Chapter Four
THE AIRPORT WAS BUSY, but Beth got through security with minimal queuing.
After buying a coffee, she found herself a spot at the departure gate near a large, rowdy stag party.
She knew it would be more prudent to wait until she was home before making this call, but with Xavi’s kisses still fresh on her lips, she was fired up, almost buzzing with the desperate need to purge the tempest of emotion coursing through her.
With her fellow travellers giving the stag party a wide berth, no one would be close enough to hear her side of the conversation.
She dialled the number, put the phone to one ear and a finger to the other to drown out the background noise.
A male American voice answered. ‘Paul Haldron.’
‘Hi, Paul, it’s Beth Granger.’
A beat of silence.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘I’m familiar with the name.’
‘I’m Raul Belmonte’s granddaughter.’
Another beat of silence.
‘I’m his sole heir. Once probate’s dealt with, I’ll be the joint majority shareholder of the Rosbel Group.’
‘I did wonder if that would be the case,’ he said slowly. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Granger?’
‘Call me Beth, and it’s not so much what you can do for me but what I can do for you. I understand you spearheaded the recent attempt at a hostile takeover.’
More silence and then a cautious, ‘That’s in the past. Xavi de la Rosa fought it and won.’
‘He won because he had my grandfather’s shares in his pocket. Those shares now belong to me…well, they will once probate’s been granted. In a matter of months, they will be mine to do as I please, as will the rest of his estate, which I’m sure you must know is worth a lot of money.’
‘Okay…?’
‘How amenable would you be to selling your shares to me?’
He laughed.
‘Paul…may I call you Paul?’
He laughed again. ‘Sure.’
‘Paul, Xavi will never relinquish his control of the Rosbel Group. You can try again, as many times as you like, but you won’t win.
He will never let you win.’ And neither would she.
The Rosbel Group belonged to the de la Rosas and Belmontes.
She might not have her grandfather’s name, but she was the only Belmonte left.
Her grandfather and Ferdinand had built the company from nothing, and, having forced herself to think about it with rationality rather than emotion, she knew she couldn’t destroy their legacy and put it in the hands of strangers.
The only thing she wanted to destroy was Xavi.
‘Cut to the chase, Miss Granger.’
‘Beth,’ she corrected. ‘You can’t beat him, but I can. Name your price.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your shares. I want them, and I’m prepared to pay any price for them.’
The silence this time went on for so long that she thought he’d hung up on her.
‘You’re preparing your own takeover?’
She ignored the question. ‘You bought the shares as an investment fourteen years ago. Your investment has increased twelvefold. I’m prepared to pay more than the market price for them—I’m prepared to pay any price.
You’re a businessman, Paul. You invested in the Rosbel Group to make money.
Now’s the time to recoup that investment and make some serious money. Name your price.’
‘I’ll need to speak to my business partners,’ he said slowly.
Beth smiled. Fired up with hurt and pain after her 2 a.m. call with Xavi, she’d thrown herself into researching Paul Haldron.
His efforts to take over the Rosbel Group had cost him financially, and his other investments were performing poorly.
He couldn’t mount another hostile takeover attempt even if he wanted to.
‘You do that. Get back to me with a price—I trust you will approach this with discretion?’
‘Mom’s the word.’
‘Good, because for this to happen, not a word about it can leak.’
‘Understood.’
The call over, she blew out a long breath. The buzz that had taken her through that phone call—she’d channelled one of her favourite on-screen kick-ass female characters to get through it—was already plummeting, and she fought valiantly to recapture it.
Paul was interested, of that she was certain.
The first step towards Xavi’s destruction had been taken.
Four days later, Beth read Xavi’s message that had just pinged into her phone:
No budget. I’m in Paris and extremely busy. Please direct all messages during working hours that concern the wedding to Fenella. I will call you this evening when I’ve finished working to catch up. X
Her mouth tightened at his brush-off. The working day was done already. All she’d asked was the budget for her wedding dress.
She looked at all the boxes piled in her living room.
Xavi had sent a team over to assist in packing up her life.
If she wanted, she could fly back to Madrid right now.
Her boss had taken her resignation well—too well, really.
Beth had half expected pleas for her to change her mind, but nada.
As soon as she’d told him the date for the wedding, he’d told her not to worry about working her full contracted notice.
She had the feeling he’d have let her leave without working any of it, which was odd considering they didn’t have an obvious candidate to take her role.
He probably didn’t want to miss out on his wedding invitation.
She’d invited everyone she worked with. Let them enjoy the wedding of the century. After all, Xavi was paying for it all.
Oh yes, Xavi was paying for everything, and he was not holding back in the lavishing of his money.
It was only his time he refused to lavish.
He’d got her agreement to marry him, and now he was laying his marker and making sure to emphasise that their marriage would be nothing like their relationship of old.
The kiss at the end of his message had been a sop, a marker of intent that quelled much of the guilt that kept nibbling at her.
She was reading the message a third time when her phone rang in her hand.
‘Hey, Beth, Paul Haldron. I have good news for you.’
His next few words were lost in the sensation of white light flickering behind her eyes.
Forcing a long breath from her lungs, she casually said, ‘And the price you require?’
It was as outrageous and greedy as she’d anticipated, but she was in no mood to barter. She wanted this done. ‘Deal.’
‘I did wonder if the news about your marriage would mean a change of heart.’
So news of their marriage had reached America. Xavi had put out a press release the day before. Any moment and the press would discover her location and descend on her. Anticipating this, Xavi had already sent a team of ex-special forces to keep watch over her and keep her safe.
Her answer was a clipped, ‘Not at all.’
He gave a low chuckle. ‘Lady, you must really hate him to be playing him for such a sucker.’
‘My reasons are none of your business,’ she informed him coldly.
‘I’ll be in England for another week or so, and I want an agreement in principle before I return to Madrid for my wedding.
I imagine I’ll be in a position to complete the purchase within three months, and I want things arranged so the moment I give the go-ahead, the transfer is made immediately. ’
His laughter had a touch of patronising indulgence to it. ‘Do you know how the transfer of shares works, lady?’
‘I’m learning, but I do know how the power of money works, and if you want any of mine, you’ll keep your mouth shut about this conversation—if Xavi hears even a whisper of our plans before the transfer takes place, the deal will be off and your march to bankruptcy will carry on at the pace it’s currently travelling. ’
She ended the conversation without saying goodbye.
Her heart was racing manically.
The ball was now well and truly rolling. Very soon, she would roll it some more to hoover up enough of the smaller shares to make her the majority shareholder of the Rosbel Group.
She had another read of Xavi’s message and willed her heart to harden. Any feelings he held for her were secondary to his devotion to the business. He would dump her again in a heartbeat if he felt their relationship threatened his control of it in any way. She must never forget that.
Two weeks after she’d returned to England to pack up her life, Beth stepped out of Xavi’s private plane and strode through late-afternoon air so thick with heat it shimmered.
The driver and passenger of the familiar black SUV waiting for her both got out before she reached them.
The former started loading all her suitcases into the boot.
The latter, in faded jeans, brown boots and a snug white T-shirt that emphasised the muscularity of his impossibly tall, wiry physique, simply gazed at her from behind his shades.
Making no attempt to kiss or embrace her, his firm lips curved into a lazy smile. ‘Hola, mi vida. Good flight?’
Just to hear his voice was to make her heart, racing with anticipation at seeing him again from the moment she’d woken, thump harder.
The longer she’d spent away from him, the more fully he’d invaded her mind.
The wonderful memories of their six months together had fought with the awful memories of their sudden break-up and its aftermath, her resolve at what she was planning for him wrestling with guilt and doubt.
So exhausted had the constant thoughts and heightened emotions left her that she’d kept falling asleep hours earlier than she normally would, only for vivid dreams to keep springing her awake.
The dreams had all centred around him. The worst one had been just last night when she’d dreamed of walking into his old bedroom while he was sleeping.
Ellen had sat up beside him, naked just as she’d been in those vile nude pics she’d sent him all those years ago, smiling triumphantly at her, and Beth had realised it wasn’t Xavi’s bedroom but Ellen’s bedroom, not their bed he slept naked in but Ellen’s bed.
And then Ellen had morphed into the woman from the New Year’s party.