by Jennifer St. George
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Published by Penguin on September 15th, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Romance
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Source: Tasty Book Tours
Heiress Lady Zara Ravensdale and Xavier Hunt, the gardener's son, were once inseparable. But before their romance had a chance to bloom, it was crushed by scandal and betrayal.
Xavier is now an international celebrity and sexier than sin while Zara is deep in debt, running Ravensdale Manor as an upmarket hotel to make ends meet. Unable to forget the past, Xavier returns to the manor, determined to exact his revenge on the Ravensdale family – once and for all.
Together again, passions reignite and the old chemistry becomes impossible to ignore. But Xavier and Zara are both keeping secrets and neither can forget their troubled history. Will they be able to uncover the truth of that night or will Xavier's need for revenge tear them apart forever?
The Billionaire's Passionate Revenge is the third book in the Billionaire series by bestselling romance author, Jennifer St George. If you love billionaire romance, don't miss this passionate read!
‘I usually find I’m greeted with, “Good morning, Mr Hunt. May I take your bags, Mr Hunt?” Or, “Nice to see you back. I hope you enjoy your stay . . . Mr Hunt.”’
What was he saying? She opened her mouth to speak but her mind raced with so many memories. She’d often wondered what would happen if they ever came face-to-face. She’d run the scenario in her head countless times. In each of her mental role-plays she’d remained cool and indifferent, not speechless and stupid.
‘What . . . What are you doing here?’ she managed, unable to keep the abject shock from her voice. She knew from occasionally reading about him online that he spent most of his time in the US, where he’d made his billion-dollar fortune.
‘No. I’ve never been greeted with that one.’ His tone was flippant, as though they didn’t have years of tortured history between them. He reached into the cab of his van and pulled out a worn brown leather satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He walked toward the pillared entrance of the manor.
He moved as though the whole world was watching and he didn’t give a damn. So confident and forceful. His simple clothes belied the extraordinary fame of the man.
Of course she’d seen him on his world-famous gardening show and that one time across a crowded room, but . . . But he was nothing like the lanky teenager who’d left Ravensdale in a police van, screaming for revenge.
‘Xavier, wait.’ She raced after him. This was a disaster. Xavier arriving when her first guest was due. She blocked his path. ‘What are you doing here?’ She glanced over her shoulder down the drive. ‘It’s . . . Well, I’ve got someone arriving. Someone is coming to stay. A guest. An important guest.’ God, she was babbling. She took a deep breath. ‘Could you please move the truck and wait for me in the kitchen?’
‘Hmm.’ He stepped in close. She could smell him. Even after all these years, that intoxicating aroma was the same . . . raw masculinity, earthiness and sunshine. Her body flushed with heat. She sucked in a breath, stunned he still had the power to make her heart flutter.
‘Did losing all the family money knock out some of your mental faculties, Zara?’ He tapped her forehead with his fingertips.
She jerked back. ‘I beg your pardon.’ For a man who’d dropped in unannounced he was certainly taking a lot of liberties, even if he had once called Ravensdale home.
His look seemed to ask: Are you the world’s greatest imbecile?
‘I’m the guest,’ he said slowly, as though speaking to someone with limited intelligence.
The muscles in her back and neck pulled rigid. Her hand landed heavily on her breastbone. ‘You . . . You can’t be.’ Xavier would never willingly come back here. He’d made that clearer than the finest Bohemian crystal all those years ago.
‘Why?’ He hitched an eyebrow. ‘Do you have a blue-bloods only policy?’ His words struck like a stinging slap in the cheek.
‘You know I’m not like that.’
Bringing his face down, inches from her own, his hypnotic eyes pinned her to the spot. She resisted the urge to step away, and held her breath. She didn’t want to reveal how his presence sent a quiver of fear up her spine.
‘You know, Zara,’ his voice was low and deliberate, ‘there was a time when I thought I knew everything there was to know about you. That we had trust and a bond so strong, nothing in the world could break it.’ The weight of his words seemed to drive her into the ground. ‘But I was wrong. My time at Ravensdale Manor, and knowing people like you, taught me a valuable life lesson.’
He walked toward the house then stopped, turned slightly and tossed her his keys.
‘Bags are in the back.’ His tone and body language communicated everything.
You are nothing and no one to me.