The Billionaire's Christmas Bride, page 1
part #1 of Bad Boy Billionaires Series
The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride
L. Nicole
The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride
Copyright © 2019 by L. Nicole
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WARNING: This book contains sexual situations, violence and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 and above.
Editing by: Read by Rose
Created with Vellum
Contents
Synopsis
1. Gabriella
2. Nikolai
3. Gabriella
4. Nikolai
5. Gabriella
6. Nikolai
7. Gabriella
8. Nikolai
9. Gabriella
10. Nikolai
11. Gabriella
12. Nikolai
13. Gabriella
14. Nikolai
15. Gabriella
16. Nikolai
17. Gabriella
18. Nikolai
19. Gabriella
20. Nikolai
Epilogue
Epilogue
Also by L. Nicole
About the Author
Nikolai Serepova took one look at Gabriella and knew he had to have her. He was too old for her, but it was like lightning struck him when she smiled and there was no way he could walk away. He’s been biding his time and finally, the moment is right. He has Gabriella right where he wants her. He’s going to claim her and nothing will stand in his way.
Billionaire Bad Boys are just what the series title implies. They’re filthy rich, and well, just plain filthy in general. They know what they want and when it comes to women, once they find ‘the one’ there’s no way they will walk away. If you like safe reads with insta-love, Alpha men, and a definite happily ever after, then you’re in luck, because that’s exactly what’s inside a L. Nicole book.
1
Gabriella
His eyes are one me again. I can feel them despite the crowd between us.
I take a sip of my champagne. That’s probably a mistake, because I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, but I always hate these parties. I wouldn’t be here at all, but my father demanded my presence. When George Hawthorne the Third requests you show up, you just do it. You don’t ask, you don’t try to deny him. If you do, he’ll make you pay for it. My stepfather is really good at making you pay. He’s made my mom pay every day for marrying him.
At the thought of the pain my mother suffers at his hands, I take another drink. My mother and I aren’t close, and I will never be anything like her, but I hate how she chooses to live. She sold her soul to the devil—the devil being step-daddy-dearest. She knew what she was doing, but she was tired of living without money.
I shouldn’t complain about that. After all, I get a sweet little allowance every month. I’d give it up tomorrow, however, if it meant I’d never have to see George again. Since that’s quite clearly never going to happen, I figure it’s a just payment.
These parties are usually the bane of my existence. Rich, snobby people, all pooled together in one place, playing I have a bigger pocketbook than you. I nod, smile, and appear the loving stepdaughter for photos when I have to. Then, I leave as soon as I can.
I stare up at the clock, because I know that option isn’t going to be available until I make it through this dinner. I walk outside on the balcony overlooking the grounds, needing a moment of fresh air before I have to go place nice with George and Mom. There are times when the urge to run away becomes so strong that I can think of nothing else. But, the truth is, there’s no running away from my life. George keeps a tight leash on all aspects of his life and that very much includes me.
I look out, the air cool, but it is almost Christmas. We live too far south for snow, and that makes me sad. Maybe a blanket of crisp, white snow would help disguise the ugliness of the people gathered here. I watch as they mill about the courtyard, so freaking pretentious they stink of it. They’re all alike. Every last, single one of them are just like my stepfather and mother.
With the exception of one man.
Nikolai Serepova.
He’s unlike anyone here. In truth, he’s unlike any man I’ve ever met before. He’s a lethal combination of sex and sin. Shrouded by darkness so mysterious that you’re drawn to it, even knowing that if you get too close it will kill you.
That’s why I steer away from him. I have enough problems in my life, without courting the danger that is Nikolai. I’m not stupid, and I know that playing it safe is the best way to navigate this world that I live in.
Except tonight I’m not safe.
Tonight I’m in more danger than I could ever explain and all because I caught his eye.
Even now, I feel the heat of his stare hitting my back, warming my skin despite the distance between us. I feel my heartbeat speed up in reaction. I’d be lying if I said Nikolai doesn’t excite me.
He does.
I think Nikolai has the power to excite every woman from sixteen to eighty. Maybe it’s because of that hint of danger that is draped over him like a second skin, or maybe it’s just that he truly is beautiful. He stands well over six feet, has jet black hair that is wavy and unkempt, but in a way that it looks like it’s had a lover’s hand brushing through it for days. His eyes are black as midnight and so intense that you could drown in them. His body is impressive, filling out his perfectly tailored suit in a way that makes a woman go weak in the knees, imagining what he looks like underneath it. Then, there is his accent.
He speaks perfect English, but his accent makes the words sound like poetry slipping from a lover’s tongue.
Not that I’ve ever experienced this directly. I’ve only heard it from a distance, preferring to keep safe in my little bubble. Still, the temptation to reach out and tempt the devil to play with me has been there.
But, I’ve ignored it.
Wisely ignored it. Much like I’m doing right now. I will my heart rate to fall back to normal. I’ll get through dinner and do my best to charm whatever bored businessman that my stepfather is trying to con out of his money, flash my cleavage when the opportunity arises, cross my legs and sound hopelessly inept. I’ll play my part and ignore the heated stare from the one man I want and shouldn’t. And then…
Then, I will run back to my safe little apartment. Far away from men like Nikolai Serepova.
2
Nikolai
She’s meant to be a distraction.
And it’s working.
I saw the way my adversary spoke with her, hurriedly, stiltedly, in the corner. His hand capturing her wrist and holding it much too tightly. I saw the look of pain flash over her features before she hid it from view, replacing the hurt with a look of cool aloofness that intrigued me. She hates her stepfather. That much is completely obvious. Still, she is here, playing her part.
What is her motivation?
Money?
I can understand that. In my experience, most people are elemental, reacting on one fundamental rule.
Money makes the world go around.
Everyone has a price. It’s just a fact.
Still, the woman teasing me in that golden, nearly see-through, dress—that is too short to be decent and too long for my liking—is a mystery to me. One that I can admit I definitely wish to unravel.
This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed Gabriella Alvarez. Hell no.
Not even close.
I’ve made a pastime out of getting to know her. I have a folder locked in my desk that is full of her basic information.
Age?
Twenty-one. Young, but definitely legal.
Name?
Gabriella Marie Alvarez. Named after her grandmother.
Parents?
Heather Mayes Alvarez Hawthorne and Thomas Alvarez. The couple was married for ten years until Heather left Thomas, a landscaper in Southern California, for one of his employers—one George Hawthorne, a man ten years Heather’s senior and with a soul so black that it almost makes mine look white.
Apparently, Heather has a very elemental price, one she accepted, even if it meant marrying the devil to achieve it. She wanted to be rich. She achieved her dream, but I wonder if she liked the way that turned out.
Is her daughter so easily swayed?
If I threw a couple of million her way, would my little pretty dance for me the way I want her to?
The idea intrigues me, not that it is material.
I want Gabriella. I haven’t been watching her, studying her, and making plans for the last year without a purpose. I have her stepfather by the balls and to get free he’s going to give me the one thing he has that I want.
Gabriella.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
3
Gabriella
“You look… cold.”
Of all of the ways I imagined Nikolai Serepova approaching me, this wasn’t it. His hand settles against my bare back and immediately my body stiffens in response. It feels as if electricit
“What makes you say that?” I ask, amazed that my voice doesn’t betray my nervousness. I turn to face Nikolai and the first thing I notice is that he is even better close up. Not that I think that’s a good thing. I shouldn’t be in Nikolai’s private space. He chews women up and spits them out.
“Perhaps the fact that I can see your ass through the fabric of your dress,” he responds quietly, his Russian accent as beautiful as the rest of him. It almost sounds like he’s chastising me, which I find curious, but steadfastly ignore.
“It’s an illusion of the fabric,” I tell him, with a small grin. “Trust me my ass is safely hidden.”
That’s mostly the truth. The fabric is sheer, but the glittery underlay is black, but made of lace so it is a somewhat transparent. You don’t see the skin of my ass, but you definitely see the outline and the fabric is definitely clingy.
“Trust me, there is nothing hidden,” he retorts and as if to prove his words his hand slides down my back to cup my right cheek.
“You should move your hand,” I warn him, my throat suddenly dry.
“I happen to like where it’s at,” he counters, and for some reason it almost feels like we’re in a tug of war, a matching of wits and I have a very bad feeling Nikolai will devour me. “Sometimes the landscape is so beautiful that it must be protected as well as admired,” he adds and I ignore the quiver that sends through my heart, or the beat it seems to skip because of it.
“But, I don’t like where your hand is and the last time I checked, I’m still the owner of this particular landscape, Mr. Serepova.”
“Nikolai,” he says, still not moving his hand.
“I should be going. My stepfather will be wondering where I am,” I tell him, excusing myself. My heartbeat quickening as I look into his eyes. I’ve heard the others talk about Nikolai Serepova as being ice cold. They say he has no emotions whatsoever, that he is cold, calculating and strikes without warning. All I feel is heated and that heat is reflected in his eyes.
There’s definitely nothing cold about him right now.
“Do you always do what your stepfather demands of you?” he asks, clearly ignoring my attempt to leave.
“Only when I have no other choice,” I tell him truthfully, even though I probably shouldn’t.
“What are his demands tonight, Gabriella? Are you here to distract? Get the sheep to invest in George’s latest scheme?” His voice sounds so bored and cynical. Then again, he has my stepfather pegged, so he has a right to be cynical.
“I have no idea what you mean,” I respond with an easy shrug.
“Don’t lie to me, Princess. I don’t want lies between us ever.”
His words feel heavy, weighted and they make my heart and imagination run away with me. I shake my head to clear it.
“There’s nothing between us, Mr. Serepova,” I deny.
“Now, I think we both know that’s a lie, don’t we, Princess?
“Why do you call me that? I don’t like it,” I tell him and I think I feel fear blooming in my chest, because I don’t miss the gleam that flashes in his eyes. The last thing I need is for Nikolai Serepova to picture me as a challenge.
“Because you are regal, made to be a princess. In fact, I’m going to make you my princess.”
“You can’t make me anything, Mr. Serepova.”
He studies my face and I have the strangest sensation that he finds me amusing.
“We’ll agree to disagree, sweet Gabriella,” he says and maybe I should breathe easier at his easy acceptance. Except, his hand begins moving up my body, his fingers grazing over my dress and skin are light and teasing, but they feel like pure heat wherever they touch. I don’t speak—I barely breathe—as his hand somehow makes its way slowly from my ass to my neck. Then, his thumb is sweeping gently back and forth across my cheek, his eyes growing so dark they look like liquid. There’s this connection between us, an undercurrent that I’ve never experienced before and I have a feeling I never will again, at least with anyone but Nikolai. My body feels alive, my mouth dry, the inside of my thighs damp with excitement and goosebumps are scattered across my skin. I lick my lips, swallowing as I try to find my bearings. I need to walk away. I’m on dangerous ground here.
“Dinner is starting,” I murmur, unable to grasp any other words. I have no idea if they are really starting dinner, but it’s an excuse and I’m going to take it. I move to turn away, but he tightens his hold on my neck, his thumb still stroking my skin.
“You want me.”
Three little words. Three words coming from his deep voice that make it even harder to breathe.
“I don’t,” I refute, not wanting him to know the truth.
“Your mouth denies it, but your body proves you a liar, Gabriella,” he says.
“I don’t know what—”
I stop talking when my gaze follows his as he looks down at the front of my sheer dress. Clearly my hard nipples are swollen, distended and on display. I really should have thought twice about this dress tonight.
Before I can say anything, maybe even run away screaming, Nikolai surprises me by whisking off the jacket to his suit and draping it over my shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, holding the jacket together to hide my breasts and doing my best to ignore how it feels to be enveloped in Nikolai’s cologne. Good Lord, it should be against the law for a man to smell this good…
“Hiding what is mine,” he says and it feels like my stomach drops at his proclamation. I’ve not only caught Nikolai’s attention, I have a feeling I’m not getting away from him…
4
Nikolai
“I hope my daughter isn’t bothering you, Nikolai,” George says.
He sounds like he’s joking, with a fake smile plastered on his pale face. But, I don’t miss the look of censure he throws Gabriella. I also don’t miss the way her body tightens as we approach him. I’ve rolled the sleeves up on my jacket to make her comfortable, but also made sure her body was no longer on display. Some things a man wants to keep to himself.
My hand is on her back and I keep it there, partly because I want to stay connected to her and want her to get used to my touch. Mostly, I want to remind her that she’s not alone. I don’t like the idea of Gabriella being intimidated by anyone.
“Not at all, your stepdaughter is quite entertaining George.”
I keep my voice cordial, it’s taken years of practice to keep my irritation and anger from showing. I manage it quite well these days, but with Gabriella involved, it’s definitely testing my limits to talk with this idiot.
“She has her uses,” he laughs. “In fact, I was just telling Stanford here that you’re attending the university and majoring in economics, Gabriella. That’s what Stanford specialized in and he’s made quite a name for himself,” George says. “You two should have a lot in common.”
My hand on Gabriella tightens in reflex.
The old bastard.
He knows what he’s doing. There’s no way in hell she has anything in common with Stanford. I might be older than Gabriella, but Stanford is at least sixty.
“Is that so?” Gabriella replies, her voice lacking any of the fire it had when her and I talked earlier. It sounds dead and I instantly hate it.
“It is. I’d love to spend some time getting to know you, Gabriella,” Stanford says, and I move so that my body is between the two of them. If Stanford thinks for one minute he’s getting his hands on her, he needs to think again.
“Let’s retire to the grand dining room,” George interrupts, probably picking up on the tension, since he casts a worried gaze in my direction. He should be worried. He should be very worried. “There are some men I’d like to introduce you to, Nikolai. I’ve taken the liberty of seating you with them. They wanted to talk to you about your shipping business. Gabriella give the man his coat back and you can show Stanford how to find the dining room after giving him a tour of the courtyard. I was telling him how you took lead in the design. Not sure why you borrowed a jacket anyway. It’s hotter than hades here,” he mutters and I feel the finest of tremors move through her body.
