The Billionaire Affair Read Online Free Page A

Caroline rose, smoothed down her skirt and collected her bag. Back to business, she asked, ‘Do you know whether or not he intends to dispose of anything of value?’ There had been some lovely things she remembered. Although if her father had been in financial difficulty he might have sold them.
    â€˜From what I could gather he aims to keep the best in situ . It will be up to you to report on what could be kept as an investment.’ He began to shuffle the small pile of papers, a clear indication that her presence was no longer required.
    Caroline left, wondering why the unknown details of Dexter’s private life were like a burning ache in the forefront of her mind.
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    That Langley Hayes was in the process of restoration was not in doubt, Caroline thought as the driver parked the Lexus on the sweep of gravel in front of the main door. Scaffolding festooned the early-Georgian façade. The parkland through which they’d approached the house—unkempt in her own recollection—had been smoothly manicured and, in the middle distance, she’d seen two men working with a theodolite.
    Surveying the land for the golf course? The clubhouse? The—what was it—leisure centre? Whatever, it was no longer any concern of hers. Her life here, largely lonely, hadn’t been a bed of roses. She felt no pangs of nostalgia or loss. Only that nagging internal anxiety—would Dexter be here?
    â€˜A lot of work in progress,’ she remarked, as she stood on the forecourt in the warm April sun as the driver opened the boot to collect her baggage, saying the first thing that came to mind to smother all those uncharacteristic internal flutterings.
    â€˜Mostly finished on the main house,’ he answered, closing the boot. ‘Structurally, anyhow.’ His bushy eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘You should have seen thestate it was in. But the boss got everything moving—once he makes his mind up to something he don’t hang about.’
    He lifted her bags. ‘If you’ll follow me, miss, I’ll rouse the housekeeper for you—Ms Penny. She’ll look after you.’
    The rows of pedimented windows gleamed as they had never done when she’d lived here and the main door had been newly painted. So Mrs Skeet hadn’t been kept on, she pondered as she entered the spacious hallway. Ben Dexter obviously believed in making a clean sweep. His restlessness would push him towards the principle of out with the old and in with the new. And that went for his women, too, she thought with a stab of bitterness that alarmed her.
    There had been no other car parked on the forecourt. Just the builder’s lorry and a giant skip. Which didn’t mean to say that his vehicle wasn’t tucked away in the old stable block.
    She asked, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat, the peculiar rolling sensation in her stomach, ‘Is Mr Dexter here?’ And held her breath.
    â€˜Couldn’t say, miss. I generally take my orders from his PA. I’m just the driver. Now…’ he set the cases down ‘…if you’ll wait half a tick I’ll go find Ms Penny.’
    Caroline closed her eyes as she expelled her breath and slowly opened them again to take stock. The central, sweeping staircase had been freshly waxed, as had the linen-fold wall panelling. And the black and white slabs beneath her feet gleamed with care.All vastly different from the dingy, increasingly neglected house she had been brought up in.
    But echoes of the past remained. If she listened hard enough she could hear her father’s acid voice. ‘You will do as I say, Caroline, exactly as I say.’ And even worse, ‘I will not tolerate it. Village children are not suitable playmates. If you disobey me again you will be severely punished.’ And Mrs Skeet’s voice, pleading, ‘Don’t cross your dad, young Carrie. You know it isn’t worth it.’
    Her full mouth