Tycoon's Delicious Debt

He reluctantly admired Serena’s composure. She didn’t jump or scream. She didn’t curl into a protective ball or push him away. Serena unflinchingly met his gaze as if she already knew what his next move was going to be.

He leaned in, so close to her that the tropical scent of her suntan lotion hit him in the back of his throat. “Tell me everything now,” he ordered. His voice was harsh as his anger started to slip but Serena obviously didn’t give a damn.

“I wish I could but I’m working right now.” She was such a princess, Cooper thought with disgust. A spoiled socialite who got whatever she wanted the minute the idea popped into her head. She thought the world revolved around her. Cooper fought the urge to grab her out of the chair and toss her into the ocean. “Serena, I swear…”

“You really have no choice in the matter.”

His fingers curled around the armrests until his knuckles whitened. “I always have a choice. What I don’t have is the time for this.”

“Time?” She scoffed at the word. “Cowboy, I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this moment. Of course, I thought it would be with your father, but you’ll do.”

He’ll do? He slowly released the armrests and rose to his full height. He needed to keep his distance before he followed his impulse and wrapped his hands around her slender neck. “I don’t know where you get the audacity…”

“We will discuss the details over dinner.” She waved her hand as if she were dismissing a servant. “It’s the only time I can fit you in but you may not have the stomach for all the gory details. It is Aaron Brock we’re talking about.”

He swore this woman had a death wish. He wouldn’t allow people to talk about his family that way, not even this temptress who had invaded his dreams. “My father is a respected businessman throughout the world. No one has a bad thing to say about him.”

“No one said a bad thing because they feared him,” she said. “I’m happy to tell you all that I know tonight.”

He wrestled with the unfamiliar sense of being backed into a corner. He wanted to claw his way out but he didn’t have enough information to fight with. Did she really know something or was this a fishing expedition for her? Cooper needed to find out what Serena knew. It required him to retreat, which was the most difficult thing to do in the middle of battle.

“I will meet you at the restaurant here at eight,” he said as he reluctantly took a step back. “If you run I will hunt you down.”

“Why would I run when I have everything I want?” she asked as he turned away.

Cooper kept walking as her earthy laugh rang in his ears. He only had a few hours to find out everything about how Aaron Brock had destroyed Serena Dominguez’s life. Dread seeped in his bones as he forced his legs to move. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his father had shown no mercy.

Serena watched Cooper Brock storm off, a dark and menacing figure surrounded by color and light. She slowly exhaled, her breath stuttering past her lips. The ice in her drink rattled and she gripped the glass tighter, refusing to give in to the case of nerves. Her stomach was still in knots and her skin felt cold. She shivered under the heat of the sun and refrained from rubbing her hands against her arms in case he looked back.

Serena’s tension didn’t evaporate once Cooper was out of view. If anything, his absence made her anxiety coil tighter around her chest. It would be best if she knew where he was at all times. She didn’t like surprises, especially those wrapped in a six-foot-three athletic male body.

She had planned on confronting Cooper but she hadn’t expected him so soon. News traveled fast and Cooper Brock worked even faster. He had caught her at a disadvantage but she had done her best to hide it. Her parents had taught her that image was everything and hiding what she really felt had become second nature to her.

Serena knew her image was that of a spoiled socialite. She allowed the media to perpetuate that myth. The world only saw the glittery jewelry, the standoffish sunglasses and the haughty smiles. It wasn’t who she was but it was her armor. She’d rather people see that than the fear and vulnerability that constantly rolled through her.

And the next time she met Cooper she wouldn’t be half-naked and lying down, Serena decided. She would take charge and wouldn’t let him trap her. Corner her. Next time she would meet him at eye level and stand toe to toe. And at the end of their meeting, she would walk away with a proud swagger.

She heard the buzz of her cell phone. Serena reached for it and saw how her hands still trembled. It was a good thing Cooper didn’t bother noticing the small details. If he had known that his sudden appearance left her unsettled, he would have ruthlessly used that to his advantage.

“Alô?” She managed a breezy tone as she answered the call.

“Serena?” she heard a man ask. The clipped British accent was nothing like Cooper Brock’s Southern drawl. “This is Spencer Chatsfield. I want an update.”

She pressed her lips together and swallowed back an irritated sigh. She didn’t appreciate Spencer checking up on her. He had seemed completely on board when she had presented him with this business opportunity but it felt as if he was having second thoughts. She had everything under control but she knew Spencer had a lot of money riding on this venture.

“It’s all going as planned,” she announced with supreme confidence. “This morning I won the bid for the Alves property with the money you gave me. I have already arranged a meeting with Cooper Brock and this evening I will make him an offer. He will agree and I will transfer the land to Cooper for the Harrington shares you want.” She couldn’t wait to present this deal to Cooper and see his expression. Watch the confidence drain from his silvery-gray eyes and be replaced with defeat.

“If the transaction was going to be that simple I would have done it myself. What if he refuses?”

She fully expected Cooper to refuse…at first. “He won’t because I have something he wants more,” she said with a sly smile. He wanted this more than the land. More than shares to The Harrington.

“He’s a Brock. Making deals is in his blood. He never loses.”

Serena took a healthy sip of her cocktail as she gathered the last of her patience. Cooper never lost because he had the Brock name backing him up. He didn’t know what it was like to make a deal in a position of fear, worried that he would lose everything in an instant. But she was going to change all that. She was going to reclaim her power by stripping him of his own.

“Spencer, we discussed this when I visited you in London,” she answered sweetly. Her feminine charm had distracted him then. It was her most successful technique to get what she wanted in the boardroom. “If you didn’t think I could negotiate with Cooper Brock, then you shouldn’t have fronted me the money.”

“If it all goes to plan, Brock gets his deal and I get the shares to The Harrington,” Spencer said. “What do you get? Why are you doing this?”

She knew what he was really asking. What am I missing? Apparently he no longer believed her explanation when she first proposed this idea. The reason she had given was admittedly weak, but she had couched her answer with the flirtatious smiles and body language that left men flummoxed. She wasn’t going to tell him the truth now no matter how much money he had invested in her plan. There was a lot he didn’t know and she was going to keep it that way.

“I hope this will show you my abilities for future projects,” she lied. “Anyone can gather information but no one can make the intuitive leaps and connections like me.”

“Serena,” he said in harsh tone, “if you don’t get the shares for The Harrington…”

“I have researched Cooper Brock for years,” she sharply reminded Spencer. “One could say I’m an expert on him and his father. You will get those shares by the end of the week.” She ended the call with an angry stab of her fingertip and tossed the phone onto the stack of business magazines lying next to her on the sand.

Serena lowered her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and determinedly stared at the crashing waves. The offensive attack on Cooper Brock was a new feeling for her. She didn’t like it because as much as she could predict the outcome, she was still putting herself at risk. Every action, every plan she made up to now, was defensive, protecting what she had.

She breathed in deep, her chest still tight as she inhaled the briny scent of the ocean. She knew what she was doing. Her strategy was solid. Indestructible. She wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—get in her way.

Anticipation fluttered just under her skin. After years of hard work, sacrifice and planning, she was finally ready to battle Cooper Brock. And by the end of the week, she would be the ultimate victor and get her revenge.

CHAPTER TWO (#u141c5484-ca84-508d-b50f-cec702796ea4)

SERENA’S HEELS CLICKED against the floor as she approached the restaurant, the staccato beat matching the jittery pulse at the base of her throat. She reached the dramatic rounded archway and caught a tantalizing whiff of grilled meat and exotic spices. Glancing inside, she found the stark-white walls and blue tile accents bright and welcoming. Serena noticed most of the tables were occupied and instantly recognized a few famous faces.

She smoothed a hand over her hair, wishing it hadn’t taken ages to tame the waves into a sleek ponytail. Her hands had been clumsy earlier when she had fixed her hair and makeup. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Everything was going as planned. She was in full armor now from her pink halter dress to her strappy stiletto heels.

She glanced down at the diamond bracelet encircling her wrist and paused. Memories crowded and overlapped in her mind. Some good, some bad. She remembered the day when her father had given the bracelet to her mother.

It had not been a special occasion. Her father never felt the need to wait for a celebration. He enjoyed presenting lavish gifts to her mother for no reason at all. She once thought these extravagant presents represented undying love. It was only when she was older that she’d realized there had been undercurrents of control and reward.

Serena remembered the surprise and pleasure in her mother’s glamorous face when she had opened the flat square box from her favorite jeweler’s. Serena also recalled the pride that shimmered from her father. The memory was so clear even after all these years because it was one of the last times she had seen those expressions from her parents.

Serena stood very still as she continued to stare at the bracelet. She remembered the defeat in her mother’s eyes when she had to sell the jewels after Felipe Dominguez’s business crumbled. At the time, Serena had silently sworn that one day she would have the money to buy back every piece of jewelry and return it to her mother.

It had taken her years and she had been so proud when she had hunted down this bracelet and bought it. She had taken it as a sign that their luck was changing for the better. Serena had presented it to her mother, promising to find the other jewels she had surrendered.

But her mother didn’t want them. In fact, Beatriz Dominguez had recoiled at the sight of the bracelet. The jewelry—and the memories that accompanied them—was tainted. The bracelet had represented a happier time, when the marriage between Felipe and Beatriz was solid and the family fortune was secure.

Serena rolled the bracelet around her wrist, accepting the sharp edges digging into her palm as she forced down the bitterness. Her mother may not want the jewels, but it had been important to Serena to keep them. They represented happier moments for her and her family. She had continued to track them down and buy them one piece at a time. She had not stopped in her mission until she had acquired every ring, necklace and hair ornament.

They were the only jewelry she owned. The only pieces she wore.

The bracelet was a talisman for her tonight. It served as a reminder of where she had been, what she had gone through and why she was doing this. It gave her focus to keep on this journey when the rest of her family wanted to forget.

“Boa noite, Senhora Dominguez,” the maître d’ welcomed her, his eyes lighting up with masculine pleasure. “Your guest is waiting for you at the bar.”