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Georgia Le Carre

ALSO BY GEORGIA

The Billionaire Banker Series

Owned

42 Days

Besotted

Seduce Me

Love’s Sacrifice

Masquerade

Pretty Wicked

(Novella)

Disfigured Love

Crystal Jake

(The EDEN Series)

Sexy Beast

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Wounded Beast

Published by Georgia Le Carre

Copyright © 2015 by Georgia Le Carre

The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN:978-1-910575-17-8

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This book is dedicated to these AMAZING women:

Caryl Minton,

Elizabeth Burns &

SueBee of ‘Bring Me An Alpha’

The call themselves beta readers, but I call them

my indispensible secret weapons.

Contents

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

EPILOGUE

ONE

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Memories …

Why do you come back?

                 —Amit Singh, Poet

Sometimes you read a book or watch a movie and you get to that point in the story when everything is about to change forever. At this point the characters could escape and go on with their life as if nothing had happened. The moment when the hero or heroine stands in front of a closed door and decides whether to go in and face the unknown, or walk away. Once, I thought I stood at that door.

But in real life there is often more than one door.

If I hadn’t called my accountant that morning, or if I had called him five minutes later when I was already in the one-way traffic system and it was impossible to turn around and go back, I would never have come across that door. But I did call him, just before I reached the point where the traffic system would have made the door disappear.

‘Hey, Dom,’ he says briskly.

‘What time is your appointment with the parasites today?’

‘They’re already at the restaurant. I’m driving there right now, but I’ll probably be another twenty minutes. I hope they don’t start talking to the staff or snooping around.’ He sounds apprehensive.

‘Where are you meeting them?’ I ask.

‘Lady Marmalade.’

‘I’m less than five minutes away. I’ll go and keep the fuckers company while they wait for you,’ I offer.

‘No!’ he shouts suddenly, so loudly it makes my eardrum vibrate like a tuning fork.

‘What the fuck, Nigel!’ I swear, tearing the phone away from my ear.

He calms down double quick. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. But please, whatever you do, don’t go there.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s just better.’

‘You think I’m scared of those pug-ugly inspectors?’

‘No, no, no, I don’t think that at all. I’d just really appreciate it if you didn’t confront them.’

‘I’m not going to confront them. I’ll just pass by and offer them a cappuccino.’

I hear him take a deep breath. ‘Dom. In my professional capacity I have to advise you not to make contact with them. They’re dangerous. Anything you say could lead them to deepen their investigation. I know how to handle them. You don’t.’

‘Look. I’m already turning in to the restaurant. Tell me their names. I’ll be the perfect host, I promise.’

I hear him sigh dramatically. ‘It’s Mr. Robert Hunter and Miss Ella Savage.’

‘A woman?’ I ask surprised as I switch off the ignition, open the door and step into the light summer rain.

‘You don’t want to underestimate her. Savage by name and savage by nature,’ Nigel cautions immediately. ‘She’s like the Snow Queen. Beautiful and ruthless. You definitely don’t want to hit on her.’

I laugh. Nigel always amuses me. I own strip clubs full of beautiful, willing women with hardly any clothes on. I’m hardly desperate enough or foolish enough to try to chat up the tax officer who has come to break my balls. Although, I kinda like the idea of taking a snooty cow down a peg or two. ‘Don’t mistake me for Shane,’ I tell him. My younger brother Shane is the playboy of the family.

‘Look, all I’m saying is don’t rock the boat in any way,’ he urges in frustration.

The back door of the restaurant is open, and some of my staff are lounging around smoking cigarettes under the canopy. ‘Morning, boss,’ they greet cheerfully, and I raise a finger in acknowledgment.

‘Hang on, Nigel,’ I say into the receiver and turn toward my boys. ‘Are the tax officers inside?’

They nod. ‘Yes, boss. Maria has already offered them coffee. They looked a bit pissed off that there was no management here to meet them. The bloke’s gone to the toilet—he’s been in there for the last five minutes—and the woman’s waiting in the restaurant.’

I thank them and step into the washing up area of the restaurant. The dishwashers are running and it is noisy. I wait until I get to the kitchen area before I put the phone back to my ear.

‘Right, Nigel, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.’

‘I’d really prefer it if you did not meet them, Dom,’ he says, barely able to mask his anxiety.

‘I know. You said.’

‘Whatever you do, don’t antagonize them,’ he pleads.

‘I won’t.’

‘Right. Just remember: the less said, the better. Don’t let her manipulate you into revealing anything.’

‘There’s nothing to reveal, Nigel,’ I say and kill the connection.

I nod at my chef, Sebastiano. He’s standing over a hunk of meat laid out on the stainless steel table. In his right hand he’s holding a knife, and with his left hand he’s stroking the meat as if it’s alive to locate the juiciest, most tender part so it can be precisely carved out and presented as tonight’s Chef’s Special. Cutting meat properly is a skill as old as hunting itself.


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