Trishna - Maggie Cox - From Rags to Riches - The Man Behind the Mask (html)

O VER my dead body! Daniel Caruana hadnt made it past the first paragraph of his sisters email before he crumpled the printout in his fist and hurled it in fury at the closest wall. Monica marrying Jake Fletcher? No way in the world!

Not if he had anything to do with it!

Too wound up to sit, too agitated to stand still, he gave in to the need to pace, his long strides eating up length after length of his sprawling offices floor, while his restless hands took turns clawing though his hair. By his side, full-height windows took full advantage of the view of a white, sandy palm-lined beach and the azure sea that glinted under the tropical Far North Queensland sun.

Daniel saw nothing of it.

Daniel saw only red.

Whatever had possessed him to allow Monica to study in Brisbane? So far from Cairns, so far away from his influence. And clearly nowhere near far enough away from the grasping hands of Jake Fletcher.

He stopped pacing, his mind making connections that sent ice floes careening down his spine. Fletcher had called twice this week out of the blue, leaving messages for Daniel to call back, messages Daniel had brushed aside like he was swiping at an annoying insect needling at his skin. For he had no desire to speak to Fletcher ever again. Had no purpose.

But now it appeared Fletcher had purposeif only to gloat

Bile rose in his throat, its bitter taste the perfect accompaniment to his mindset. Please God, not Fletcher.

Please God, not his sister.

Especially after what had happened before.

Daniel leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes, a vision remaining of a girl with laughing blue eyes and a sweet, sweet smile.

Emma.

As long as he drew breath, he would not forget Emma.

Nor what Jake Fletcher had done to her!

He opened his eyes and gazed far out to where the cerulean sea met the sky, searching for answers and solutions. Ordinarily the picture-postcard view was a sight that inspired him. Cheered him. Even, on occasion, soothed his fractured nerves.

Today all that sun-drenched perfection only served to mock the storm-tossed contents of his mind.

He slammed one palm against the glass. Damnnot Monica! Hed barely seen off Monicas last so-called boyfriend, an effort that had left him twenty-thousand dollars poorer on the deal. Small change, given what the jerk might have held out for if hed done his homework a little more thoroughly and found out what his girlfriend was really worth.

Fletcher, on the other hand, probably knew how much the Caruana fortune was worth down to every last cent. Twenty-thousand dollars would be nowhere near enough to deter his kind, especially not now he probably imagined he was practically family.

No way. His fingers pressed hard against the glass, as rigid as his resolve. As long as Daniel had any say in it, Jake Fletcher would never be family.

Fletcher wouldnt come cheapthere was no doubt of thatbut everyone had their price, and whatever it took to free Monica of his poison influence would be worth it.

The phone on his desk buzzed behind him. Daniel scowled at the interruptionsurely his empire could cope for just ten minutes without him? Then he reached for it. After all, he hadnt taken the Caruana name from the brink of financial disaster to its dizzy heights by ignoring his businesses, whatever the reason.

He would deal with Fletchernothing was surerbut he would not lower his game in the process. His hand snatched up the receiver. What?

A moments hesitation met his retort, a moment in which he remembered it was a temp sitting outside and not his usual indestructible PA.

Mr Caruana? she squeaked. Theres a Missa Miss Turner here to see you.

His scowl deepened and for a second the problem of Fletcher took a back seat. He couldnt remember anything about any Miss Turner. Who?

Sophie Turner: from One Perfect Day .

The name made no sense to him but he was used to people trying to talk their way into his office, looking for favours, or more frequently cash contributions towards shaky business-plans the banks had already turned down. This Miss Sophie Turner was no doubt another of their ilk. Never heard of her. Get rid of her. He slammed the phone back down, annoyed again with the unnecessary interruption when he had important things on his mind.

Even more annoyed when the phone buzzed a second time not thirty seconds later. What is it this time? he growled into the mouthpiece, unforgiving at the interruption, even if the girl didnt know better.

Her voice sounded even more timid. Miss Turner says it should have been in the email your sister sent you. All the details about her visit were apparently there.