by Erika Rose
Table of Contents
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
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
The Billionaire's Embrace
By Erika Rose
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 Erika Rose
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.
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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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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Teaser
Prologue
Fawn is on a journey to find herself She might just find love on the way
Fawn DiMaggio is a chart-topping, award-winning pop artist who has taken the world by storm. Exhausted after a whirlwind world tour, Fawn realizes that her music doesn’t fulfill her like it used to. Desperate to rediscover herself, Fawn flees to the Hamptons to rekindle her passion.
Seth Northman is the heir to a billion-dollar hotel chain. He avoids responsibility like it’s his full-time job. Unwilling to admit that his life feels just as empty as Fawn’s, Seth fills his time with parties and an endless parade of women.
But everything changes when Seth and Fawn’s eyes meet across the dance floor.
As their shared love of music draws them ever closer, they may just discover their true passion...
CHAPTER 1
“I’ll have the Caesar Salad please.” Fawn DiMaggio asked the waiter. She kept her head down and didn’t make eye contact. Luckily her long black hair hid most of her face.
“Organic Link Salad for me and can you bring us two bottles of Evian. Sparkling.” Jean Simms all but ordered the waiter. Her platinum blonde hair was tied into a loose knot at the top of her head. Her make-up perfectly applied including her signature red lipstick. Even on holiday she was perfectly groomed.
Fawn could hear the restaurant of the country club filling up for lunch behind her. The air was tinged with conversation and expensive perfume. She loved watching people, a habit she had sacrificed when she had become famous and people started watching her. For that reason she didn’t turn and look, avoiding the risk of being recognized all together.
They sat at a corner table overlooking the green, with her back to the restaurant patrons. She had been in the Hamptons since Monday and was grateful when Jean had arrived on a surprise visit the day before. If it wasn’t for Jean she would’ve spent her Friday hidden in the suite at the luxury hotel she was staying in, not lunching at an upscale Country Club.
After her sell-out world tour she needed some down time away from the constant fame and fans that consistently surrounded her back home in California.
It had been four days since anyone had recognized her as FAWN, the freshest and most successful voice in pop music. With two AMA’s (and fingers crossed a Grammy on the way), Fawn was starting to feel the pressure. After spending the last few months on her world tour, she needed some time away from the pressure and the fans. She had told her manager she was going off the grid for a few weeks.
Jean was the only person who knew where she was, Fawn trusted her enough to know she wouldn’t breathe a word about her whereabouts. Fawn hoped to keep it that way.
“This is so classic, don’t you think Fawn? Having lunch in a country club in the Hamptons.” Jean said as she inspected her perfect French manicure.
“We have country clubs in California.” Fawn answered as she watched people move around on the green below them.
“I know, but this is better. It’s not crawling with social climbers like back home.”
Fawn had to laugh; Jean herself might be called exactly that by some people. She was a make-up artist for the rich and famous. She made enough money to shame some actors. To book Jean for an appearance you had to call in at least three months in advance. How she managed to join Fawn for a few days was still a mystery. But because Jean wasn’t a famous face, she was still seen as a social climber by those who were.
“Hey, at least I don’t latch.” Jean frowned at Fawn’s laugh before explaining, “I just mean that people with old money is different than those with new money. It’s like they don’t have to flaunt it like some actors, or be pretentious. Almost like they were born with class.”
“What, and we don’t have class?” Fawn said biting back another laugh.
“Says the girl that danced in her pj’s last night, singing karaoke with a minibar scotch in her hand.” Jean cocked her browed and smiled at her friend as the waiter arrived with their salads and water.
Fawn laughed at the memory. “That was fun; I can’t remember the last time I sang without anyone instructing me about pitch.” Fawn briefly looked up to thank the waiter before turning her back towards the restaurant again. It felt good to be out and about without any fans hovering. If she could pull off today maybe she could go out more often while she was in the Hamptons.
She scooped some bacon onto her fork and bit in. The salty crunchy explosion in her mouth caused her to moan with approval.
“Fawn! Does your manager know you’re eating bacon?” Jean asked exasperatedly forking through her own plate.
“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Besides I’ve been on a diet for five years, I don’t think a few days off can hurt anyone.” She bit into more bacon sprinkled with Parmesan cheese and wondered not for the first time if the constant diets, workouts and facials were worth it. Thirty-forty years ago music was actually about the music, not the waist size of the person singing it.
“It’s your body.” Jean shrugged as she chewed on some organic lettuce.
“Besides, why don’t you spoil yourself for a change? When’s the last time you had bacon?” Fawn challenged, holding her fork in the air.
“Honey, I can’t risk a breakout with all that animal fat. I’m doing you-know-who’s make-up when I get back on Sunday. How can she trust me if I look like a spotted teenager?”
Fawn knew who J
ean was talking about. One of the most famous actresses in Hollywood had booked Jean for four weeks starting on Sunday. She had accepted a role in a new feature film on the condition that Jean did her make-up. Part of Jean’s contract stipulated a confidentially clause. Fawn was the only person in Jean’s life that knew who’s make up she was doing.
The hair on the back of Fawn’s neck tingled, that distinct feeling you get when someone is watching you. She felt the dread settle over her, someone had recognized her.
She rubbed her hand over her forehead, waiting for the fan to approach. She looked towards the bar, to make sure her security guard Dom was still in position if she needed to get out fast. Instead as she looked up she got caught in the steel gaze of man sitting a few seats away from Dom.
She couldn’t draw her eyes away from his. Through her peripheral vision she saw his sun blond hair was long, grazing the collar of his shirt, his fringe hung over his forehead in an arrogant way. His lips were thin, and closed. Not even a hint of a smile.
Fawn felt the flicker of attraction as she heard Jean talking, not comprehending a single word.
His jaw was strong and broad with at least two days bristle on it. The sun had kissed his skin, giving it a copper glow. From where Fawn sat two words came to mind. Spoilt and Player. She didn’t need either. She’d had both.
Stubbornly she broke the eye contact and focused on her salad instead.
“Wow! He’s quite hot.” Jean said teasingly.
“Who?” Fawn asked distractedly.
“The hunk you just had a stare down with.” Jean cocked a brow.
“Oh, please. He probably just recognized me and I gave him my best stay away look.”Fawn said vaguely.
Jean laughed as Fawn pushed her salad away from her. “Looks like the only thing that’s gone away is your appetite.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Fawn said as she propped her right elbow on the table and used her hand to shield her face.
“Oh, I’m not honey. He’s coming over and he's bringing the Greek God with him.”
“Greek God?” Fawn whispered confused.
“The one that sat next to him that you clearly failed to notice during your stare down.”
“Ladies.” His voice was as smooth as Fawn had guessed. Laced with cockiness. She felt the spark of attraction and ignored it, focusing on her Evian instead.
“Hello.” Jean cooed as the men stood next to their table. “Care to join us?”
“Sure.” The other voice was deeper.
She heard chairs being pulled out as the men sat, and knew she couldn’t be rude for much longer. If they did recognize her, she’d simply excuse herself and head back to the hotel.
Looking up she found that steel gaze still watching her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said softly waiting for them to ask if she was FAWN.
“You girls aren’t from around here are you?” The Greek God asked.
Jean laughed. “It’s that obvious?”
Steel eyes smiled at Fawn, she felt the punch of attraction hit her straight in the gut. Even his teeth were beautiful. Seeing him up close, the blonde hair and strong jaw reminded her of a wayward Viking. All strength and danger. “We’re locals; we pretty much know or know of everyone that lives around here.”
“Holiday or business?” Greek God asked Jean.
“Holiday, strictly no business.” Jean preened.
“Well since you’ve got nowhere to be, how about you join us for a game of golf?” Steel eyes asked Fawn. The challenge clear in his eyes. He expected her to decline.
If he knew who she was he would’ve said something by now, besides she was on holiday, not that she knew much about golf, but what harm could a game with two attractive men do?
For the first time Fawn looked up meeting his steel gaze head on. “Sure.”
“What? Fawn we don’t even know how to play. Besides I’m wearing sandals.” Jean countered from beside her.
Fawn smiled wickedly. “I’m sure these boys won’t mind helping us a bit. Your sandals are just fine.” She still hadn’t broken eye contact with steel eyes when she held out her hand. “Fawn Di Maggio and this is Jean Simms.” She waited for recognition to dawn in his eyes; instead the heat between them was palpable.
As his strong hand closed around her smaller one, Fawn quickly retracted. She had never had this many sparks with anyone. He grinned at her before saying. “Seth Northman, and this here is Stefan Kelson.”
Fawn smiled to herself, what were the chances of his surname being Northman after she had just compared him to a Viking? Watching him, she still didn’t see any recognition dawn in his face. This afternoon could be fun after all, Fawn thought as met the challenge in his eyes.
“Right, so do you know anything about golf?” Stefan asked as he climbed out of the golf cart at the first hole.
Stefan and Seth insisted the girls wouldn’t need clubs, they could use theirs. Stefan and Seth took the bags from the car and set them down on the lawn.
Fawn and Jean smiled at each other before Jean said. “We know you need to hit the ball.”
All four of them laughed before Seth spoke. “Then let’s do this. Jean I’ll take care of Fawn and Stefan can help you?”
Jean smiled flirtatiously at Stefan. “If you can handle me.”
Stefan grinned as he took out a club. “We’ll see soon enough.”
Seth collected a club and walked towards the pitching point. “Come on Fawn, I’ll go first, so watch and learn.”
Fawn walked closer and stood a little behind Seth as he lined up the ball and his shot. She watched the muscles bunch in his shoulders before he hit the ball. Fawn walked with him to where the ball landed and watched him expertly hit it a few more times before sinking it. As they walked back to Jean and Stefan, Fawn asked. “Have you been playing long?”
“You could say that.” Seth smiled.
“Seth! You just got a birdie.” Stefan called out as they approached.
“A bird? You didn’t hit a bird?” Fawn asked confused.
Seth smiled at her before explaining. “The expected number of strokes is called par, if you hit a birdie, you hit one stroke less that the expected strokes.”
“Oh.” Fawn said frowning. “Why do they call that a birdie?”
Seth laughed the sound rolling over her. “I don’t know Fawn; maybe someone did hit a bird. Come on, your turn.”
Fawn approached the spot where Seth had started and hoped she could also hit a Birdie. She took the golf club like one would a baseball bat, and lifted it high to swing.
“Wow slow down tiger! You’re going to kill someone!” Seth laughed as he approached her.
Fawn felt him stand close behind her. “Hold the club on the ground in front of you.” Seth said over her shoulder.
Fawn did as she was told before being shocked when Seth’s foot slid between hers and nudged them further open. “You need to open your legs to get the right balance.”
She felt her face flame up at the suggestiveness of his tone. She had barely recovered from the intimate way he spoke when his hands settled on her hips, pulling them slightly back. Fawn could’ve sworn she had just grazed his crotch with her ass. If this was the game he was playing, she could play it as well.
Fawn loosened her arms. Bounced on her knees once before pushing her butt out a little more and wiggling it. She felt the heat of his groin behind her and smiled as she innocently asked. “Like this?”
She heard a soft groan before Seth answered. “Yes, like that.”
Fawn wasn’t even aware of Jean and Stefan telling them to get a room from the side. She was only aware of Seth standing behind her, his hands still on her hips and his breath close enough to feel the heat.
Seth’s hands slid down her arms until they reached her hands. “Here you need to line up your thumbs like this.” His strong hands slowly adjusted her hold so that her thumbs were aligned. She felt him sniff at her neck; a shi
ver rang down her spine. “You smell good.” He cleared his throat before saying a little louder. “You’re ready to strike.”
Fawn pulled back and hit the ball, watched it fly over the green but still a long way from where Seth’s ball had landed on the first shot. “Not bad for the first stroke.”
It took her six more strokes to sink the ball, she would not have minded more. Seth was behind her or around her every step of the way.
As Stefan helped Jean Seth spoke beside her. “You’ve got good aim.”
Enjoying herself Fawn smiled. “I aim to please.”
They had reached the fourth hole and Fawn had become more comfortable holding the golf club and the challenge she’d answered in Seth’s eyes when they had invited them for the game.
Fawn watched Seth like a hawk with every stroke he took, trying to mimic it when it was her turn. Seth had explained to her a little more about golf phrases like par and handicap.
She hit her final stroke on the fourth hole and was exuberant to hear she had stroked 1 above par.
By the time they reached the eighth hole Jean pulled Fawn aside. “Listen, I’m sorry to have to do this. But I just got a call. I need to be back in California tomorrow morning.”
“What! Why?”
“They’re starting to shoot earlier due to the weather forecast. If I fly out in a couple of hours I’ll still be on time, otherwise I lose the whole contract.”
“Okay, let’s just say goodbye then we’ll go get your things at the hotel.”
“No, don’t! You’re having fun. Stefan is on his way to meet a client, he can drop me at the hotel and I’ll get a cab from there.”
“Are you sure?” Fawn asked. She had hoped to spend more time with Jean before she started on the shoot.
“Yes, I’m sure. You haven’t had fun for a while. Enjoy yourself, besides he’s really into you.”
“We’ll I’m not planning on having that type of fun.” Fawn countered.
“You’re young and you’ve worked your butt off these past few months on tour. Why not?”