He Return of the Discarded Heiress

Carmel glanced down at his watch. The minute hand had crept halfway around the dial, yet no one had emerged from the villa compound.

Impatient, he rolled down the window to peer outside.

Scorching heat rushed in at once, shattering the cold air inside the car. A low, gruff order snapped from the back seat: "Roll it up."

The voice was quiet, laced with a sharp, unyielding edge, and carried an unmistakable air of authority.

Carmel tensed at the sound, twisting around anxiously. He obediently slammed the window back up, but couldn't help muttering under his breath.

"Frazer, if this were your sister, you wouldn't be so calm! I was supposed to be here two days ago, but you made me go pick you up-resulting in us being delayed all the way until today! My dad just gave me a serious dressing-down over the phone and laid down an ultimatum: I've got to bring her home tonight, or else she'll never set foot in this house again. He even said that if I don't get it done, he'll come pick her up himself..."

Hill Frazier hadn't slept in three days. His head throbbed, and Carmel's chattering sounded like a power drill drilling into his skull. He suppressed the cold fury simmering in his eyes, leaned back, and lifted his lids to cast a blank glance at the young man in the front. His voice was hoarse and low.

"She's also my fiancée."

Those four simple words plunged the car into dead silence.

Three generations back, the Carmel family had built a respectable fortune.

But next to the Frazier family, it was nothing but a drop in the ocean. Carmel had grown up with Hill in the same elite compound, yet over the years, he'd come to realize the chasm between them-between himself, and the unstoppable force that was Hill Frazier.

Of this generation, the Fraziers doted on none more than the man in the back seat, a figure whose name struck fear into the heart of every high-society circle.

If his own grandfather hadn't shared a life-or-death bond with the Frazier patriarch-leaving the family owing a debt of honor-this engagement would never have fallen to his little cousin...

Worry flickered in Carmel's eyes.

His little cousin had been lost for over a decade. From what he'd dug up, she was ordinary in every way-hardly a match for a man like Hill Frazier.

"She's out!"

Carmel's worries vanished in an instant. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure slowly walking down the asphalt road leading from the villas.

"That's her. I'll go check."

Carmel called a quick warning to the back, unbuckled his seatbelt, and practically leaped out of the car.

In the bright sunlight, the slender figure drew closer.

The first thing that caught his eye was a pair of legs-slender, pale, perfectly proportioned, and straight.

Unbelievably fair.

Carmel was used to beautiful women-he'd mingled with A-listers and socialites for years-but he still froze, staring dumbfounded.

The girl approaching was barely eighteen. Her skin was so translucent it glowed in the sun, the faint pink of her capillaries visible beneath the surface. She had a porcelain face, pitch-black eyes, and lashes long as a feather duster-three parts cold detachment, three parts pure innocence, and a hint of untamed wildness that slipped out unconsciously.

Even with all the beauties he'd met, Carmel couldn't help thinking: Stunning.