Billionaire Bad Boys: A Collection of Contemporary and Paranormal Bad Boys

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by Calinda B




  Billionaire Bad Boys

  A Collection of Contemporary and Paranormal Bad Boys

  Calinda B

  S.E. Babin

  LaVerne Thompson

  Sharon Coady

  Jude Ouvrard

  Phoenix Daniels

  Reana Malori

  After Glows Publishing

  Fire © Copyright 2017-2018 Calinda B

  The Eclectic Elf © Copyright 2018 S.E. Babin

  Flawless © Copyright 2018 Jude Ouvrard

  Cigar King © Copyright 2018 LaVerne Thompson & Phoenix Daniels

  Losing Control © Copyright 2018 Reana Malori

  Clarity © Copyright 2018 Sharon Coady

  * * *

  Published by Davis Raynes Publishing Group, LLC

  dba After Glows Publishing

  PO Box 224

  Middleburg, FL 32050

  AfterGlowsPublishing.com

  * * *

  Cover by

  Formatting by AG Design & Formatting

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  AfterGlowsPublishing.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  Calinda B

  Fire

  Appreciation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  The Diamond Club

  About the Author

  Calinda’s CONNECTIONS

  S.E. Babin

  The Eclectic Elf

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  4. Two Weeks Later

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Jude Ouvrard

  Flawless

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  The Diamond Club Website

  About the Author

  LaVerne Thompson & Phoenix Daniels

  Cigar King

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About The Authors

  Reana Malori

  Losing Control

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  7. ~ The End ~

  About the Author

  How to Stay in Touch!

  Sharon Coady

  Clarity

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  The Diamond Club

  About the Author

  Books by Sharon Coady

  Note From the Publisher

  Billionaire Bad Boys

  A Collection of Contemporary & Paranormal Bad Boys

  * * *

  Enter a world of diamonds, demons, and desire…

  * * *

  Meet the billionaire bad boys who are used to dominating everything in their world…and sometimes in the world just beyond our senses.

  * * *

  Money, mayhem, and murder? Not a problem. It's all in a day's work for these alpha males who make keeping their cool look so very, very hot.

  * * *

  Love? A heart that can't be bought? What's a man who has always been in control supposed to do in the face of a problem that money can't solve and with the face of a woman he can't get out of his head?

  * * *

  Lose yourself in stories of love, lust, and a little bit of magic from six award-winning USA Today best-selling authors.

  Fire

  The Diamond Club Book 0

  Calinda B

  Appreciation

  Limitless love and thanks to the Official Sweetie Pie, my loving partner, and truly honest guy, John. Thanks to Rainy Kay, my fearless editor! Thanks to Abbie and the rest of the Diamond Club authors.

  And thanks to Ron, as always, just because.

  1

  I’m so screwed. If the elite security intelligence team known as SLAE—Security League Alliance Enterprises—were to can anyone after her latest mission, Savannah figured she’d be first in line. She’d been sent there—along with a small team—to infiltrate, find their target, eliminate said target, and get out of there.

  To unearth the whereabouts of their mark, she’d been assigned the role of posing as a journalist and seducing an Iraqi government official—the guy’s uncle—and winnowing information out of him. She had him on the hook.
She was winning him over. But then, things had gone wrong—extremely wrong.

  Another member of their team—Agent Lambert—had given away her cover. He’d shared top secrets with the Iraqi government. And then he’d gone rogue, falling off their radar. She knew it had been him. She’d seen him meeting with members of ISIS.

  Yet, she’d been the one heaped with blame. Since no one at SLAE would believe their Golden boy would do such a thing.

  Standing in the noisy, bustling, John F. Kennedy New York airport bathroom, her suitcase by her side, purse on her shoulder, she smoothed back her unruly red hair, securing it away from her face with a ponytail band. Images swam through her mind—of slipping out in the night and running for her life to get to transport. She and her team had been shot at as they raced through the streets in the Jeep. And then, when I made it to headquarters, they blamed me. Assholes.

  She tugged at the hem of her tailored suit—SLAE standard attire—and tried to bring order to her unkempt appearance. They should be canning Agent Lambert—if they could find him. He’s the one who compromised the mission. He’s the one who switched teams. I’m certain he joined ISIS. Fucking ISIS! He pulled the plug on our entire operation and then disappeared. Gone, without a trace. The rest of us could have been killed.

  She shivered. She’d only escaped a few, short days ago. All she’d done since then was meet with other agents and high-level officials—more like argue, be questioned, then, ignored, and then chewed out with threats of losing my job—and travel to get back to the states. She hadn’t had time to deal with the emotional fall-out. Now, all she wanted to do was head home to her small apartment in Albany and sleep for a week.

  Anger, sorrow and fatigued churned in her, in one giant, mixed-up stew.

  She bit back her fears of losing her job and her frustration at this whole mission. Get yourself together.

  She hadn't slept for nearly twenty-four hours. And, before that, her only rest was a “doze off between gunshots” kind of slumber in war-torn Iraq. She yawned as if to confirm her sleep deprived calculation. Then, taking her rolling carry-on bag with her, she slipped into a bathroom stall, hung her head, plunked on the toilet, and silently cried. She hated to cry, preferring more of a “stuff and simmer” approach to emotions.

  I’m so screwed, she thought again, yanking squares of toilet tissue from the dispenser. More like fucked. She dabbed her nose and eyes. I need this job. And, SLAE needs to get their shit together and find Lambert.

  Her phone tone echoed through the stall from its nest inside her purse. Shit. She hated when women chatted while on the loo, thinking they were in their own private phone booth. Grappling with her purse to find it, and get the thing to shut up, she yanked it free. The caller ID indicated the SLAE work line. She took a deep breath and slid the green icon across the screen.

  Assuming a rigid posture on the white seat, she said quietly, “Summers here.”

  “Summers, we’re giving you one last chance.” Operations agent Mark Ryan’s voice boomed into her ear.

  A spark of hope lit up her insides. “You are?” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

  She pictured herself leaping on the toilet seat and doing a happy dance.

  “You don’t know what it is yet.”

  “I…you’re right, sir.” Her insides somersaulted into apprehension. She squeezed the wad of snotty tissues in her free hand.

  “We’ve got our hands full investigating this whole situation.”

  As well you should.

  “Nothing you’ve told us conforms with Lambert’s performance and history with SLAE. He’s an exemplary agent.”

  Savannah stiffened, not wanting another ass-chewing. “And yet he’s gone, and someone—not me—compromised the mission.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to be overheard.

  A frigid silence met her ear.

  “Something’s come up here in the states. It needs to be dealt with immediately.”

  Savannah blew out her breath. So, no week of sleep and recovery?

  “Are you somewhere you can talk?”

  Savannah scanned the metal walls of the stall. It certainly gave the illusion of privacy. But, a couple of feet away, women chatted, ran water in the sink, dried their hands in the hand blower, and flushed toilets.

  “No, sir.”

  “Can you get somewhere?”

  “Yes, right away. One sec.” She stood and dropped the soggy tissue in the toilet. The automatic toilet mechanism set off the flush, making a loud gushing sound.

  “Christ, Summers, are you talking to me from the bathroom?”

  “Yes, sir, I…”

  He laughed. A sigh, reeking of exasperation, followed. “Get out of there and find somewhere private. Can you do that much, Agent Summers?”

  “Yes, sir, on my way, sir.” Dragging her bag behind her, she hustled out of the stall and from the room.

  The corridor hummed with travelers. She searched for a quiet corner. When she found one away from prying listeners, she said, “Okay. Talk to me.”

  A bottomless well of silence met her ears.

  “Agent Ryan? Are you there?” When he didn’t answer, she stared at the screen. He’d hung up on her. Was this a test? Did I fail? “Oh, come on!”

  Resisting the urge to throw the phone into the trash can, she stalked toward the luggage retrieval area. I can’t lose this job. I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at.

  At the bottom of the escalator heading to the baggage claim, Adam Franzoni, her usual handler, and longtime friend, waited for her. He brought warmth to her heart, like sunshine after a stormy night.

  He’d been unable to accompany her on this latest mission, and she’d missed him. They’d been friends since her final stay in foster care, as teenagers. They’d both been placed in the same home. When they met, it was as if Kismet had finally smiled on her. They’d been best friends ever since, even landing jobs in the same organization.

  Dressed in khaki slacks and a beige button-down shirt, he stood with his hands folded in front of his slim hips, his handsome face in stoic repose. His sharp gaze scanned the crowded escalator. When he saw her, he brightened.

  She stepped from the moving stairs and made her way toward him.

  “Savannah!” He gave her a non-professional hug before he could stop himself.

  Savannah welcomed the exchange before nudging him away. “You’re a welcome sight.”

  “How was the trip?” he said, reaching for her bag.

  “I can manage my suitcase,” she said.

  He pushed her hand away. “I’ve got it. Relax.”

  She released her grip, handing over the luggage.

  “Was the flight okay?”

  “Sure. I even got to see Paris.” She rolled her eyes and followed him toward the carousel, her low heels clacking along the shiny tiles.

  “That must have been a shock to the system after Iraq.” He kept a firm grip on her suitcase as he wheeled it through a group of college-age kids.

  “Oh, Paris was wonderful.” She scoffed. “I got to see it through eyes that haven’t slept in days.”

  He cast her a sympathetic gaze, pursing his lips. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You know the drill. Debriefings and more debriefings, followed by an ass-kicking or two.” She rubbed her behind. “And I’ve been worried. Do I still have a job? I got a call from Ryan, but he hung up on me.”

  Adam laughed. “He’s got the patience of a toy poodle. Yes, you still have a job, but barely.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “That bad?”

  “‘Fraid so.” He wheeled the bag up to Carousel Two and stopped. “They know it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

  “It wasn’t my fault at all,” she blurted. Her frustration had been building ever since she left Iraq for “debriefing.” She rubbed her forehead. “Agent Lambert went rogue! I think SLAE should be more worried about his actions than mine.”

  Adam flashed her
an indulgent smile. “Yes, but you’re new. He’s got all kinds of awards with the company. He’s got a proven track record. You’re a newbie.”

 

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