His tantalizing revenge!
Tycoon Marco Borsatto gave Stacey Jackson her first taste of pleasure...only to devastate her with accusations of treachery. Ever since, waitress Stacey has buried any hint of vulnerability behind a cool facadeâshe refuses to open herself up to hurt again.
Except Marco isnât a man to forgive and forget! When he rescues Stacey from another man, one look at Staceyâs luscious form is enough to remind him of her bitter betrayalâand their electrifying magnetism!
Marco wonât allow Stacey to slip through his fingers again: his touch will be his vengeance!
âDriveâ¦â Stacey breathed. âPlease.â
âThe least I can do,â the guy said as he put his foot to the floor, and she felt a wrench as the force of acceleration pulled her back. She let out a gasp and automatically grabbed the seat belt.
âItâs Ok. Youâre safe with me,â he said, looking round at her as he put more distance between them and Deckerâs.
Iâm safe with no man, she thought to herself. But she said nothingâonly stared out of the passenger window at the blurry urban scenery.
âItâs Ok. Try to relax. Iâm taking you to hospitalâto get checked out.â
Stacey squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Why did men always think they knew best?
âSeriously, I donât want to go to any hospital. I donât need a bunch of X-rays.â
âYou donât know what you need, Stacey Jackson. You never did.â
She jolted as if sheâd been hit by the car all over again. She turned to face the guy. One of his eyebrows shot up in a way she knew so well. And then it all fell into place.
Her heart pulsed right up into her throat. As if she were watching an old reel of film, Stacey looked on helplessly as scene after scene of sunshine, pleasure and then hard, dark pain flashed through her mind. Marco Borsatto. The boy from the right side of the tracksâthe boy sheâd fallen so helplessly in love with. The boy sheâd thought had fallen helplessly in love with herâ¦
Claimed by a Billionaire
Commanding and charismatic, these men take what they wantâand who they want!
Dante Hermida, polo-player and playboy extraordinaire, meets the only woman to tame him in
The Argentinianâs Virgin Conquest
April 2017
Billionaire tycoon Marco Borsatto has never forgiven Stacey Jacksonâs betrayal, but heâs never forgotten their chemistry⦠Meeting her again, heâs determined that this time she will never forget him!
The Italianâs Vengeful Seduction
May 2017
You wonât want to miss this dramatically intense, scorchingly sexy duet from Bella Frances!
Unable to sit still without reading, BELLA FRANCES first found romantic fiction at the age of twelve, in between deadly dull knitting patterns and recipes in the pages of her grandmotherâs magazines. An obsession was born! But it wasnât until one long, hot summer, after completing her first degree in English literature, that she fell upon the legends that are Mills & Boon books. She has occasionally lifted her head out of them since to do a range of jobs, including barmaid, financial adviser and teacher, as well as to practise (but never perfect) the art of motherhood on two (almost grown-up) cherubs.
Bella lives a very energetic life in the UK, but tries desperately to travel for pleasure at least once a monthâstrictly in the interests of research! Catch up with her on her website at bellafrances.co.uk.
Books by Bella Frances
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
The Playboy of Argentina
Claimed by a Billionaire
The Argentinianâs Virgin Conquest
Mills & Boon Modern Tempted
The Scandal Behind the Wedding Dressed to Thrill
Visit the Author Profile page
at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.
CHAPTER ONE
STACEY JACKSON WAS nobodyâs plaything. She reminded herself of that as she pressed a knuckle to the corner of her left eye and stopped dead the spring of hot, fat tears that swelled there. She was nobodyâs plaything and she was nobodyâs fool. And she was not going to apologise to any manâbest customer includedâfor saying so.
So sheâd lose her job. Again. But she was getting tired of Deckerâs Casino anyway. The late nights, the long shifts, the Perma-smileâbeing a croupier was exhausting.
And if that wasnât bad enough, being made to wear this stupid dress was the last straw.
If you could even call it that. Some strips of fabric held together by luck and pulled apart by filthy imaginations.
It made her look more like a hooker than Bruceâs private dancersâwhich sheâd told him as soon as sheâd seen it. Heâd told her to shut her mouth and get on with it. Which she hadâshe needed the money. But the minute sheâd leaned across the roulette wheel, right in front of him and his sleazy customers, sheâd seen their hungry glances and felt a prickle of anger race up her spine. And then her mouth had gone into gear.