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    Sinful Rewards 7: A Billionaires and Bikers Novella
    Sinful Rewards 7: A Billionaires and Bikers Novella
    Sinful Rewards 7: A Billionaires and Bikers Novella
    Ebook142 pages2 hours

    Sinful Rewards 7: A Billionaires and Bikers Novella

    By Cynthia Sax

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    About this ebook

    Bee Carter has been offered everything she has ever dreamed of—a caring, lasting relationship with a handsome, often charming billionaire; the permanent home she's never had but has always craved; and wealth to buy the designer fashions she loves, support her hard-working mother, and ensure her acceptance by Chicago's elite.

    To obtain what she's desired for so long, she has to do only two things: Walk away from her best friend, a woman who is destined to betray her … and end her passionate nightly encounters with a certain tattooed biker, a former Marine who can never give her what she needs.

    Her answer should be clear, but the heart has a way of complicating even the most straightforward decisions.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateJan 20, 2015
    ISBN9780062354228
    Sinful Rewards 7: A Billionaires and Bikers Novella
    Author

    Cynthia Sax

    USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes steamy cyborg, alien and contemporary romances. Her stories have been featured on TV, in Star Magazine, and on numerous best of lists.She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled monthly newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

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      Book preview

      Sinful Rewards 7 - Cynthia Sax

      Dedication

      To my dear, wonderful hubby for accepting me the crazy way I am, to Zee Hayat, Melissa Weeks, and Jessica Leonard for being so very supportive of Sinful Rewards (tackle hugs), and to Elle Keck for bringing her editing talents and a fresh exciting perspective to this story. You all rock!

      Contents

      Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      About the Author

      Also by Cynthia Sax

      An Excerpt from Holding Holly by Julie Brannagh

      An Excerpt from It’s a Wonderful Fireman by Jennifer Bernard

      An Excerpt from Once Upon a Highland Christmas by Lecia Cornwall

      An Excerpt from Running Hot by HelenKay Dimon

      An Excerpt from Sinful Rewards 1 by Cynthia Sax

      An Excerpt from Return to Clan Sinclair by Karen Ranney

      An Excerpt from Return of the Bad Girl by Codi Gary

      Copyright

      About the Publisher

      Chapter One

      PASSION IS MESSY.

      Hawke’s deep voice rolls through my mind as I sweep broken glass into the trash. This morning, Cyndi, my best friend and roommate, proved my tattooed biker’s insight to be correct. She melted down over her failed relationship with movie star Cole Travers and smashed a bottle of wine against the wall.

      I vigorously scrub the red liquid off the white surface, removing the stain and some of the paint. Judging by the label, the wine must have been another gift from Francois. The former army man feels bad about calling me a whore, his angry words setting off an avalanche of gossip that threatens my future and the safety of the people I care about.

      Hawke is working to control the damage, and Nicolas, my billionaire, has a plan to restore my good-girl image. I’m trying my best not to freak out as my carefully constructed world crashes around my ears.

      My phone buzzes and I glance down at the small screen. It’s Hawke’s number, Boyfriend plastered across the display. I shouldn’t answer, shouldn’t tell him I’m meeting with his rival, shouldn’t encourage him in any way.

      Bee Carter. I press the phone against my heated face, the case cool. I can’t talk for long. I’m meeting Nicolas at his penthouse in thirty minutes.

      At his penthouse. Hawke’s low rumble communicates his displeasure.

      Cyndi is here, I whisper, walking into my bedroom. I didn’t have a choice about the location.

      There’s always a choice, love.

      Is there? I roll my eyes. Does that mean you chose to punch Nicolas Rainer, a billionaire with a team of lawyers at his disposal? That rash decision could have landed you in jail.

      I chose to hit him with my weaker left hand, using a fraction of my strength, Hawke replies. And it wasn’t a rash decision. He was being—

      An asshole. I complete his sentence. I know. He told me.

      Did he tell you what he said? Hawke asks.

      No, and I don’t want to know. I’m not an idiot. I realize their fight was about me. Nicolas likely relayed some of the gossip he’d heard and Hawke retaliated with his fists. He has a plan to stop the rumors about me. That’s why I’m seeing him.

      How much of him are you seeing?

      My lips curl upward, Hawke’s possessiveness thrilling me. He must care a little. I doubt the first step in Nicolas’s plan to redeem my reputation is to seduce me.

      You would never allow that, even if it was. You don’t lose control around him. Hawke, the arrogant bastard, sounds smug. Listen to his plan, sweetheart, but don’t agree to anything until you discuss it with me.

      I’ll discuss it with you. It costs me nothing to agree with him. That doesn’t mean you’ll change my mind. We’re running out of options. Shit. Did I use the word we? I’m running out of options, I correct. Hawke and I aren’t a couple.

      He chuckles. You said it right the first time. Anything affecting you affects me. You’re my girl.

      I’m not your girl, I protest.

      You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart. Hawke calls me on my bullshit, the man’s ability to read me scary. Call when you need me. A click signals the end of the call.

      He assumes I’ll need him, and he’s likely right. I’ve grown to rely on the former marine, valuing his insights and his experience. This scares the shit out of me. I toss the phone on the bed and stomp into the bathroom, smacking my bare feet against the tiles.

      My shower is quick, as I haven’t time to linger. Nicolas is always punctual, and he’ll expect me to arrive at his penthouse at our designated time. I dress speedily, without much thought. The pale blue blouse I don with my black pants and ballerina flats is the sixth-closest top hanging in my closet. That’s why I chose it. That the color matches Hawke’s eyes is a coincidence, nothing more.

      I yank my beautiful silver brush through my hair, loosening some of the long brown strands. My tattooed biker prefers that I wear my hair down, but I’m dressing for Nicolas and he’s more formal. I twist the tendrils into a tight chignon and pin them in place, the style making me look older, more sophisticated.

      This is how I want to appear, cultured and dignified, a woman who fits into my billionaire’s world, who belongs among the wealthy. Clipping my passcard and my phone to the waistband of my pants, I stride into the main room. I will be a classy lady, damn it, earning my place by Nicolas’s side, deserving my safe and secure forever.

      Cyndi’s door remains closed, my roommate taking her sweet time this morning. Her family owns the candy company she’s employed at. She has no concerns about getting fired.

      I toast two bagels, spreading cream cheese on all four halves, topping one half with fresh raspberries and the other three with sliced strawberries. I inhale the sole raspberry-topped half, eating standing up. Then I set its companion on a plate for Cyndi and place the bagel I prepared for Nicolas in a brown bag. My billionaire tries to survive on black coffee, not taking care of his sexy body. This morning, I’ll feed him.

      Because he is my billionaire. I pop an abandoned strawberry slice into my mouth and chew. Hawke isn’t the man for me.

      My fingers close around the dog tags he gave me to hold. He’s broke, unable to help my mom and unable to help me. I can’t risk everything on a lover who can’t afford furniture for his condo.

      Minutes pass, and Cyndi doesn’t emerge from her bedroom. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, dancing in place. Nicolas won’t appreciate it if I’m late.

      Unable to wait any longer, I grasp the bagged bagel in one hand and knock on my best friend’s door with the other. Cyndi, are you okay?

      I hate work. Her voice is muffled.

      Everyone hates work. My lips twitch. That’s why they have to pay us to show up. Cyndi mumbles a reply, her words inaudible. If she’s at the I-hate-work stage of her morning routine, she’ll be in her bedroom for another half an hour. I can’t wait for her. I left your breakfast on the kitchen counter, I relay through the wood. I have to go out.

      Men suck.

      Taking this response as agreement, I stride out the door. The locks buzz behind me, my shoes sink into the hallway’s rich red carpet, and the scent of vanilla fills my nostrils. This condo building is where I belong . . . permanently.

      I press the button for the elevator and the doors open instantly, as though confirming this statement. This is my home. I wave my passcard over the sensor and select the penthouse floor.

      The plastic circle illuminates and I’m gripped by guilt, my stomach twisting into tight knots. Nicolas has given me access to his floor and Hawke, being part of his security team, will know this. He’ll realize this is more than a casual meeting. We’re moving our relationship to the next level.

      If Nicolas’s plan works.

      If it doesn’t work, I’ll end my association with both men and leave Chicago forever. I won’t have a choice. My shoulders slump. I know from my mom’s experience that some gossip never dissipates. She’ll always be known as the wild woman of Happydale. Unless Nicolas saves me, I’ll always be known as the whore of Chicago.

      The elevator ascends excruciatingly slowly, giving me too much time to think, to worry about betraying Hawke, about what will happen if Nicolas’s plan isn’t successful and what will happen if it is successful.

      As I watch the red digital numbers change, I clutch the dog tags I constantly wear. There’s no future for Hawke and myself in either scenario, and I shouldn’t be crushed by this realization. I knew we wouldn’t, couldn’t last. My military man can’t give me the security I need.

      The elevator doors open and the vanilla scent intensifies. I step into the most gorgeous condo I’ve ever seen. Greek columns frame the entrance, stretching from the marble floors to crazy-high ceilings that must require a stepladder to clean. A bust of a bearded emperor guards the space, his expression grumpy.

      I frown back at him, wondering why my billionaire would choose him as a greeter. Nicolas? I call.

      There’s no reply. An eerie ticking noise breaks the silence, the same noise heard in thrillers before a building explodes. Tension stretches across my shoulders, the unoccupied penthouse scary as hell.

      Nicolas must be stuck in a meeting or negotiations or whatever workaholic real estate developers do during the day. I

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