Aspiring journalist Quinn secures an interview with the reclusive billionaire, Lachlan McIntyre, only to find herself stranded with him on his private island due to a typhoon. As they spend time together, Quinn uncovers layers of Lachlan's past, including a hidden family secret that could ruin his empire. Despite their age difference, Quinn finds herself incredibly attracted to Lachlan and Lachlan finds himself unable to control his need to spill all his secrets and his deepest thoughts and darkest desires to the young, ambitious woman. Once the storm blows over, Lachlan masterminds a plan to make Quinn to stay and write a full biography on him- to keep her on the island with him. Quinn is happy to take the opportunity especially as she gets to spend more time with the drop-dead gorgeous, famously mysterious billionaire. While working on his memoir, their feelings burn hot, but eventually Quinn must choose between exposing the truth and protecting the man she falls in love with. And can Lachlan let her leave once she knows all of his secrets?
Chapter 1 A Coup
Quinn
The email pinged into my inbox, the sound cutting through the din of the bustling newsroom. My heart skipped a beat as I read the subject line: Re: Interview Request - Lachlan McIntyre.
With trembling fingers, I opened it, my eyes devouring the words hungrily. After months of persistent requests and dead ends, I finally had my chance - an exclusive interview with the notoriously reclusive billionaire, Lachlan McIntyre.
A thrill shot through me, that electric tingle of a journalist on the verge of a huge scoop. This was the story that could make my career, if I played my cards right. Lachlan McIntyre was an enigma, shrouded in mystery and intrigue. A real-life Gatsby, his rise from obscurity to unimaginable wealth was the stuff of legend, his business dealings cloaked in secrecy.
I had made it my mission to unravel the truth behind the myth. And now, I finally had a foot in the door.
The email detailed the terms of the interview - it would take place at McIntyre's private island retreat in the South Pacific. A frisson of anticipation tingled through me. Just getting access to that isolated paradise was a major coup. The billionaire fiercely guarded his privacy, and this island was his sanctum, free from prying eyes.
I could hardly contain my excitement as I hurried to Cat's desk, waving the email printout. "I got it! The McIntyre interview!"
Cat squealed, her eyes widening. "No way! Quinn, that's amazing!" She engulfed me in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it, you brilliant thing!"
Pulling back, she held me at arm's length, her expression turning serious. "Just be careful, okay? This guy's got more secrets than the CIA."
I rolled my eyes, waving away her concern. "Relax, I've got this covered." Determination surged through me. "I'm going to get the real story."
Two weeks later, I boarded the sleek private jet that would whisk me to McIntyre's island, my body humming with nervous energy...
The flight passed in a blur, my mind racing as I mentally prepared myself. What would he be like in person - this man who had remained stubbornly anonymous, despite his staggering wealth and power? The jet's descent snapped me out of my reverie, and I gripped the armrests tightly as we began our approach to the remote island.
Even from the air, it was breathtaking - a lush green jewel set in turquoise waters so vibrant they seemed unreal. As we landed on the private airstrip, I caught my first glimpse of the luxurious villa nestled along the pristine beach. It was a striking blend of modern and tropical architecture, grand yet understated.
A young woman in a crisp white uniform greeted me as I disembarked, her smile polished and professional. "Welcome to Arcadia Island, Miss Jacobs. Please, follow me."
My sandals sank into the soft white sand as she led me along a winding path, flanked by towering palms and lush tropical foliage. The air smelled green and alive, with hints of plumeria and salty ocean. I couldn't help but gaze around in wonder. This place was truly a slice of paradise.
We arrived at the villa's entrance, where a sharply dressed older man awaited, his expression impassive. "Miss Jacobs, welcome. I'm Sims, Mr. McIntyre's estate manager." His clipped British tones commanded respect and discretion.
"Thank you," I murmured, suddenly feeling unaccountably nervous. This was it, the moment I'd been working towards for months.
Sims led me through the open-air villa, our footsteps echoing across the polished teak floors. The interior was sleek and elegant, a masterful blend of modern design and local accents. Through the wall of glass framing the living area, I could see the sparkling infinity pool that seemed to melt into the azure waters of the ocean. Suddenly, I felt horribly underdressed in the white jeans and cotton blouse I was wearing.
"Mr. McIntyre has asked I show you to your room to freshen up. He will meet you in the study at four," Sims intoned, as I internally rifled through the contents of my suitcase to figure out what I had that was appropriate for this opulent setting. Hustling behind the estate manager I caught up with him at the other end of the expansive living room where he was opening a pair of double doors and stepping back for me to enter.
The doors opened into a spacious sitting room with soaring ceilings and rich mahogany floors that was bigger than my entire apartment back in the city. As I stepped into the room, I consciously shut my lips tight to avoid looking like a total bumpkin as my eyes could barely take in the sumptuous luxury and tropical elegance. Plush cream sofas and armchairs were arranged around a large carved coffee table, providing an intimate lounging area. Sheer linen curtains framed the panoramic windows that showcased the breathtaking ocean view just beyond the private terrace.
Sims walked past me and opened another door leading to the bedroom. Wow. The room was a tranquil oasis, the centerpiece being an oversized canopy bed draped in delicate netting. The frame was made of intricately carved teak wood with a plush upholstered headboard. Crisp white linens were topped with a light duvet in shades of aqua and sand. At the foot of the bed sat a vintage leather trunk, adding a touch of old-world charm.
I was drawn to the wall on the far side of the room that consisted of wooden louvered doors that opened onto the terrace, allowing the space to be flooded with natural light and the soothing sounds of the lapping waves. The terrace itself featured a small private pool with a waterfall feature, surrounded by lush tropical landscaping and plush chaise lounges.
Sims cleared his throat, motioning to yet another door when I turned. "And this is the bathroom, miss."
Taking in the spa-like bathroom, I couldn't imagine what else I could possibly want--much less need. The white marble room rivaled any high-end resort I'd ever seen in Conde Nast with its freestanding soaking tub, oversized glass-enclosed rain shower, and dual vanities topped with beautiful fixtures. Every surface glowed with warm lighting, and fresh orchids added pops of vibrant color throughout the space. Luxurious amenities like plush robes, premium toiletries, and fluffy towels awaited.
"Should you need anything else, please just let me know. I will be back to take you to Mr. McIntyre in an hour."
"Uh, thank you Mr. Sims."
"Just Sims, Miss." And with that pronouncement, I was alone in paradise.
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