The Tycoon's Rebel Bride

By: Maya Banks


Theron Anetakis sifted through the mountain of paperwork his secretary had left

on his desk for him to read, muttering expletives as he tossed letters left and right.

Occasionally one would garner more than a brief glance and then he’d shove it to a

separate pile of things requiring his attention. Others, he consigned to the trash can by his


His takeover of the New York offices of Anetakis International hadn’t been

without its pitfalls. After the discovery that one of the staff members had been selling

Anetakis hotel plans to a competitor, Theron and his brothers had cleaned house, hiring

new staff. The culprit, Chrysander’s former personal assistant, was behind bars after a

plea bargain. They had been leery of replacing her and allowing another employee

unfettered access to sensitive company information, but in the end, Theron had opted to

bring in his secretary from the London office. She was older, stable and most

importantly, loyal. Though after the debacle with Roslyn, none of the Anetakis brothers

were keen to trust another employee implicitly.

Theron’s arrival from London had been met by a pile of documents, contracts,

messages and e-mails. Two days later, he was still trying to make sense of the mess. And

to think his secretary had already weeded out the majority of the clutter.

He paused over one letter addressed to Chrysander and almost tossed it as junk

mail, but yanked it back into his line of vision when he saw what it said. His brow

furrowed deeper as he scanned the page, and stretched out his other hand for the phone.

Uncaring of the time difference, or that he would probably wake Chrysander, he

punched in the number and waited impatiently for the call to go through. He spared a

brief moment of guilt that he would also be disturbing Marley, Chrysander’s wife, but

hopefully he would pick up the phone before it wakened her.

“This better be damn good,” Chrysander growled in a sleepy voice.

Theron didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Who the hell is Isabella?” he


“Isabella?” There was no doubt as to the confusion in Chrysander’s voice.

“You’re calling me at this hour to ask me about a woman?”

“Tell me…” Theron shook his head. No, Chrysander wouldn’t be unfaithful to

Marley. Whatever this woman was to Chrysander, it must have been before he met

Marley. “Just tell me what I need to know in order to get rid of her,” Theron said

impatiently. “I’ve a letter here informing you of her progress, whatever the hell that

means, and that she’s graduated successfully.” Theron’s lips thinned in disgust. “Theos,

Chrysander. Isn’t she a bit young for you to have been involved with?”

Chrysander exploded in a torrent of Greek, and Theron held the phone from his

ear until the storm calmed.

“I do not like your implication, little brother,” Chrysander said in an icy voice. “I

am married. Of course I am not involved with this Isabella.” And then Theron heard

Chrysander’s sharp intake of breath. “Bella. Of course,” he murmured. “I’m not thinking

clearly at this hour of the night.”

“And I repeat, who is this Bella?” Theron asked, his patience running out.

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“Caplan. Isabella Caplan. Surely you remember, Theron.”

“Little Isabella?” Theron asked in surprise. He hadn’t remembered her at all until

Chrysander mentioned her last name. An image of a gangly, preteen girl with ponytails

and braces shot to mind. He’d seen her a few times since, but he honestly couldn’t

conjure an image. He remembered her being shy and unassuming, always trying to fade

into the background. She’d been at his parents’ funeral, but he’d been too consumed with

grief to pay attention to the young woman. How old would she have been then?

Chrysander chuckled. “She’s not so little anymore. She will have just graduated.

Was doing quite well. Intelligent girl.”

“But why are you getting a report on her?” Theron asked. “For God’s sake, I

thought she might be a former mistress, and the last thing I wanted was her causing

trouble for Marley.”

“While your devotion to my wife is commendable, it’s hardly necessary,”

Chrysander said dryly. Then he sighed. “Our obligation to Bella had temporarily slipped

my mind. My focus of late has been on Marley and our child.”

“What obligation?” Theron asked sharply. “And why haven’t I heard of this

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