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Authors: Dawn Ryder

Filthy Rich

BOOK: Filthy Rich
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Copyright © 2015 by Dawn Ryder

Cover and internal design © 2015 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover designed by April Martinez

Cover image © Discovod/thinkstock.com

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Ryder, Dawn.

Filthy rich / Dawn Ryder.

pages ; cm

(trade paper : alk. paper)

I. Title.

PS3623.I6255F55 2015

813'.6–dc23

2014036339

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Chapter 1

“Admit it,” Sabra Donovan, very soon to become Sabra Nektosha, coaxed her companion. “It's perfect up here.”

Celeste toyed with the stem of her wineglass and looked over its rim at the expanse of Alaskan perfection that surrounded them. “Point taken. It's breathtaking.”

The testing and development cradle of Tarak Nektosha's all-terrain business was in a pristine setting. So was the house he'd built overlooking his entire operation. Huge floor-to-ceiling double-paned windows gave Celeste a bird's-eye view of the dozen huge warehouses where Tarak's line of monster vehicles was produced. The warehouses were surrounded by a test track, complete with viewing platform.

But what claimed Celeste's attention was the granite bowl surrounding everything. Sometime in the distant past, it had been carved out by a glacier. Now it was green with new grass and tall timber. Overhead, the sky was a majestic deep blue, looking close enough to reach up and touch. In the distance were glistening white glaciers.

“Pure paradise,” she added, to her friend's delight.

Sabra beamed. Celeste offered her a toast. “And you look happy.”

“Told you. There is nothing here not to love.”

“You did promise me that.” Celeste took another sip of her wine. “I'm planning on testing you, though. It's been ages since I took a vacation.”

She seemed to have picked the right spot to remedy that.

The main house was a mansion constructed of large timbers and offering even more floor-to-ceiling windows to let viewers take in the surrounding scenery. The air smelled clean and fresh, even if it had a bit of a chill, but that was also a slice of perfection for Celeste, since she'd just left the heat of the Southern California summer.

This was all good, given that a portion of her motivation for making the trip was to check up on Sabra.

Sabra was her best friend, so Celeste didn't plan to apologize for showing up to scope out the situation. Or for tucking an extra credit card into her purse in case they needed a couple of emergency plane tickets. That was the maid of honor's duty too—driver of the getaway van in the event of a change of heart. In the remote Alaskan wilderness, Celeste had recognized the need for a getaway plane.

But one look at Sabra, and Celeste knew that wasn't going to happen. Sabra was glowing, and not just about the amazing house her soon-to-be husband had built in the middle of the wilds of Alaska. No, Sabra's eyes sparkled with joy—true joy. The sight made Celeste realize how long it had been since she'd felt anything close to that sort of elation.

This vacation was definitely overdue.

Even if it was immeasurably sad to be so jaded. Celeste could only believe in love as something that blinded you to men's flaws while you were busy feeling deliriously happy.

“Jaded” was the word, alright. She took another sip from her wineglass and tried to let the flavor fill her senses and restore her faith in life. But the hard facts of her past remained unchanged.

Love had been nothing but a toxin for her, and that just seemed to be her piss-poor luck. So she smiled brighter to avoid being a killjoy while her best friend was in love. She was the maid of honor, after all.

Tarak Nektosha, the object of her friend's affection, was leaning against the kitchen counter on the other side of the room with his best friend, Nartan Lupan. Turning her attention back to the scenic view took more effort than it should have, but there was no way she was going to admit that she couldn't look away from Nartan.

She so wasn't going there.

Their first and only meeting was branded into her memory, which pissed her off. Nartan Lupan was everything she needed to stay away from. Tall, dark, and handsome, with the kind of money a gold digger would be willing to undergo plastic surgery to get her hands on. His kind understood their power too. They wielded it like a whip, expecting women to be their pets. They only wanted control in a relationship, not equality or partnership. No, Celeste would never again submit to that kind of subjugation.

You're accusing him without evidence…

Her inner voice had a point, one a lawyer would agree with.

She'd already admitted to herself that she was jaded. It was on her to-be-dealt-with list, emotional baggage she knew she needed to let go of if she was ever going to be truly happy. Even though she knew she would end up independent and taking care of herself, Celeste didn't ever want to turn bitter.

Things were going well, though. She was on her first real vacation since her divorce. Her boss was likely still in shock. Maybe it was time to really cut loose. She looked over at Nartan again but lost her nerve and looked back at the scenery.

One step at a time, she decided.

Chicken…

Yeah, but better safe than stuck in a relationship with a psycho.

Men with too much money tended to slip into that category all too often. Celeste looked back at Sabra, giving her friend another quick once-over just to make sure everything was good. Tarak Nektosha was loaded and a noted recluse.

But Sabra was swirling her wine around the inside of the glass, a perfect look of relaxation on her face.

“Told you the trip up here would be worth it,” Sabra crowed, glowing with her victory. “I find it so peaceful.”

“It's that.”

“But you're still worried about me,” Sabra said. “Don't be. I'm happy. You'll see. Tarak isn't like your ex-husband.”

A huge diamond flashed as Sabra moved her hand. She extended it so that Celeste got the full view of the three-plus-carat center stone.

“I thought it was too big at first, but it's growing on me.”

Celeste took a long sip of her wine to ease the knot that had formed in her belly. Sabra knew her too well and raised an eyebrow.

“Don't hate the diamond just because Caspian was a total prick about making you wear yours like an owner's label.” Sabra suddenly grinned in a very menacing way. “When is he due out of prison? I think I know just the right girl for him…”

Celeste gave a husky chuckle. “Thinking of setting up Anastasia?” She offered the name of Tarak's last girlfriend, who had done her best to scare Sabra off. “They might just deserve each other, but trust me, Caspian wouldn't go for someone who just took his shit.”

No, her ex-husband liked to break down his pets, crushing their spirit a little at a time to make the experience last longer. The harder the chase, the more he was interested.

Oh yes, she'd been a prized possession.

One of his favorite toys.

He'd courted her for two years, and she'd been stupid enough to think that meant he loved her. No, he was a collector and she had merely been a challenge.

Her insides chilled for a moment. She hated these echoes of being traumatized. She didn't want to live the rest of her life bitter, angry, and afraid. She knew how to defend herself now, and she was never going back. She had a bright future ahead of her. She told herself that again and again, but the wound was still healing. The moments when it reared its ugly head were less frequent now, but no less dismaying.

Yeah, the to-be-dealt-with list.

It was like a flashing sign that wasn't going away until she faced it. Master Lee often reminded her that martial arts training needed to be total and complete and more than just the physical body. True peace came from within.

But Sabra was looking at her suspiciously.

Celeste fluttered her eyelashes and wrinkled her nose, the way they'd both done when they were eight, and that was the perfect moment to change the subject. “It took all day to fly up here. My backside is numb.”

Celeste offered Sabra a grin to let her knew she was teasing, then forgot what she was thinking as someone cupped the right side of her bottom. She nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling around instantly to come face-to-face with the person she'd been spending a lot of time trying to avoid thinking about.

“Definitely not numb now,” Nartan Lupan observed as he reached out to take the wineglass away from her before she spilled the dark contents all over herself—or him.

Celeste automatically raised her opposite arm and adjusted her stance to keep him from claiming his prize. She was pleased with how her martial arts training had become almost instinctual, and she allowed herself a gloating smile.

But she was less than pleased to notice that his cobalt-blue eyes and coal-black hair were a stunning combination, with an added hint of boyish mischief that was almost endearing. Her eyes narrowed. That observation wasn't going to keep her from killing him. Sabra slid between them while her groom-to-be choked back something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

“Okay…” Sabra hooked Celeste's arm and tugged her away. “I think it's girl time.”

“More like pest-control time,” Celeste grumbled loudly enough for Nartan to hear as she fell into step with Sabra. He offered her a smug smirk that said he'd welcome any attempt on her part to bring him to heel. The hint of boyish playfulness melted and forged into something harder, something far more mature.

“Bring it,” he challenged her softly.

Sensation slithered through her belly, one she pointedly refused to name because she wasn't answering any challenge that concerned him.

“Don't get your hopes up.”

Because she wasn't going there. But a gleam entered his eyes that caught her attention. Sabra tugged on her wrist again.

Shit.

She turned around to follow her friend. Had she really just let the guy mesmerize her?

That was off-the-scale stupid.

She wouldn't be answering a challenge that rose up from inside herself. That was just nature's way of leading her into trouble, and she had no intention of being controlled by her hormones' reaction to a gorgeous hunk of ultra-alpha male—even if he was one of the most striking men she'd ever seen.

Even if he made her shiver for the first time in far too long.

There was something about the way he moved that made her think of an animal on the prowl. He kept his hair long enough to brush his collar, but it didn't strike her as messy like a teenager's, or overly styled like a metrosexual trying too hard to be something beyond a boardroom jockey. Instead, she discovered herself recognizing that he wasn't quite tame. He'd conquered the business world, but he was still Apache and proud of it.

The distrust that had sent her flying up to check on Sabra returned, only now it settled on a much more personal target. Money often translated into power for a man. A normal man wouldn't have reached out and touched her. Nartan was arrogant enough to think himself entitled to that kind of uninvited intimacy because he was master of his world.

Awareness rippled through her again, awakening urges she'd thought long dead. It was sort of a relief to discover herself emerging from the coma her failed marriage had left her in. But with another look at Nartan, she dismissed the idea of having anything further to do with him.

Really, it was a no-brainer.

Pure and simple, she outright rejected the notion. He was dominant and just waiting for her to show him she noticed, daring her really. It was there in the way he watched her. His focus was unnerving, which alone was a good reason not to have anything to do with him. Some women were foolish enough to think a man could change, that he'd settle down once he connected with the right girl. Stop playing games, become docile. She was no longer that naive.

Nartan's boldness hinted at what could be an impressive experience. But knowing she needed to let go of her reservations about men didn't mean she was getting anywhere near someone like him. There wasn't any inner peace connected with that blue-eyed Apache. He was a bundle of fire and ambition, and proud of it. For just a moment, she considered making an attempt to shove her fears aside. It wouldn't kill her to flirt with him. It might even be fun.

It
would
be
a
kick-ass ride and you know it…

Temptation was like rich food. It might taste divine, but you'd pay for it the next day when you looked in the mirror.

Still, she lost the battle to ignore him and sneaked another glance. For a moment their gazes fused, and she felt the connection like it was physical. Sensation rippled across her skin, awaking a thousand little nerve endings while her heart accelerated. His lips thinned, hunger darkening his eyes as the unmistakable glint of demand entered them.

He'd heat her to the melting point and mold her to suit his whims if she let him get too close. It was his nature.

So she wouldn't engage him. No, she'd had a taste of his elite world and didn't want another sample. Getting on with her life would require someone a little more run-of-the-mill. That might translate into boring, but it also could be defined as steady and reliable. Two things she was positive she needed for inner peace.

Still, she couldn't deny that the current between them left her breasts feeling heavy and her clit sensitive. Honestly, she didn't want to deny it. It was selfish of her, but she clutched the knowledge to her heart and enjoyed the evidence that she wasn't so scared. She pressed her tingling lips together and reached deep within for her self-discipline. She was going to condemn herself to disappointment. The reason was simple. If the man could affect her so strongly from just being near, she'd be helpless against her own desires once she was in his bed.

She wasn't going there. She didn't trust herself to make a wise judgment call.

And that was sad because it was going to cut her off from something that might have been mind-blowingly intense.

Completely pathetic.

***

“That was a little bold,” Tarak observed as his bride took Celeste off to explore the house.

“Couldn't resist.” Nartan slid onto a barstool in front of the marble-topped breakfast bar while Tarak tended a pan on the range top. “She's such a tempting little bundle. You can hardly blame me.”

BOOK: Filthy Rich
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