lads downstairs to whom she was allowed to give as good as she got. ‘I apologise if I seem rude, Mr...’

‘Leo.’

‘But I’m rushed off my feet at the moment and not in the best of moods. The bathroom is through there...’ She pointed in the direction of a white-washed door. ‘And there are tea-and coffee-making facilities.’ She backed towards the door, although she was finding it hard to tear her eyes away from his face.

If he brought to mind unhappy memories of Daniel Fluke, then it could be said that he was a decidedly more threatening version: bigger, better looking and without the readily charming patter, and that in itself somehow felt more dangerous. And she still had no idea what he was doing in this part of the world.

‘If you could settle the deposit on the room...’ She cleared her throat and watched in silence as he extracted a wad of notes from his wallet and handed her the required amount.