Alpha Billionaire
Page 1
Table of Contents
Alpha Billionaire (Lords of Gotham, #2)
TEASER
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
BOSSY BILLIONAIRE Book Three in the Lords of Gotham series
MEET THE LORDS OF GOTHAM
OTHER BOOKS BY DEBORAH GARLAND
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
HERE’S DEBORAH!
A Love Mistake Romance
Lords of Gotham, Book Two
By Deborah Garland
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TEASER
His vacation. His rules. Tell that to the woman in the black string bikini.
Tristan Hart is the billionaire owner of a luxury NYC hotel, but his ideal vacation is a cruise to blow off steam. He's not expecting to find love, but when a woman falls at his feet (literally) day one, she stirs much more than his sexual desires.
Laney's cruise is off to a terrible start. First, she falls on her face in the lobby, and next, a god of a man picks her up. She's there to seduce her boss, but this guy... WHOA. When a cocktail mix-up pulls Laney further into Tristan’s world, she admits her devilish plan and asks Tristan for a lesson in the seduction game.
Tristan eagerly puts his hands and everything else on Laney, but when their filthy little game starts to feel like more than casual sex, there’s no way Tristan is handing Laney over to someone else.
She’s his and this alpha billionaire always gets what he wants...
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Alpha Billionaire Copyright ©2020 Deborah Garland
Bossy Billionaire Sample Copyright ©2020 Deborah Garland
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by: KUDI-Design
Published by Deborah A. Garland
www.deborahgarlandauthor.com
DEDICATION
For Dawn
Who listened to me whine about getting this book right (years ago) and came up with the idea that other women on the cruise should call Tristan, Tris.
Brilliant, just brilliant.
All my love, always!
CHAPTER ONE
Laney
Laney tripped and performed a spectacular faceplant in front of an entire lobby full of people. Not the best way to start a cruise. You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression. That first impression got blown, didn’t it?
Her fractured mind unscrambled and screamed: Stand up. Pick up your phone. Put your shoe back on. Cry. In that order, please.
Hot tears didn’t cooperate, though. Her stinging eyes blurred her vision. Yet, she still caught Jonathan strolling off without looking back. Pushing off the plush printed carpet, she closed her legs against the New York winter chill that followed her up the gangplank. Thanks to the ridiculously short yellow dress she wore on a dare, everyone behind her enjoyed a view of her bikini wax.
“Hey buddy, your wife is on the floor!” Powerful hands closed around her waist and yanked her to her feet.
Laney’s forehead smashed into the muscular chest of a stranger who yelled over her head, presumably at Jonathan who had barreled onto the ship ahead of her. “I’m not his wife,” she corrected the man and loosened herself from the warm embrace that left a trace of fresh soap and leather stuck in her nose. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay?” the man asked, sliding her phone back into her shaking palm, their skin making contact.
“Yes.” She brushed long waves of hair away from her face, but several strands caught on her lip gloss. Gross. “I don’t know what happened to me there.”
“Here’s your shoe.” The man held it by the heel, and she hoped he didn’t catch the Payless label.
“Thank you.” Laney collected her other scattered belongings as embarrassment flooded through her, hot and fast.
The man kept his hand on her waist while she got her bearings. “If that guy was your boyfriend, he’s a jerk.”
His touch triggered a fire to rise up in her cheeks. “He’s not...” she began, ready to explain Jonathan was her boss. When she glanced at the man’s face, the rest of her sentence couldn’t have been pried from her mouth with a crowbar.
Holy shit. A gasp burned in her chest as crowds of boarding passengers parted around them. Hyperventilating, she mumbled to the Adonis towering over her, “Who...who are you? Do you work here?”
“No.” He slipped on expensive-looking sunglasses, signaling he was ready to get on with his cruise. And robbing her of exquisite and unique golden eyes.
“There you are.” Nikki, her design assistant, bumped against Laney’s back. “You raced up the gangplank so fast I was afraid you’d trip.”
“She did,” Adonis said, maneuvering around them.
“Oh my God. Who are you?” Nikki followed Laney’s stare as she gaped in wonder at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. “Laney, who is this?”
“Have a good day, ladies.” Adonis grasped his Louis Vuitton bag and beat feet to the elevator.
“Who was that?” Nikki took hold of her arm.
“I don’t know!” Laney brushed away the lint stuck to her bare knees, but she’d bet that brown and gold leather case was real and not a Chinatown knock-off.
Nikki steered her away from the rest of the passengers spilling into the cramped holding area. “Where’s Jonathan?”
“He...” Laney spun around to search for him. “I don’t know.”
For Jonathan to not even glance behind him to see if she made it onto the ship, surprised the hell out of her. Just five minutes before they boarded, he’d been his usual suave and flirty self. Then he marched up that gangplank like a man on a mission, forgetting all about her. If he’d turned around and seen her on the floor, of course, he would have stopped. How noble of Adonis, though, to fling harsh words at Jonathan because he’d thought they were a couple.
Feeling embarrassed all over again, she was glad there were thousands of people on the ship. The likelihood of seeing Adonis again was slim to none.
“Okay.” Nikki took charge and collected all of her bags. “It’s just the first day. You have plenty of time to tell Jonathan you want to sleep with him.”
Laney now regretted spilling her secret crush to Nikki. At first, having a wing-girl on this cruise seemed helpful. Now, she worried Nikki might assist too much and push Laney if she got cold feet. I’ll buy a pair of socks.
For weeks, she’d been scratching her head wondering why Jonathan wanted to be on a seven-day Caribbean cruise out of New York the week before Christmas. Ironic, because she wanted to tie him to a bed with a big red bow. But a cruise was perfect. What happened in internationa
l waters, stayed in international waters.
“What time does this thing start moving?” Nikki nudged Laney toward the elevator bank, ripping away thoughts of hot and sexy Jonathan.
“It said the ship leaves at four pm.” She cleared the lust out of her throat. “Why we needed to board at two pm, I have no idea.”
A uniformed agent twisted around and gaped at her and Nikki with disdain. “We don’t board. We embark. And we don’t leave. We set sail!” She raised her hand with a flourish.
Laney snorted in derision. Airports went out of their way to make waiting for a plane as convenient as possible with an absurd variety of food, alcohol, and charging stations. The cruise lines’ pathetic waiting rooms lagged far behind.
“Most folks got here at ten this morning.” A nice-looking gentleman in a blue uniform loaded their bags onto a brass luggage cart without asking. “They want to get an early start.” He winked.
“Early start on what?” Laney asked while Nikki launched into full assistant mode by reorganizing the pile. “Alcohol isn’t free anymore.”
The steward gave her a complete once-over, his eyes lingering on her bare legs. “Just look for the devil horns symbol on stickers. The whole thing’s gone underground,” he whispered. “Don’t forget to wear your fire pin so the men know you’re willing.”
Laney opened her mouth to ask for clarification, but he took off with their luggage. Horns? Fire pins? Willing? He must have her confused with another party group. She, Nikki, and Jonathan were boring textile folks.
Although people who met under a devil symbol and needed a flaming fire pin to show they were willing sounded intriguing. To do what, though?
“What’s your cabin number?” the steward asked over his shoulder.
“Um...” Laney fumbled with her reservation papers.
Nikki barked out the number to their two-bedroom outside suite with a balcony. Laney preferred privacy, but agreed to double up in the event she fell off the rear of the ship. At least Nikki would know if she went missing. Hell, she’d probably convince the captain to turn around and scoop Laney out of the water.
“We’ll take the port-side cars up to your deck.” The steward pushed their luggage down a narrow corridor. “Hold the elevator, please.”
A beautifully sculpted hand smacked the polished door to keep it from closing.
“Go ahead ladies,” the steward said, waving them in.
Inside the dark-paneled elevator, Adonis leaned against the wall, stone-faced with his gaze fixed on her.
“Oh. Hello, again,” she blurted before her brain could stop her.
“Hello.” He matched her tone and her greeting.
From the corner of her eye, she caught the shiny brass luggage cart barreling toward her. Wrenching out of its way forced her body against Adonis’s arm. The man brimmed with heat underneath a gorgeous cashmere coat.
“Excuse me,” Laney said softly, scooching a few inches away.
“No problem.” His eyes lingered on her neck, but never crawled down to her breasts. A first, given her voluptuous D-cups. Was he looking for something specific?
The elevator jumped to a stop and Laney slammed her palm against the paneling to prevent another fall into Adonis.
“Sir, after you,” the steward said to the handsome man. “I have to get the cart out.”
“Ladies, first,” he responded, bowing his head to her.
Laney smiled and prayed she’d make it out of the elevator in one smooth glide. Bracing herself, she stepped gingerly on her six-inch heels.
“You’re just at the end of the passageway, ladies,” the steward said once he lugged the cart off the elevator. His phone buzzed and after a glance, he said, “Oh, shoot.”
“Everything all right?” Nikki asked as Adonis whizzed by them.
“My boss is yelling at me to get back to the holding area. I’m not supposed to give guests special attention. But you guys are our best customers.” He winked again.
Getting this cruise instead of a bonus was bad enough. Having her bags brought to her cabin sooner wouldn’t soften the blow.
“I got this,” Nikki said, already pushing the cart.
“No, I got it.” Adonis reappeared. He slapped a twenty-dollar bill in the steward’s hand then tossed his expensive luggage on top of Laney’s Samsonite special from TJ Maxx.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Nikki snapped her arms down and glared at her. “Let the man push your luggage.”
“What’s your cabin number?” he asked, removing his coat.
Nikki spilled the details while Laney followed, frowning at the ugly taupe wall covering. Mr. A’s high round ass made for a much better view.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
When they reached her and Nikki’s stateroom, Adonis glanced around the passageway. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” He yanked his bag off the cart.
“Yay us.” Laney took out her room key, but Nikki pulled her to the side. “What?” Laney asked.
“That guy stared at you the whole time we were in the elevator. Give it a try.”
“Give what a try?”
“Flirting.”
“Nikki, he’s not...” She noticed Adonis resting his shoulder against the wall glaring at his phone. A hopeful woman would construe that as a stalling tactic. His mumbled expletives implied otherwise.
“You need practice flirting,” Nikki whispered. “Look him in the eye and give him a sexy smile. Then in a seductive tone, say, thank you, see you around, handsome.”
As ridiculous as Nikki sounded, she had an excellent point. Laney had to work on her moves and facial expressions. If nothing else, she’d get free drinks out of it.
“Okay.” Laney flipped her hair, took a step, and fell facedown into her luggage.
Tristan
“WE HAVE TO STOP DOING this.” Tristan lifted the woman off the floor. Again. He should have minded all of these interruptions, but damn, she felt nice. “Tristan Hart, by the way.”
“Laney. Hathaway,” she said breathlessly, regaining her balance.
A stare stretched between them for a palpable moment. Was she there for the same reason he was? The steward had thought so. A newbie, perhaps? Ordinarily, he’d stay far, far away from those. He was there to find his vacation fling, preferably an experienced woman who wanted lots of sex, and nothing but sex. A newbie couldn’t handle him.
In all his years doing this, no other woman smacked him upside the head with such a heart-stopping rush of lust after a few seconds. Touching Laney sent sparks through his body like never before. He felt like something had grabbed and shaken him. He usually closed down his emotions on this cruise. Perhaps it was because she fell and he touched her before he had a chance to disconnect from his world. Surrender his real life for this annual erotic fantasy.
“How’s your knee?” he asked her, pointing hesitantly. “From, you know, the fall.”
When she looked down, waves of glossy brown hair tumbled across her shoulder, the lavender scent overwhelming him. “Fine. Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered and leaned into him like a fantastic secret was coming his way. “These aren’t my shoes. I might be tripping a lot on this cruise.”
Why did he find that so damn adorable? The knight in shining armor in him, perhaps. The real him. Not the tongue-wagging dog he turned into on this cruise. “I’ll listen for any loud thumps out here in the hall,” he remarked, resisting a woof.
“Or screaming.”
Thinking she meant in an orgasmic rush, he dropped his hands to hide a growing erection. “Excuse me?”
“What?”
“What?” His eyes locked on hers. With everything he had, he pushed his thoughts into her brain. Are you hiding a fire pin from me?
Caught in stunned silence, all he did was breathe and stare. Then Laney’s friend tiptoed over, and he could have sworn the blonde gave Laney a gentle push. “I’ll be in the cabin unpacking,” the friend said.
Laney shook her head then stepped back. “Right. We hav
e to unpack. Bye, Mr. Hart.” Her hypnotic blue eyes cast a lingering gaze over her shoulder.
Tristan stayed frozen in that spot until the loud click of Laney’s cabin door knocked him out of his dirty thoughts.
Every year, he boarded the cruise ship in peace without anyone noticing him. He went there to blow off steam. His job and pain in the ass older brother built up a year’s worth of stress. Escaping land hadn’t stopped Luke from flooding his emails about their hotel, though.
After several fumbling tries, he got his key card into the slot and shoved the door open. He immediately frowned at the bland suite and brown carpet. Man, he hated how it reminded him of his own hotel’s guest rooms. Minimalist made sense for the cruise people who didn’t want passengers hiding in their cabin. Not when the alcohol now costs an arm and a leg.
With all the beige surrounding him, Laney and her red hard-case luggage and yellow dress stuck in his mind. He was swamped with misplaced frustration. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the jerk she’d boarded the ship with, the one who’d just kept ambling along when she fell. That dick move sure pissed him off.
When several bottles of hair product flew from the bathroom counter, he realized he’d been slamming shit. He bent down to pick them up and put them next to his shave kit when he caught his reflection in the mirror.
A haggard and shaken man stared back at him.
He should have kept walking and not touched Laney. Weeks of prepping for a cruise that permitted him to check his emotions at the door went to shit the minute he touched her. He couldn’t walk past a woman lying on the floor. Especially one with long legs in a short skirt. Yeah, that’s what he liked. Dark, shiny hair, long and flowing. It stirred his insides the moment he saw her sashaying up the gangplank. The guy she was with had looked familiar, but after one glance at her tight ass, Tristan’s eyes and mind stayed put.
When she fell, and the asshole kept walking, Tristan got ripped out of mindless screwing mode. The real Tristan Hart had been thrust onto the scene. The quiet guy who lived in the shadow of his playboy brother. Except for that one week, where Tristan was the sexual force to be reckoned with.