The Taming of Xander Sterne

‘I told you—I’m not embarrassed.’

Sam moved briskly across the room to drop down to her knees in front of Xander as she began to towel-dry the long length of his legs, taking care to gentle her movements on his injured leg, avoiding the several healing scars running the length of it.

‘Liar,’ he drawled.

Sam looked up at him sharply. ‘I think you have an overinflated opinion of your sexual prowess, Mr Sterne.’

‘Not recently, I don’t,’ he admitted.

The perfect opening … ‘I should have mentioned this to you before.’ Sam kept her head bent as she concentrated on drying his feet. ‘I don’t think … I would prefer it if, for the duration of our stay here, you didn’t …’ She began again. ‘I realise this is an imposition, but I’d prefer it if you refrained from bringing any women to your apartment while I’m here,’ she muttered.

He arched one blond and arrogant brow. ‘Are you going to make it worth my while?’

Sam blinked. ‘Sorry?’

He placed his hands on the bed behind him and leant back, emphasising the muscles of his shoulders and arms as he looked up at her challengingly. ‘What are you offering in exchange?’ he asked, and a smug grin spread across his face.

THE TWIN TYCOONS

Twin billionaire brothers—one dark and brooding, one

blond and charming—which would you choose?

Billionaire brothers Darius and Xander Sterne have it all—

power, wealth, and the world at their beck and call. Never

challenged, always triumphant—nothing is unattainable when you own the world, and they’ve enjoyed every indulgence their affluent status affords. Until now.

Because these twin tycoons are about to learn that there are

some things money and power can’t buy … And that the

greatest challenges net the most satisfying rewards.

Find out what happens in:

THE REDEMPTION OF DARIUS STERNE February 2015

THE TAMING OF XANDER STERNE March 2015

The Taming of Xander Sterne

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROLE MORTIMER was born and lives in the UK. She is married to Peter and they have six sons. She has written almost two hundred books since she started writing for Mills & Boon in 1978. She writes for the Mills & Boon^® Modern^™ and Historical romance lines. Carole is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author, and in 2012 was recognised by Queen Elizabeth II for her ‘outstanding contribution to literature’.

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

The Twin Tycoons

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘I APPRECIATE THAT you leave for your honeymoon at the end of the week, Darius, but I seriously do not need you to arrange for a live-in babysitter for me for the two weeks you’re away!’ Xander scowled at his twin brother across the sitting room of his London penthouse apartment.

‘It’s not a babysitter, just someone to help you with things you can’t do yet, like getting in and out of the shower, drying off and dressing, driving.’

‘We have a company driver who can do that.’

‘But there’s no one to help you with the rest of those things,’ his brother reasoned. ‘Or to cook for you.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Darius, it’s been six weeks since I broke my leg.’

‘In three places, requiring two operations to fix. You can’t even stand for longer than ten minutes at a time yet.’ Darius was obviously refusing to back down on this.

Xander eyed him moodily, knowing that everything his brother said was true. ‘This isn’t really about what I can or can’t do, is it?’ He finally sighed resignedly.

Darius stilled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is that I don’t have a death wish. Yes, I drove my car when I shouldn’t have, and yes, I ended up crashing into a lamppost and wrecking my car, but thankfully no one else was injured. But I didn’t do it deliberately, Darius. I told you at the time I was just so angry I couldn’t see straight. I was angry, Darius,’ he repeated harshly.

‘Everyone gets angry, Xander,’ Darius said softly.

‘My anger had been building for months.’

‘I know.’

Xander blinked. ‘You do?’

His twin nodded. ‘You were working and playing way too hard. It was as if you were trying to avoid something or someone.’

‘Lot of good that did me.’ If Xander had been capable of pacing the room at that moment, then he would have.

Six weeks ago, for the first time in his life, Xander had realised that he had a temper. Not the slow-burning temper of his brother, but a fiery hot volcano that had exploded out of control, resulting in Xander wanting to beat another man to within an inch of his life.

Admittedly that man had been loudly verbally abusing the woman who had arrived with him that night at the exclusive London nightclub owned by the Sterne brothers. It was a situation reminiscent of Xander’s childhood memories of the way in which his father had treated his mother.

But the desire to hit someone had shaken Xander to his core, to the point that he no longer trusted himself or his responses to situations; he had never wanted to hit anyone in his life before that night. Not even the father who had beaten him when he was a child.

Lomax Sterne had been dead for over twenty years now, after a fall down the stairs of the family’s London home whilst in a drunken stupor. A death that neither his wife nor his twin sons had mourned.

Lomax Sterne had been a brute of a man and a bully, with a temper to match.

And six weeks ago Xander had terrified the life out of himself by discovering that, at the age of thirty-three, he had the same temper.

‘What made you so tense in the first place, do you think?’ Darius looked at him curiously.

Xander grimaced. ‘I don’t know. Yes, I do.’ His brow cleared. ‘Do you remember when we were in Toronto four months ago? Remember the chairman of Bank’s Corporation? We went out to dinner with him and his wife.’

‘And he talked down to her all evening,’ Darius realised ruefully. ‘Which was the reason we both decided we didn’t want to do business with him. And the reason for your pent-up anger these past few months, I’m guessing?’

‘I think it is, yes,’ Xander agreed.

‘You controlled it then, Xander, and you controlled it six weeks ago,’ Darius insisted impatiently. ‘Just let it go. It’s over.’

Xander wished he could dismiss it as easily.

‘I really do appreciate your moving in here the past four weeks, Darius, but I just don’t think I’m up to having someone else, a stranger, living with me right now.’ In truth, Xander had been looking forward to having his apartment all to himself again.

He grimaced. ‘It’s not that I’m ungrateful, Darius. I just didn’t envisage the next two weeks of having to sit across the breakfast table every morning from the no doubt muscle-bound man, Sam Smith, who you’ve employed to act as both my nursemaid and watchdog while you’re away.’

Darius gave a chuckle. ‘It would certainly make the neighbours sit up and take notice, if they thought you were living with a man who isn’t your brother.’

As one of the billionaire Sterne twins, Xander had a playboy reputation with women that had long been catalogued, and speculated about, by the media. So yes, they would no doubt have a field day with the fact that he was sharing his apartment with a man.

‘Fortunately, for you, none of that is going to happen. Samantha Smith is a woman,’ Darius assured him dryly.

Xander sat forward. ‘Sam Smith is a woman!’

‘Nice to know that your hearing wasn’t affected in the accident,’ his twin taunted.

Darius had taken his own sweet time sharing that little nugget of information with him!

Xander scowled. ‘You don’t have to look so happy about leaving me completely at this woman’s mercy for the next two weeks!’

‘I’ll ask her to be gentle with you,’ Darius teased.

‘Very funny,’ Xander muttered distractedly; just the thought of having some strange woman staying here with him filled Xander with a sense of unease. ‘So how is it that you know this woman?’

Darius smiled. ‘She’s a friend of Miranda’s. She really likes her, so much so that she’s asked Sam to work at the dance studio with her part-time once we’re back from our honeymoon. Oh, and her little girl attends one of Miranda’s dance classes.’

‘Stop right there!’ Xander held up a silencing hand, breathing hard in his agitation. ‘You didn’t mention she had a child. What does she plan to do with her daughter while she’s staying here with me?’

‘She’s going to bring her with her, of course,’ his brother dismissed as if there had never been the possibility of anything else.

‘Are you completely insane?’ Xander exploded as he finally struggled up onto his feet with the help of his crutches. ‘Darius, I told you what happened to me at the nightclub six weeks ago. I told you how I lost control of myself, and now you want to bring some child to live with me? How old is Ms Smith’s daughter?’ He knew that Miranda’s ballet school was for pupils from five to sixteen years old.

‘Five, I think.’

‘You plan on allowing this woman to bring a five-year-old child to stay in my apartment with me?’ Xander breathed in deeply in an effort to calm himself. ‘This was Andy’s idea, wasn’t it?’ It was a statement, rather than a question. ‘You told her what happened to me and—’

‘You didn’t say I couldn’t.’ Darius’s eyes had narrowed in warning.

‘I don’t care whether or not you told Andy what happened to me that night,’ Xander dismissed impatiently. ‘After all, she’s going to be your wife and my sister-in-law. What I do care about is that Ms Smith and her daughter coming to stay here is most likely Andy’s way of trying to show me I’m not turning into the monster I think I am. A naive attempt on her part to make me feel better about myself.’

‘Careful, Xander,’ Darius warned softly.

Xander was too annoyed to heed that warning. ‘Life isn’t a fairy tale, Darius. Or, if it is, then I’m the monster in the story and not the prince!’

His brother gave Xander a considering look before speaking softly. ‘You know, Xander, as Miranda once told me, quite succinctly as I recall,’ Darius mused affectionately, ‘the whole of life isn’t about what you do or don’t want.’ He sobered. ‘Putting my mind at rest apart, has it even occurred to you that Samantha Smith is a single parent? And that, as such, she might need the money I’m paying her to come here and act as your babysitter and watchdog while I’m away?’

But what if the woman did something to set off the temper he had only just discovered? What if her daughter did? Darius wouldn’t find anything to laugh about then, would he? And Xander would never forgive himself if he lost his temper with either of them. That truly would make him the monster his father had been.

Darius scowled his displeasure. ‘Look, as far as I’m concerned Miranda vouches for her, and the woman needs the money I’m paying her to come and live here with you while we’re away. End of story.’

Xander didn’t agree.

Yes, this penthouse apartment was big enough for a dozen other people to share it with him without them falling over each other; besides the six en suite guest bedrooms there was a full gym, a home cinema, as well as two other reception rooms, a wood-panelled study, a large formal dining room and an even bigger kitchen.

But that really wasn’t the point, was it?

The point was that Xander didn’t want to share any of that space with a woman he didn’t even know, let alone her five-year-old daughter.

But what choice did he really have but to at least try? Darius had gone above and beyond brotherly love by moving into this apartment with him and taking care of him since Xander had come out of hospital four weeks ago.

Was it fair of him to now cause his brother any further worry while Darius and Miranda were away on their honeymoon?

Unfortunately, Xander already knew the answer to that question.

CHAPTER TWO

‘IS MR STERNE a nice man, Mummy?’ Daisy asked quietly as the two of them sat in the back of the limousine sent by Darius Sterne to collect them.

Was Xander Sterne a nice man?

Sam had only met the man once, during the interview she’d had with both Sterne brothers two days ago, while Daisy was at school.

Consequently, the question was a little difficult for Sam to answer, when Xander had left most of the talking that day to his brother. He’d only contributed to the conversation towards the end, when he had barked half a dozen questions at her about her daughter’s schooling, and the amount of time Daisy would actually be spending at his apartment.

Making it clear to Sam that, while her new employer might be willing to tolerate her own presence in his home for the next two weeks, he wasn’t in the least keen on having her daughter in residence as well.

An attitude that Sam wasn’t particularly happy about.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She hadn’t always been in such dire financial straits; her ex-husband, Malcolm, wasn’t anywhere near as wealthy as the Sterne brothers, but he was nevertheless a successful businessman who owned a mansion in London, plus a villa in the South of France and another in the Caribbean.

Sam had been twenty to Malcolm’s thirty-five, when the two of them had first met, she a lowly junior assistant and he the owner of the company. She had been instantly smitten with the suave and sophisticated, dark-haired and wealthy businessman, and apparently Malcolm had felt the same about her, so much so that within two months of meeting each other they had been married.

Sam had been starry-eyed and, to begin with, so much in love with her handsome and successful husband. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had been brought up in a series of foster homes. Her extended family was practically non-existent, with only a couple of distant maiden aunts whom she never saw.

However, Sam’s pregnancy had changed her marriage irrevocably.

She and Malcolm had never discussed having children—or rather, not having them in Malcolm’s case. It turned out that Malcolm didn’t want children cluttering up his life as she discovered only when she’d excitedly told him she was two months pregnant.

At the time Sam had convinced herself that it was just a knee-jerk response to the thought of becoming a father for the first time at the age of thirty-six. Malcolm couldn’t really have meant it when he suggested she terminate the pregnancy.

She had been wrong.

Their marriage had changed overnight, with Malcolm moving out of their bedroom, seemingly repulsed by the idea of Sam’s body undergoing a transformation as the pregnancy continued. Even then, however, Sam had naively hoped for the best, sure that her marriage couldn’t really be over after only a year, and that Malcolm would come around to the idea of fatherhood, either before or after the baby was born.

Again, she had been wrong.

Malcolm had remained in the spare bedroom, ignored her pregnancy totally, and he hadn’t so much as visited her once in the clinic after Daisy was born. He had even been absent from the house when she came home carrying Daisy proudly in her arms and took her up to the nursery she had spent so many hours lovingly decorating and preparing for her beautiful baby.

Sam had struggled on for another two years trying to make her marriage work, sure that Malcolm couldn’t continue to ignore his daughter’s existence for ever. How could he not fall in love with his adorable baby daughter?

Except he hadn’t.

At the end of that two years of struggle Sam had admitted defeat. Not only did she no longer love Malcolm, she wasn’t sure she even liked him. How could she like a man who refused to acknowledge his own wife and daughter?

The past three years certainly hadn’t been easy ones. Emotionally or financially.

Her emotions and how she dealt with them were Sam’s own problem, of course. But how could a billionaire like Xander Sterne possibly understand how she had to scrape the money together, basically by going without lunches all week herself, just to be able to pay for something so trivial as Daisy’s ballet lesson once a week? Something her daughter had talked of almost since she could walk and talk, and which Sam refused to disappoint her over.

Of course Malcolm, when Sam asked, had refused to contribute in the slightest to Daisy’s happiness, over and above the minimum childcare payment paid into Sam’s bank account once a month. An account set up in the name of Samantha Smith rather than her married name of Samantha Howard.

Her married name, along with the gifts and jewellery Malcolm had given her during their marriage, and any settlement she might have expected as Malcolm’s ex-wife, either in a lump sum or monthly payment, were all things Sam had been asked to give up in exchange for Malcolm agreeing to give her full custody of her beloved daughter. A price Sam had willingly paid. And would willingly pay again, if she had to.

Xander, a man who owned and ran successful businesses globally with his twin brother, couldn’t possibly understand how difficult it was for a single mother to even find a job, let alone one that necessarily fitted in with the hours Daisy spent at school. Waitressing at lunchtimes had been one of Sam’s only options since Daisy started school the previous September, and even that became a nightmare when the school holidays came around. As they invariably did.

That last problem was going to be solved in two weeks’ time, though, by her new job at Andy’s ballet studio. In the meantime, this two weeks of looking after Mr Sterne would allow her to pay her electricity and gas bills.

Even so, it was mainly out of gratitude to Andy that Sam was now on her way to spend two weeks in the home of a man she had only met once, and whom she wasn’t in the least comfortable being around. He hadn’t exactly been outright rude to her, but he hadn’t exactly been polite either.

So, was her new employer a nice man?

Quite honestly, she had no idea.

Oh, there was no doubting that he was fiercely masculine, with his wide and muscled shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and long legs. His hair was a tousled and overlong gold, and his eyes were a dark and piercing brown in his tanned and chiselled face; nose long and straight between sharply etched cheekbones, his mouth full and sensual, with the top lip fuller than the bottom above a square and determined jaw. As an indication of a sensual nature?

Well, probably not the latter for the past six weeks, since his car accident had resulted in a badly broken leg and basically kept him as being almost a recluse in his own apartment.

Although that obviously wouldn’t have prevented women from visiting him at home!

It was something Sam hadn’t thought of until now, but the bedroom exploits of billionaire Xander Sterne had been making the headlines in the newspapers and glossy magazines for more years than Sam cared to contemplate.

And the women photographed draped on his arm, at film festivals and other celebrity events, were always beautiful, always single, and always long-legged and oozing sex appeal.

‘Mummy?’ Daisy’s curious tone reminded Sam that she hadn’t yet answered her daughter.

She turned to give her daughter a beaming smile. ‘Mr Sterne is a very nice man, darling.’ She avoided so much as glancing in the direction of the chauffeur sitting in the front of the car—just in case she should happen to catch his sceptical gaze in the rear-view mirror as confirmation of her misgivings.

Because nice was hardly a word anyone would use to describe Xander. Dynamic. Arrogant. Lethally attractive. But nice? Not so much.

‘Will he like me, do you think?’ Daisy added anxiously.

It was her daughter’s anxiety that made Sam’s mouth tighten. It was a legacy of all these years of Malcolm’s total lack of interest in his young child and an uncertainty that had resulted in Daisy being nervous around all men.

‘Of course he’ll like you, poppet.’ Sam would rip the arrogant Xander Sterne to shreds if he did or said anything to hurt her already vulnerable daughter. ‘Now, did you remember to pack teddy in your bag?’ She deliberately changed the subject; there was really no reason to worry Daisy when she, herself, was already nervous enough for the both of them.

* * *

Xander didn’t exactly pace the hallways of his apartment so much as clomp inelegantly up and down them on his crutches, as he waited impatiently for the arrival of Samantha Smith and her young daughter.

Xander had to admit to being a little surprised by Sam’s appearance when she’d arrived at his apartment on Wednesday morning, so much so that he hadn’t been able to so much as speak for most of the interview, but had instead left Darius to do all the talking.

For one thing, she must have been a child bride, because she didn’t look as if she could be any older than her early twenties, certainly not old enough to be the mother of a five-year-old.

For another, she was very tiny, maybe a dot over five feet tall, and almost as slender as his future sister-in-law. Although the weary shadows about her arresting amethyst-coloured eyes, and the hollows in her pale cheeks, looked as if she owed her slenderness more to a lack of eating rather than the hours of dance practice that Miranda enjoyed.

Those unusual amethyst-coloured eyes weren’t the only arresting thing about Ms Smith’s face; she also had high cheekbones, with a smattering of freckles over those hollow cheeks and bridge of her pert little nose, and a full and sensual mouth. Her hair, brushed back from her face and secured at her crown but still long enough to fall silkily to mid-way down her back, was a deep and vivid red colour. And surely indicative of a fiery nature?

If it was, then Xander had seen little of that fire during that half-hour interview two days ago. Instead, the woman had spoken quietly in answer to first Darius’s questions, and then his own, her long dark lashes lowered as she barely glanced at him long enough for him to enjoy those unusual amethyst eyes.

Maybe she was shy, or maybe she just didn’t approve of or like playboy billionaires, but was willing to put up with him for the sake of the large amount of money Darius was paying her? His brother had preferred to attribute her quietness to nervousness at being the focus of the attention of both Sterne brothers.

Which was highly possible, Xander accepted ruefully; Darius on his own or Xander on his own could be intimidating enough, but put the two of them together...

Whatever the reason for her introspection on Wednesday, Xander was only willing to put up with her mouse-like company long enough for Darius and Miranda to enjoy their wedding and honeymoon, and not a moment longer.

So where the hell was she? Paul had left to collect the woman and her daughter over an hour ago. It was not an auspicious start to her employment here, if she hadn’t even been ready to leave at the agreed time.

Xander needed to talk to Ms Smith as soon as she arrived, and make it very clear from the onset what he would or would not tolerate from her young daughter. He already had a mental list of rules prepared.

No running up and down the hallways of his apartment.

No shouting or screaming.

No loud television programmes, especially in the mornings.

No going anywhere near his bedroom suite.

And absolutely no touching any of his artwork or personal things.

In fact, Xander would prefer it if he wasn’t even made aware of the child’s presence in his apartment. Was that even possible with a five-year-old?

It would have to be. Ms Smith and her daughter weren’t his guests but employees, and Xander expected her, and her daughter, to behave accordingly.

‘Oh, look, Mummy, have you ever seen such a big television?’

Xander barely had a chance to register the presence of the woman and her young daughter, after the doors opened to his private lift, before a small red-haired whirlwind rushed past him down the hallway in the direction of the open door to the home cinema. She clipped his elbow as she passed, which knocked him off balance. Enough so that Xander felt himself falling.

Sam’s stricken gaze followed her daughter’s headlong flight down the carpeted hallway with all the horrified fascination of someone watching an unstoppable train wreck.

She closed her eyes with a wince as Daisy rushed past an open-mouthed Xander Sterne, opening them again just in time to see him swaying unsteadily on his feet.

Yep, definitely a train wreck!

Sam quickly dropped her shoulder bag onto the floor in order to run down the hallway, reaching Xander Sterne’s side just in time to put a supportive shoulder underneath his arm to prevent him from toppling over completely.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, Xander weighed probably twice as much as she did. So that when he overbalanced completely he took Sam down with him, both of them ending up on the floor, the fall slightly cushioned by the thick carpet but still eliciting a grunt from Xander Sterne as he landed on his back, Sam sprawled inelegantly across him, her denim-clad legs entangled with his much longer ones.

This wasn’t just a train wreck, it was a disaster!

‘Well, that’s rule number one already null and void!’ he muttered through gritted teeth.

‘Sorry?’ Sam raised her head to look down at him.

‘Why are you and Mr Sterne lying on the floor, Mummy?’ a bewildered Daisy enquired curiously as she wandered back down the hallway to look down at them.

‘Will you tell her or shall I?’ Xander Sterne’s chest —his very muscled chest beneath another fitted black T-shirt—moved beneath Sam’s breasts as he bit the words out.

Sam felt the colour warming her cheeks as she realised her eyes were just inches away from the censorious brown ones now glaring up at her, and that her boss’s chiselled features were twisted in displeasure.

Or perhaps it was pain he was exhibiting rather than censure?

Daisy had just succeeded in knocking this man over when he was still recovering from a broken leg, the very reason that she and Daisy were in his apartment in the first place.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Sam mumbled as she moved carefully, to avoid hurting Xander further, lifting herself up and away from him before standing up. She wondered whether she ought to answer her daughter first or help him back up onto his feet.

She decided to do both as she noted that his face had paled in the last few minutes.

‘We fell over, darling,’ she answered Daisy distractedly as she went back down onto her knees beside Xander. ‘Should I call your doctor before you attempt to get up, do you think?’ she prompted worriedly as he began to roll onto his right side—the side with the leg that wasn’t broken—with the obvious intention of attempting to get back up onto his feet.

Xander turned to give her a cold stare, knowing it was his dignity that was injured more than his leg. Four weeks of hobbling around on crutches hadn’t exactly been good for his ego, and now he had to deal with the fact that he had been knocked off his feet by a child.

Although it hadn’t been all bad, Xander acknowledged grudgingly as he reached for his crutches to help him to his feet; Ms Smith might be a tiny little thing, and her build a bit too much on the slender side for his normal taste, but what little of her there was was completely feminine. A fact his body had definitely responded to as she lay sprawled on top of him. Her body had felt incredibly soft, and she’d smelt of flowers.

It was good to know, after six weeks without sex, that at least that part of him was still in working order, even if the rest of him was still shot to hell.

Even if it was an entirely inappropriate response to the woman being paid to share his apartment for the next two weeks.

‘I don’t need a doctor to know that the only part of me that’s bruised is my ego!’ Xander answered her more harshly than he had intended. Slightly regretting that harshness as she appeared to recoil and withdraw into herself.

What had she expected? That he was just going to laugh it off as childish exuberance?

Damn it, she and her daughter had only just arrived; he hadn’t even had chance as yet for the talk about rules regarding her daughter’s behaviour.

‘Ah, just in the nick of time,’ Xander muttered as the lift doors opened a second time and Paul stepped out carrying several bags, obviously the mother and daughter’s luggage. ‘Paul can help me get up, if you would like to take your daughter with you into the kitchen and make a pot of tea,’ he bit out.

Sam knew it was an order rather than a request, and a means of getting she and Daisy out of the way.

And who could blame the man? He had already suffered the indignity of being knocked off his feet; he didn’t need the further embarrassment of having to be helped back up in front of an audience.