Harper's Fortune , livre ebook

Troubador Publishing Ltd - F.C. Clark

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172 pages

English

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M4RRY M3...Kate and Luke's lives are irrevocably changed. Luke is forced to reveal his top-secret military past to rescue Kate from Russia and she discovers the explosive consequences of becoming a major shareholder of Bagrov and Cooper.But are all her enemies Russian, or are some a little closer to home? With threats to her life, Kate struggles to know who can be trusted as she tries to find answers. A bomb, a proposal and a devastating secret test Kate and Luke to their absolute limits. Will they survive their biggest challenge yet?

Sujets

Russie

Cité de Londres

City of London

Russia

Erotic romance novels

City (Londres)

Informations

Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	16 avril 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781838598792
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Copyright © 2019 F. C. Clark

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 978 1838598 792

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

Mum
Thank you for all your support and
encouragement.
Love you always.
Contents
Acknowledgments
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Russia
Acknowledgments
Firstly, I would like to thank my amazing husband; here we go again my darling.
Of course my three babies, love you forever.
Thank you, to all my family and friends for your endless support.
A huge thank you to everyone who has read Harper’s Fate and fell in love with Kate and Luke.
A massive thank you to all my Facebook friends and followers, who have liked, shared and spread the word – I am truly grateful.
To the girls I have met on Instagram, thank you for your support.
A special thank you to Erica and Sophie at EKC.
To Luke and Brendan at FMC – sorry and thank you!
Lastly, to my editor Jane Hammett thank you for your guidance.
1
‘Katarina Varizin?’ the tallest man asks, in a strong Russian accent.
‘Kate Harper.’ I correct him.
‘You follow us,’ he says.
I nod.
He leads the way and his associate trails behind me.
I stop before I enter the cabin.
Holy shit, what am I doing?
I’m ushered to a seat and fasten my seatbelt, gripping my bag tightly. The first man faces me, while his friend sits next to me. I study them. Both men are dressed in identical black clothing, with matching stern expressions. Within minutes the plane begins to move. Fear rises in me, but it’s too late to escape.
When the plane reaches cruising altitude, both men unfasten their seatbelts. One moves to the rear of the plane, while the other disappears to the front. The first man returns.
‘Water.’ He hands me a plastic bottle, and resumes his position in front of me.
‘Thank you.’ Panic makes me need to speak. ‘How long is the flight?’
He holds up three fingers.
‘Three hours?’
He waves his hand from side to side.
‘Longer than three hours?’
He nods.
Silence again.
‘How long have you worked for Ivor Varizin?’
He glares. I’m not sure if he understood the question or is just unwilling to divulge information. He holds up a hand, his fingers spread wide.
‘Five years?’
He nods again. Jesus Christ. I admit defeat. I’ll stay silent from here on.
We continue the journey in silence, both men seated close to me. I look out of the window, watching England slowly disappear. My body is cold from shock. I unzip my bag and reach for Ivor’s letter. The words are clear: Ivor Varizin is our biological father! I close my eyes, recalling Harry’s face, watching my sister crumble in my arms. I should be with her and Mum, waiting for Dad to wake, not here.
I put the letter away and clasp my arms around my bag. I can’t think straight; thoughts of adoption and money circulate in my mind, but the only thought that remains strong is Luke. Longing for his protection, I bring my scarf to my nose, inhaling the scent of him, the Sutton scent. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
Someone nudges my shoulder and my eyes suddenly open wide. Crap! I fell asleep!
‘Are we here?’ I ask.
The first man nods.
Despite feeling terrified, I can’t ignore a small rush of curiosity.

The door opens and the warm air hits me. The day is sunny and the sky clear blue. I follow the first man down the metal steps. The plane is standing in what looks like an abandoned airfield. There is no passport control. Where the hell am I?
A black four-by-four waits nearby, with another man dressed in matching clothing. I climb in the back seat. The first man slides in next to me and the other two men get in the front.
The four-by-four moves fairly quickly along the poor roads. I strain to see outside: there is dense foliage and heavy woodland on either side. The long journey allows me to think of some questions to ask the man I’m about to meet.
Eventually we arrive at a set of large metal gates manned by yet more staff, carrying guns. The colour fades from my face and bile rises in my throat. I swallow hard as the gates open.
In the distance stands a large house – actually, it’s not a house. The only words to describe the property are ‘stately home’. I remember the first day I arrived at Luke’s enormous house, but this leaves me floored. The car drives slowly down the long gravel driveway. I’m lost for words. My biological father lives here?
The car stops. My anxiety levels rise. Another man ushers me out of the car towards the gothic front door, while scanning around us. For what, I don’t know. I step forward and enter a world I’m not accustomed to, nor wish to be. The house is huge: the hall is twice the size of the house I used to share with Harry. Large paintings and rugs hang from various walls, and an enormous dark-oak staircase sweeps around the edge of the hall, continuing high above us. With no time to absorb any more of my surroundings, I’m led further into the house – before I come to an abrupt stop.
A man appears in front of me. He must be in his late fifties. He’s tall, with thick dark hair that has a generous helping of grey streaks. He is striking and has strong dark eyes. He walks towards me, his hand extended. I stare at him as our matching eyes meet.
‘Katarina, pleased to meet you, and welcome to Russia. I am Ivor Varizin.’
I’m nervous; still, I take his hand in mine. ‘Kate.’
He nods, accepting that I’m not Katarina; Kate is the only name I’ve ever known. We size each other up, and I can’t help but look for similarities between us. Harry has the same hair as him, and we both have his eyes.
‘Come. You must be tired after your journey.’ He speaks to one of the men in Russian and gestures for me to follow him. ‘How was your flight?’ His English is clear, his accent faint.
‘OK,’ I answer, taking in my surroundings once again. We move towards the rear of the property and enter a large room. The grandness is breathtaking – there is dark, heavy furniture and a vaulted ceiling with intricate plaster mouldings. The room is austere, but a roaring fire softens the masculinity.
‘Sit, please.’
I lower myself into the huge, brick-coloured sofa.
A servant enters with a silver tray.
‘You like coffee, Kate?’
‘Yes.’ I look around the room. ‘These pictures – are they of your family?’
A smile spreads across his face. He appears pleased with my question. ‘Yes, and your family too. Some date back many years.’
I raise my brows. Wow! Mum has a ‘keep calm and drink tea’ picture on her wall. There’s no comparison.
‘Do you take milk and sugar?’
‘Just milk, please.’
He pours the coffee from a large silver pot and passes it to me.
‘Thank you.’
‘I apologise for meeting you under these circumstances.’
My head is full of questions. ‘Did you know my dad was attacked this morning? He’s in hospital, fighting for his life.’ I watch him closely.
‘Yes.’
I take a deep breath. Christ, has he been watching my entire family?
‘Did you do it?’ Even if he were involved, would he tell me?
‘No! I would not hurt the man who has protected my daughter.’ He scowls at my question.
‘I had to ask.’ Our eyes lock. ‘I have no reason to trust you.’
‘Katarina – sorry, Kate. I understand your need for questions and your reasons for not trusting me.’ His lips curl. ‘You are like your mother.’ He looks down at his coffee, clearly struggling with some emotion.
‘I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen her.’ I can’t help but feel hostile towards this stranger – my father.
‘You speak your mind, like your mother.’ He smiles warmly.
‘How did she die?’
Ivor takes a deep breath. ‘Kate.’ His eyes meet mine, allowing me to see his pain. ‘The official paperwork says she committed suicide. But this is not true. She was one of the strongest women I have ever met’ – he places his hand over his heart – ‘in here. I know someone killed her. I was in prison when she died.’
My face drops. ‘She was murdered? Fuck!’ Shit – I hope he doesn’t understand English swear words. However, the raising of his brows indicates he does.
He nods. ‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Money, greed, or revenge – I wish I knew. As I said, I was in prison when your mother gave birth to you, and I was still there when she died. My family have had many enemies over the years. I accept vengeance may be the reason for her death. Her file… It does not speak the truth.’
‘She died in London?’
‘Yes.’
I can’t take much more; I feel overloaded by emotion. I pick up my coffee, hoping the caffeine will wake me from this nightmare. The heat trickles down my throat, confirming this is real and not a dream.
‘When you say files, do you mean death certificate?’
‘Yes.’
‘Maybe she was weaker than