Page 189 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

Billion-Dollar Ring Ruse

Jadesola James

“Am I that obvious?”

“Weren’t you trying to be?”

“Don’t be so eager to rush a beautiful thing, Miss Montgomery.”

“Val,” she corrected, her heart thumping like a rabbit’s. If this was happening, she couldn’t let it happen with him calling herMiss Montgomeryor, worse yet, Valentina. Not with his liquid, rich voice simply dripping with all the dirty things she presumed he could do to her—it was bringing to the surface something she wasn’t ready to explore. Not with him.

And yet, her thoughts were going in directions she couldn’t control, while she sat in the booth, heart thudding, mentally grasping at them as they floated beyond her fingertips into places that sent back heated, urgent images that took her breath away with their sensuality. His mouth on her neck, his lips on hers, the softness of his breath on her ear. His hands on her breasts, hips, bottom, thighs. Stroking. Exploring.

Gripping.

Her face bloomed with heat, and it left her body in the softest of exhales before hefinallykissed her.

To my fellow romance authors, both at

Harlequin Presents and beyond. Thanks for all the advice, support and encouragement along the way.

CHAPTER ONE

WITH HIS BACKto his guests and his eyes closed tight, Desmond Tesfay was counting backward from ten. No, twenty. Ten seconds was nowhere near sufficient to clear the clouds of irritation now hovering like a mist over his senses.

The origin of these clouds was teenage heiress Hind Al-Bahri, who was chattering away behind his back. She’d been shadowing him in his office since nine o’clock that morning at the behest of her father, who was the new president of aviation for the oil-rich nation of Bahr Al-Dahab and the biggest potential client Desmond had welcomed that year.

Hell, the biggest potential client he’deverwelcomed. There was money, and there wasmoney. It also meant a way into a market with unlimited possibilities. He’d have tap-danced naked in front of Buckingham Palace in order to get this man’s attention, so letting a spoiled teenager trail him for a day in order to get a “feel for business” was easy in comparison.

And, if all went well, he would land a deal that would not only make Tesfay International a giant in the aviation industry, but would also ensure its reputation as an innovator. Apioneer.

Ten long years of hard work would finally pay off.

Desmond shifted a bit and ran a finger under the collar of his snow-white shirt. It felt as if it were choking him beneath his midnight blue, slim-cut suit. His whole body was sparking with nervous, devastated energy.

Father.His heart cried out the word, though his lips were still.

It had been nearly ten years since his father, Abram Tesfay, had lost his life in the smoking remains of EssentialAire Flight 0718. Ten years since his father’s business, as broken as Desmond’s heart, had been passed to him, a graduate with barely a year of work experience.

Ten years since his whole world had shattered.

Ten years since his vow to rebuild his father’s legacy, whatever the cost.

He’d spent years clawing upward toward the sun. And he’d finally—finally!—broken through to light.

Desmond closed his eyes and tried to picture his father’s face. The most frightening thing was how poorly he was able to recall his father’s features outside of photographs.

Those pictures were hidden in his office now, buried by the PR teams that had come and gone after the tragedy in a bid to ensure potential clients forgot what had happened.

But they hadn’t forgotten, had they?

No major international airline wanted to be seen doing business with the firm, but all that was about to change.

Desmond finished counting, rearranged his features, and mentally snapped back into the persona he donned every morning like the custom suits he favored. He wrapped himself in it so tightly that nothing could escape.

Laconic. Wry. Charming.Light.

Not a hint of the grief he carried could show in anything he said or did. Though the memorial of his father’s death was a mere twenty-four hours away, his dark mood was buried deep down inside where no one could see it.

---