Reckless Hearts (Blackwood Billionaires (Blackwood Legacy) #3)

1. CHRIS

1

CHRIS

T he Blackwood jet touched down smoothly on the tarmac of Nice C?te d’Azur Airport, the Mediterranean sun casting a golden glow over everything it touched. Shit just looked different out here.

Magical.

The descent into the airport had given us an incredible view of the coast, the azure sea sparkling beneath us, and it was a thrill to be back on this playground for the rich and powerful.

Alex sat next to me, deeply engrossed in his phone.

“They’re gonna be fine without you, man,” I said. “You know this isn’t the first time you’re leaving them.”

“Yeah, but not this long,” Alex grumbled.

Charlotte, his wife, and his little boy Tommy were Alex’s world. He’d gone from a standoffish grump who didn’t want anything to do with anything if it wasn’t about building up Blackwood Incorporated.

And then Charlotte had changed his whole life.

Now, they were his number one priority.

It was good for him. I wished that for him—a life where he could find some happiness.

But that family shit just wasn’t for me. I was happy for my brother that he’d found his spot, but I was single and ready to fucking mingle.

We were going to be in Monaco for a month, enjoying the scenery building up to the annual yacht show, and we’d decided to lay the groundwork as early as possible.

The work behind the scenes was a lot more than the success the rest of the world saw.

I nudged him when he was back on his phone, forcing him to look up. “You know, you could at least pretend you’re excited to be here.”

He glanced at me with his businessman facade but a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “I’m excited. I just don’t need to act like a tourist to prove it.” He cocked his head. “Or a playboy.”

I barked a laugh. “You know what it was like, going on the hunt, finding your next release. It’s the measure of a man.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “If that’s what you measure yourself by, you’re in trouble, bro. There’s more to life than making money and fucking around.”

“Yeah?” I chuckled. “Like what?”

Alex laughed. “I know you’re all against family and love and all that shit, but I also know that under that suit of armor your heart is as much flesh as mine, and it pumps blood. I know under all that ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude you can feel. ”

I grinned. “Your everlasting faith in me is adorable.”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “You still have growing up to do.”

“We’re the same age!”

He laughed again and turned his eyes toward the plane’s window, finally taking in the sights all around us.

Alex, my other brothers Ben and Daniel, and I were all adopted. We were all roughly the same age, but we’d grown up together in the Blackwood household for almost as long as we could remember, and as it was with boys, there was always a hierarchy.

A shifting one because no one settled for one of us being more alpha than the other.

But a hierarchy, nonetheless.

“Well, here you’re not a family man, so we’re going to party.”

“I’m here to work, not to play,” Alex said, his eyes drifting to his phone again.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should try it sometime,” I shot back, grinning as I unbuckled my seat belt. “We’ve got a month before the yacht show. Loosen up.”

We disembarked, and the warm Monaco breeze wrapped around us as we stepped onto the tarmac. The airport staff were quick to attend to us, leading us to the waiting SUV with the best efficiency and politeness money could buy. You only found it in a place like this. The blacked-out vehicle stood ready, and as we climbed inside, the driver offered a polite nod before pulling away from the terminal.

“I always forget how stunning this place is,” Alex said, looking through the tinted window when we wound our way along the coastal roads, the beauty of Monaco unfolding before us. The dramatic cliffs rose above the deep blue sea, the elegant buildings of Monte Carlo gleaming in the sunlight.

Port Hercules was our destination. It was a glittering jewel at the heart of it all. The marina was already dotted with a few superyachts gearing up for the yacht show, each one more extravagant than the last. As time drew closer to the event, the marina would fill up and there would be spectacular yachts everywhere. Though none could hold a candle to the masterpiece we’d be unveiling in a month’s time—I’d been working on the design for our latest and greatest for a while now, giving it all the expertise and Blackwood Magic I had.

“Jesus,” I muttered, my eyes taking in the scene. “This place never gets old.”

Alex nodded, his gaze equally appreciative. “No, it doesn’t. And it is good to be back.”

The SUV slowed as we approached the H?tel de Paris Monte-Carlo, rising before us in all its marble and gold glory. This place was a second home to us—we came to stay here every time we didn’t have a yacht to live on—and the staff were as familiar as the staff back home. The familiarity of it all set me at ease. The doormen greeted us with respectful nods as we walked through, and we smiled in return.

Inside, the hotel was just as opulent as ever. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the marble floors gleamed under the soft light. At the reception desk, we were greeted with the same efficiency. Check-in was quick, and we headed up to our suite.

“Penthouse?” I asked Alex.

“What else?”

I chuckled. “I thought it might be booked out months in advance.”

“It was. Because I booked it months in advance.”

I laughed. “Nice.”

“You gotta play the game right, you know? We do this every year. They might as well open a retainer option for us.”

We walked into the penthouse suite, and I admired the luxury around us. I was used to opulence and grandeur but Monaco knew how to kick it up a notch.

The suite was enormous, with plush sofas, a grand piano in the corner that none of us could play, and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the marina of Port Hercules below. The Mediterranean stretched out into the distance, impossibly blue with a gentle swell that made the yachts bob and nod in the marina.

“Not bad,” Alex said, setting his bag down on one of the chairs.

“Not bad?” I laughed, tossing my own bag onto the sofa and sprawling out next to it. “Come on, man. A whole month of this before the madness begins. We’re living the fucking dream.”

Alex walked to the minibar and poured us both a drink—Glendronach 21-Year-Old, a bottle of scotch we’d both come to appreciate over the years. It was a rich Highland single malt with deep notes of dark chocolate and spiced fruit, the kind that lingered on your palate like a promise.

He handed me a glass, and we clinked them together, savoring the first sip as the warmth spread through our chests.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” I already knew where I wanted to go. Maybe I could drag Alex along.

“I was thinking about getting a head start on some work,” Alex replied, swirling his drink in the glass. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for.”

I groaned, leaning back into the cushions. “Come on, man. It’s our first night in Monaco. Work can wait. Let’s go out, hit up a few spots, see what the night has in store.” I took another sip.

He shot me a look that said he wasn’t having it. “I don’t party anymore. You know that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not asking you to pick up a chick or anything. Just come drink with me. Paint the town red, you know? Like old times.”

Alex smiled, but he shook his head. “You go ahead. I’ve got things to take care of.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re seriously no fun, you know that?”

He chuckled, but his expression didn’t change. “Someone has to keep this operation running smoothly. You go enjoy yourself but try not to make too much of a mess.”

“Me? Make a mess?” I smirked, finishing off my drink. “Never.”

I could see he wasn’t going to budge, so I pushed myself off the sofa, leaving my empty glass on the table. “Fine, I’ll go solo. But don’t come crying to me when you realize you missed out on all the fun.”

“Pretty sure I’ll survive,” he replied, another rare smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes were already back on his phone.

With a final shake of my head, I grabbed my leather jacket and headed for the door. I could have fun on my own. I wouldn’t be alone for long, anyway. If there was one thing I didn’t lack, it was attention from the ladies, and tonight, that was what I was looking for. Someone to help me break in the month we stayed here, to take the edge off, to warm my sheets for a night.

I rubbed my chest. When I was with these girls, it always felt empty and hollow. That was why I never bothered pursuing them. I always made it clear it was just one night of fun. The Blackwood name and reputation would only be theirs for a short while they shouldn’t get their hopes up.

If I could find someone to fill the gaping hole inside of me, that would have been fucking fantastic.

But a tear in a heart couldn’t be fixed, I realized, and my heart had been dribbling with difficulty ever since Bella.

Fuck.

Why did I have to think about her? How many years had it been? Easily a decade.

They say time heals all wounds, but whoever they are, they were fucking wrong. Time doesn’t heal wounds, it just teaches you to live with it and stop bitching about it.

I shoved the thought of Bella out of my mind.

The streets of Monte Carlo buzzed with energy, the warm Mediterranean breeze carrying with it the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from the nearby bars and restaurants.

The city was a maze of narrow streets and hidden alleys, filled with different adventures and darker secrets. There were all kinds of people out here—those who were honest and open and those who were shady as fuck. They all had one thing in common: money.

I wandered through the cobbled streets, my eyes scanning the crowds. The excitement around me was like a pulse and it wasn’t long before I found a bar tucked away from the main drag. Its warm glow spilled onto the street. It was the kind of place where the rich and powerful came to let loose, with tasteful décor and music I could appreciate, the alcohol exclusive, and the staff discreet when they needed to be.

The bartender gave me a nod as I walked to the counter.

“Mr. Blackwood,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Good to be back, Tony. It’s busier than I thought it would be.”

“The yacht show draws tourists earlier and earlier each year,” Tony said with a nod. “But we don’t complain. It’s good for business, and business is good for the yacht show.”

“Indeed,” I said. “Negroni, but make it with barrel-aged gin and a splash of blood orange bitters.”

“Ah, classic with a twist.” Tony was already reaching for the ingredients. “Adventurous as always, sir.”

I chuckled. “What’s life without a little adventure?”

“Dull, I would imagine.”

I nodded, looking around the bar. It was filled with a few patrons already, faces I was sure I would see around more often during the month and during the event.

There were some familiar faces, too. People I’d brushed shoulders with or done business with. I nodded at them when our eyes met, and they nodded in return.

It was a silent acknowledgment. The superyacht world wasn’t a very big one and at some point, everyone knew everyone in the business.

My gaze drifted toward the end of the bar I leaned on while I waited for Tony to finish my drink.

And then I saw her.

Isabella Rossi.

As if my thoughts of her had conjured her up. Think of the devil, and she will appear? Apparently so.

My heart skipped a beat, and my throat felt tighter. She sat at the far end of the bar, a half-empty glass of wine in front of her, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders in soft waves, and I wasn’t sure if she was real. But I hadn’t started drinking yet, and I sure as shit hadn’t taken anything else.

She had to be real.

The past back to hit me like a freight train.

She looked down at her glass, deep in thought, but I knew the intensity of those eyes without her looking at me.

Those eyes had haunted me for a decade.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Of all the people I could run into tonight, it had to be her. What the hell was she doing here? And why was she wreaking havoc on me and I haven’t even talked to her?

Her mere presence was enough to make me fumble. Me, Chris Fucking Blackwood, who always had the charm of a salesman who could talk anyone into a business deal. Around her, my brain turned to mush and I wasn’t as smooth as I could be.

Bella looked up. She must have felt my eyes on her. Probably because I was staring at her like an idiot.

No, gawking.

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me, but other than that she wore a poker face.

She didn’t look nearly as ruffled seeing me as I felt seeing her.

Her deep eyes drew me in.

Don’t go over there , I commanded myself. Just drink your drink. Find another woman. There are so many around.

Tony put my drink in front of me, and I turned and walked to Bella. There were plenty of other women around, but all I could see was her.

Damn it, she was like a magnet, and I couldn’t resist. I was a moth to her flame and I knew from experience that it could burn me alive.

She was a vision, and I was Icarus, who’d already flown too close to the sun.

What was it they said about the past repeating itself? Clearly, I didn’t learn from my mistakes.

When I reached her, her eyes were guarded, her perfect lips pursed together.

“Chris Blackwood,” she said, her voice cool and controlled. I shivered at the sound of it, still a little husky. “What a coincidence.”

“Bella,” I replied, sliding onto the barstool next to her. I sounded calm and controlled. Nice, Blackwood. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Understatement of the century.

She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving mine. “And yet, here we are. The world has a funny way of being too small, huh?”

“There’s enough space in this town for the two of us.”

“Hmm.” She took another sip of her wine and her eyes were almost hypnotic over the rim of her glass. I swallowed, and a shiver ran down my spine, punching right into my cock.

“It’s been a long time,” I said smoothly.

“Yeah, it has.”

Not long enough to forget about her.

“So, what are you doing here?” I finally asked.

The last time I’d seen Bella, she’d been working in the middle-class sector, something to do with public relations, or management, or something.

I felt like a dick for not remembering exactly what. But in my defense, I’d worked very hard to forget about her.

“I’m here for work,” Bella said, and put her glass on the counter, tilting her head as she glanced at it. Her brown hair fell over one shoulder, and the other was bare and smooth, with only the red strap of her dress.

I wanted to run my hand along her shoulder, feel her skin beneath my fingers. I wanted to kiss it.

“I guess that’s what most people come here for this time of year.” I looked at her. She’d changed. She’d grown up in the last decade. Her face was slimmer, her body more accentuated and she wore the softness of a woman now. Her body was still built like an hourglass, but holy shit, something about her was even more incredible than it had been back then.

And there had been a time when she’d been my everything.

“Do you remember when we used to get your brother to buy us alcohol?” I asked with a grin, going back to the past. I just couldn’t help myself. You’re in trouble, Blackwood.

“You could have gotten it yourself, you can get anything you want,” Bella said. A smile tugged at her lips but her words were sharp, too.

“Where was the fun in that?” I countered. “The adventure is in doing something you’re not allowed to do.”

Bella smiled, sliding a finger down the stem of her glass.

“You’re the only person I know who has everything and yearns for a life where he doesn’t.”

“That’s not exactly how it is.” I loved having everything. Well… nearly everything.

I didn’t have her.

“But you do wish you were someone else.” She looked up at me, her eyes boring into my soul, and it suddenly pissed me off.

“What would you know about it?”

Bella frowned and the tension shifted between us, crackling with my frustration. “We were together long enough that I know you, Chris.”

“That was ages ago. People change.”

“So, you’re happy with who you are?”

“Yes!” It sounded too defensive.

She shook her head like she didn’t believe me. “Well, if you’re happy with who you are and what you’ve got, then I guess some things do change. Contrary to popular belief.” She tightened her fingers around the stem of her glass, the only sign she was frustrated, too. Her poker face was frustrating. And hot as fuck—made me want to do the work to dig for a reaction.

“And some stay exactly the same,” I clapped back.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re so damn sure you know me, but you have no idea.” I folded my arms over my chest and stepped a little closer. People were starting to notice our fight, but I didn’t give a shit. They could think what they wanted.

How had we ended up fighting, anyway? My head spun and I’d barely had any alcohol. Bella was a drug.

She shook her head. “I would know you better if you actually opened up, Chris. I tried. I tried so damn hard, but you pushed me away.”

I bristled. “Don’t you dare bring that up. I’m not the one in the wrong here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So, you’re telling me you were right to leave me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I’m not,” she said, standing so that she was inches away from me. Her eyes spat fire and her lips were parted, and fuck, she was beautiful. The anger that danced between us only seemed to make her hotter. Her cheeks were flush and that spark, that feistiness that had drawn me the first time, was still there.

“I’m just saying it as it is.”

I gritted my teeth. I was furious, the electricity between us dancing on my skin and at the same time… my cock was rock hard. I wanted Bella now more than I ever had. It was as if the past decade hadn’t done shit. I’d failed spectacularly in my attempt to convince myself I felt nothing for her. I was still drawn to her as ever.

Maybe even more because where she used to be cute in a girly way, she was now a force to be reckoned with and that rattled me on a whole new level.

I wanted her. So. Badly.

My eyes slid to her lips, and her breath caught in her throat. The atmosphere shifted between us, becoming thick and charged, and this time, it wasn’t with anger.

“Chris,” she said, but she didn’t follow up with anything else.

“What?”

“Some things are better left in the past. I’m not going to dredge up old wounds.” Her mouth said one thing, but her eyes said another, and despite the fury that flashed behind her eyes, she leaned in, closing the distance between us until she was so close a sigh could press us together.

“Bella,” I said. “This doesn’t have to be that.” My body screamed at me. I ached for her. It had been so long since I’d touched her, felt her, been buried inside of her and I felt like I was parched, so fucking thirsty I needed her.

I reached out, my hand brushing against hers, and she didn’t pull away. The touch was electric.

“It’s not that simple,” she said.

“No. It’s not.”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her eyes locked on mine.

“This is a bad idea,” she said, though she didn’t pull away.

“It is.” I leaned in closer, my voice low and rough. “But you know me. The fun is in doing something that’s not allowed.”

She rolled her eyes at me again, but the tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers.

She moaned at the back of her throat, and she pressed the length of her body against mine, parting her lips. I slipped my tongue between them, reached up and tangled my fingers in her hair.

“Fuck, Bella,” I muttered against her lips.

She kissed me back, her response just as hungry.

“Where are you staying?”

“Hotel Novotel,” she breathed.

“Let’s go.”

I took her hand, nodded at the bartender to put her drink and mine on my tab, and led her out of the bar.

It was reckless, it was stupid, and it was inevitable.