by L A Pepper
Love Me Billionaire
A Contemporary Romance Box Set
L.A. Pepper
Contents
Enemy Fiance Billionaire
About L.A. Pepper
Other Titles
Chapter One: Home
Chapter Two: Away
Chapter Three: Stuck
Chapter Four: Settle Down
Chapter Five: Be Free
Chapter Six: Unattached
Chapter Seven: Attached
Chapter Eight: Driving
Chapter Nine: Setting Up
Chapter Ten: Going Places
Chapter Eleven: Wish
Chapter Twelve: The Way The World Worked
Chapter Thirteen: Gone
Chapter Fourteen: Home Town
Chapter Fifteen: Charming
Chapter Sixteen: Adventure
Chapter Seventeen: Together
Epilogue
Protecting His Secret
About L.A. Pepper
Other Titles
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
The Doctor’s Secrets
About L.A. Pepper
Other Titles
Chapter One: Alex
Chapter Two: Jordan
Chapter Three: Alex
Chapter Four: Jordan
Chapter Five: Alex
Chapter Six: Jordan
Chapter Seven: Alex
Chapter Eight: Jordan
Chapter Nine: Alex
Chapter Ten: Jordan
Chapter Eleven: Alex
Chapter Twelve: Jordan
Chapter Thirteen: Alex
Epilogue: Jordan
About L.A. Pepper
Other Titles
Enemy Fiance Billionaire
An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Office Romance
LA Pepper
© Copyright 2019 - All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
About L.A. Pepper
Like you, LA loves contemporary romance stories and is an avid reader.
She’s had her heart broken by her true love, yet is still addicted to happily ever after endings!
When LA is not writing about the next bad boy billionaire, contemporary romance novel, she enjoys a glass of Chianti, raclette with her girlfriends, spin classes, and watching the sunrise every morning!
She is a self-proclaimed desperate housewife and lives in a cul-de-sac of excitement, drama, and love stories. Many of her outlines are inspired here.
LA was given her nickname by one of her teenage daughters, and it stuck with friends and family!
Leanne lives in Canada with her husband, and 4 children!
She would love to connect with you!
Connect with The Author
L.A. Pepper’s Private Facebook Group
Other Titles
Enemy Fiance Billionaire: An Enemy to Lovers Fake Fiancé Office Romance
Protecting His Secret: A Billionaire Second Chance Secret Romance
Free Gifts
Free Copy of Lovesick: A Billionaire Best Friends Brother Secret Baby Romance
Chapter One: Home
Rachel Rothenberg, my boss, lowered her terribly chic black-framed glasses to look at me, unimpeded. “Chloe Beckett, if you want to succeed in publishing, you must learn how to play the game. You do want to succeed, don’t you?”
I sighed in frustration and a strand of hair that had escaped my pony tail puffed up in front of my face. I tucked it behind my ear. “You know I want to succeed more than anything. I want to leave a mark on the world, and this is it, Rachel. I know it and I believe it. This is important. We simply MUST have a section in the magazine on domestic travel.”
“Chloe. The magazine is called ‘Worldly.’ It’s about world travel. And leisure. Luxury.”
I raised a finger. “Correct! And where we are now is part of the world and in order to have a full picture of the world, we have to address it. That’s why a regular section called ‘Home’ gives us an opening to address how we can appreciate the familiar as well as the exotic.”
“I am not arguing with you. I agree, however, if you want to pursue your interest here, you need to play the game, like I said.”
“I don’t play games. I decide on a course of action and make sure it gets done.”
“That is why I hired you. You don’t put up with nonsense. And you’re brilliant. You have a bright career ahead of you. Your ideas could change the world.”
“So then give me the section. You’re the boss.”
Rachel laughed. “I’m not the boss. I’m just your boss.”
I shook my head impatiently. “The Boss” is never here. He’s too busy traipsing around the world being a dilettante and gracing gossip rag covers with his latest gal pal. We all know you’re the real brains behind Worldly Magazine, and Nick Meryton is just an empty, pretty face who uses his celebrity status to sell copies.”
“My ears are ringing.”
It was a new voice. Deep and rich, a vein of humor running through it. I jumped. Too focused on Rachel and trying to plead my case with her, I didn’t handle the surprise interruption well. My heart beat fast.
He turned and shot me a look, pinning me in place with his melting amber eyes. He was tall and filled the room with his presence. His broad shoulders were covered by a tailored suit and his head cocked as he looked me up and down. I could not move. Or even breathe, and I certainly couldn’t speak. His dark hair waved back from a high brow and his cheekbones could cut glass. His sensual lips quirked up in amusement and then he looked from me to Rachel and I was left gasping. I had written all about him, researching him and examining his life, but this was the first time I’d ever met him in person and it was overwhelming.
It was only a fraction of a second, but it was as if the bedrock of the city had shifted under me. I had never met anyone who had taken my breath away so thoroughly. Sweat trickled down my spine. I couldn’t exactly feel my hands; he was that beautiful. I was that stunned. Was he even human? He might be an angel descended from on high.
“Nick, sweetheart, you’re finally back. How was Kuala Lumpur?”
This was Nicholas Meryton.
The breath I’d lost came back and caught in my throat. Of course. I should have recognized him but I’d been too stunned by his presence. This was the man I’d just called a pretty empty face. Nicholas Meryton. The founder and editor-in-chief of Worldly Magazine, where I had recently been hired. My boss. No. My boss’s boss. The billionaire celebrity who was the actual reason I even had a job. And I had called him a dilettante.
“I apol—” I tried to do something, anything to fix this. I didn’t play games but I could recognize when I’d messed up.
He held up an imperious hand without even looking at me.
“Your new protege, I assume?” he said to Rachel, not to me. “The one who was hired while I was away? The one who called me, and I quote, ‘the next great big game prize of beautiful billionaire bachelors.’"
“We needed to replace Jenkins.” Rachel shrugged. “Chloe is quite brilliant, and s
he has an excellent resume.”
“Ah, yes.” He turned briefly and deigned to give me an insincere smile. “With experience in fashion, and,” he cleared his throat, “Celebrity news? Quite the journalist.” The smile should have withered me instead, my blood boiled.
“Listen--” I said, finding myself on my feet, not at all apologetic any more.
He finally turned to me. “Miss Beckett, is it?”
“Yes, as you’d know if you’d been here for the last six months. I’ve been here day in and day out.”
“She burns the midnight oil, Nick, much like you.”
“How can he burn the midnight oil if he’s not even here, Rachel?” I didn’t know why I said such a thing.
“I was WORKING. I run a travel magazine and therefore I travel.” His eyes flashed with a fire I thought might like to burn me up completely. “And I don’t need to be scolded by some intern.”
“I’m a feature article writer!”
“Writing features on the latest skirt styles or is it celebrity exposes?”
“I only wrote about you once.”
“It was quite scathing.”
“She was half your age!”
“She’s a grown woman! I did nothing wrong.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself. Dating a teenager. How old are you? 40?”
“You know I’m 30. You’re too much of a perfectionist to not do your due diligence.” He looked scandalized at my outright insult. I’d called him old, and he knew it. I knew he wasn’t 40. I knew as a lot about him. Everyone did. He was famous. Infamous was maybe a better world. He glared at me. “She was twenty.”
“Not when you first started seeing her.” He winced, nearly imperceptibly, but I saw it, and I enjoyed it.
“Look here Chloe--” He took a step towards me.
“Ms. Beckett, if you please!” I emphasized the Ms. MIZ.
“Ms. Beckett.” He emphasized it, too. MIZZZ. “Who I see is none of your business, however, whatever articles you write is ENTIRELY my business. As this is my business. And this magazine’s focus is on being a worldly traveller, not camping in your backyard.”
“DOMESTIC LOCATIONS ARE PART OF THE WORLD!” I was shouting. My voice at top volume. My face burned. I could feel it. Suddenly I realized that he was only inches from me, staring down. My, he was tall. And his chest seemed even broader from up close. His nostrils flared and his breath was hot on her face.
“Nick Meryton? Meet your new feature article writer. Chloe Beckett? Meet your editor-in-chief. I can tell already that this will be a relationship for the ages. The two of you are really going to take this magazine into the stratosphere.”
I turned on Rachel, fuming. Nick Meryton did the same.
Rachel blinked. Looking back and forth between Nick and I. A smile spread over her face. She looked delighted. I couldn’t even speak. For a moment all I could do was breathe to get my rage under control.
“We can finish this meeting at a later date,” I said. “Call me when you’re available,” I said, feeling my throat tightening for no discernible reason. I needed to leave this office, and I needed to leave now. Any control I had was fast slipping from my grasp and I did not know why.
I turned around, without saying goodbye, and fled.
Chapter Two: Away
“Well, that was well done,” Rachel said, her dry tone speaking volumes.
Nick found himself staring at the closed door. He thought it might still be vibrating from how hard Chloe had slammed it. “I don’t need your lip, Rachel.”
“Are you sure about that, because I’ve never seen you react to a new hire like that.”
“Why did you hire her at all? It’s clear that she doesn’t belong here. She’s a grunt. She has no vision. No understanding of the luxury market. Did you see what she was wearing?”
“It was a shirtdress. Perfectly acceptable office attire, I assure you.”
“Perfectly frumpy. Luxury market, Rachel.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Did you not like her dress, or did you not like that she wrote about your teen miss?”
“She was a legal adult.”
“Everyone wrote about your teen miss, Nick. It was a HUGE scandal. She would have been remiss if she didn’t mention it when she worked at that gossip rag.”
“You shouldn’t be hiring writers from gossip rags.”
“Only you would have a problem with someone’s first job. She was fresh out of Princeton and did a terrific job.”
“At a gossip rag!”
Rachel laughed. “That called you out. I don’t understand. You yourself told me that you regretted that girl. That she told you she was older and if you’d known you never would have gotten involved with her.”
“That’s besides the point.”
“And your new hire was the one who exposed you.”
“Besides the point.”
“She was right. And she’s right about the domestic travel. You said you wanted to do a domestic section. That is precisely why I hired her. Because you want to move into the luxury domestic market and give back to communities in the States. We’ve talked about this, so what is your problem—oh.”
“Oh what?”
“You think she’s cute.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s an employee.”
“Mmm. Who called you a pretty boy using his celebrity status to sell copies.”
“Anyone would be offended.”
“You know you’re a pretty boy using your celebrity to sell copies. You’re doing it on purpose.”
“That’s besides the point.”
“It’s not, Nick. She’s sharp. She understands how it works and she doesn’t play games. Just because you’re playing the game and using it to your advantage doesn’t mean she has to like it. She called you on what you’re doing. Oh.” She laughed again.
“What is so funny?”
“She’s got your number, and you can’t use your charm on her! We made a deal that you wouldn’t go after any of our employees. I know exactly what it is. You read her piece on the Adirondacks, her hometown. And you fell in love with her.”
“You are an absolutely ridiculous person. I’ve never met her before.”
“You play the game, Nick Meryton, the fame game, the billionaire playboy game, but you want that thing. That sense of belonging, of home. You’ve always wanted it. You write about it all around the world, about how other people love where they’re from, their land. Their home. You say you’re sharing it with the world, but you want it for yourself, and Chloe? She has it. She knows it. You run away from home, searching for some sort of truth and Chloe knows what it’s like to belong, from the inside. You read her piece. And you want it. You want her.”
“I could fire you.”
“But you won’t, because that would mean you’d have to stay here and take care of your business instead of running away and looking for your answers.”
I did not need to sit and listen to this anymore. I had a magazine to run. I was an important man. I got up to leave. “I should fire you.”
“I love you, too, Nick,” she said, and I didn’t trust her tone at all. It would be the best idea if I got out of there. Got away from her before she could spot the way my heart was racing from meeting that girl. Chloe. Chloe was her name.
* * *
I ducked around the edge of Chloe’s cubicle and snapped my fingers at her, because I knew she would hate it. She stopped typing. I had to be polite, and so did she, but both of us were pushing it. We’d already had multiple screaming arguments until Rachel intervened and forbade us to be anything but polite to each other. We agreed. We would be nice. I would stop being smarmy, Chloe’s word, and she would stop being a pill. My word. But snapping fingers was not on the list of naughty behavior.
“Chloe!” I said. No smarm. Just her name. Her spine stiffened, and I repressed my grin. She stared at the partition and didn’t turn around. We officially called them “pods,” not cubicles. They were the latest i
n open concept office design, but none of us were really fooled by the sleek modern swoop of them and the little alcoves for tech. They were cubicles. And they had no doors. Which meant that Chloe couldn’t keep me out.
But why would she want to? I was the boss. I did not keep the grin off my face but had arranged it into a suitably professional smile before she finally turned around.
“Yes, Mr. Meryton?” she said brightly. And falsely. She eyed her stapler. I was certain she imagined stapling something to my chest. I sat on the edge of her desk.
“Now, now, Chloe, you know we use first names at Worldly Magazine. It’s better for morale for us to treat each other like family.” She pasted a smile on her face. It was a very bad smile. I almost laughed.
“All right, Nick.” I loved the way she said my name, as if she would bite it off between her teeth if given the opportunity. I loved the way I could get under her skin just by being charming to her. She didn’t buy it. She was right not to. But I knew the game, and she knew the game, and she was so bad at it. I had found endless entertainment in needling her for the last two weeks, partly because Rachel had been right. Her stories were top notch. Her research was impeccable. Her instinct for interesting locations and events were right on the mark. And she worked harder than anyone at the office except for Rachel and myself. She was a valuable asset to my magazine and had the possibility of being a real star.