Billionaire's Bounty (Plus Size Loving) BBW Erotic Romance

BOOK: Billionaire's Bounty (Plus Size Loving) BBW Erotic Romance
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Billionaire’s
Bounty
BBW Erotic Romance

 

Copyright © 2012, Adriana Hunter

All Rights Reserved

 

Warning:
This book is non-transferable. It is for
your own personal use only. If this book is sold, distributed, shared or given
away, it is considered an infringement of the copyright of this work and
violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extend of the law.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are
solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, including events, areas, locations and situations is entirely
coincidental.

 

Adriana Hunter © 2012 All rights reserved

 

He wanted her.

Who
ever she was, whatever it took, Jude Stone knew he would have his way.
He always did.

She
was dressed in a calf-length, black-sheathed dress, with its broad straps crisscrossing
over her shoulders. She filled out the outfit nicely, her ample curves hugging
the thin fabric. He drew in a breath of sexually charged awareness at this voluptuous
beauty that stood in the middle of the room; totally clueless about the effect
she was having on his long-deprived hormones. Her generous bust seemed to
strain against the bodice, with its heart-shaped cut and revealed a delicious
deep shadow of cleavage. She had to be a 40D, Jude’s well-trained eye decided
– and her five-foot frame served to emphasize further her deliciously
buxom proportions. He took his time to trail his eyes from the top of her
top-knotted hair to her heeled feet, and decided that he hadn’t seen anything
so alluring, so utterly desirable, in a long time.

“Who
is she?” he heard himself ask tersely, cutting through the words of his
assistant who was standing next to him.

His
assistant, the long-suffering Carly, followed the line of his gaze and narrowed
her eyes in recognition.

“Sir,
why do you ask? Because if Miranda Quinn has caught your eye, then I’m going to
have to disappoint you.”

***

Carly
couldn’t help the trace of satisfaction in her voice. She knew her boss –
for whom she’d been working the last nine years – too well. She knew that
look in his eye, understood exactly what he was thinking even without it being
spelled out for her. It was rare, but when she saw that dark, purposeful glint
in his eye, she knew it meant that he’d set his sights on a potential female
acquisition. And he was the type who never could understand that not everything
– or everyone – had to fall into his lap.

Jude
Stone was not just her long-time employer, but he was one of the richest men in
the city. He was known as the “Bust-up Billionaire” because of the way he’d
made his fortunes on ruthlessly leveraged takeovers – turning a thriving
family business into a goldmine. Now, at age thirty-four, he was running a
billion-dollar business empire left to him by his tycoon father when Jude had
been only twenty-five. In the ten years since then, Jude Stone had become a
billionaire several times over – and he didn’t seem ready to slow down
yet.

And
if that wasn’t enough, he had the looks of a god. His face had graced enough
magazine covers, both in the field of business and of style. He was nothing
short of a celebrity thanks to his undeniable physical attributes as well as
his money. People were intrigued by his corporate savvy, and were even more pulled
in by his handsome looks.

He
had links to the top-most politicians, movie stars and business moguls. His
last girlfriend had been one of the top three supermodels in the world –
and the break-up of their one-year relationship had been fodder for the gossip
sheets for months.

Carly
carefully analyzed the target of his interest, and had to admit she was certainly
a voluptuous beauty. Certainly on the curvy side, and was hardly what Carly
would consider his ‘usual’ type. And yet Carly could see where the appeal lay.
The woman known as Miranda Quinn looked confident, at ease in her own skin. Her
poise was evident in every inch of her carriage. Yes, she was certainly quite
lovely, with regular, striking features. Her dark hair was swept up, leaving
her shoulders bare. She stood in her group and talked and laughed, oblivious of
the scrutiny from across the room.

“Her
name is Miranda Quinn? Why does that sound familiar?” her boss mused.

Carly
turned to face him. “Well, for one thing, because you were responsible for
taking over her father’s company,” She told him bluntly. “Her father was Jepson
Quinn, and his company was just another of your bust-ups of last year. So
really, you can’t expect to have any luck with his daughter, can you?”

“Why
do I have the funny feeling you sound pleased about this?” he asked, his tone
still thoughtful. He hadn’t torn his eyes from the subject of their discussion.
Just then, she’d accepted the offer of a dance from a bespectacled,
burly-looking man whose suit seemed to hang on his beefy frame awkwardly. Jude
felt himself scowling, especially when the man drew her closer into his huge
arms than was necessary. She seemed uncomfortable, though she smiled with
forced brightness. Jude saw a grimace cross her face and he figured Mr. Hulk had
trod on her.

“Here,”
he told Carly shortly, handing her his glass.

“What…
Jude
,” she said through gritted teeth,
watching him stride purposefully away. In the direction of Miss Miranda Quinn
and her dance partner. Carly sighed impatiently. In the past nine years of
being his most trusted employee, she’d gone through many emotions: fury,
exasperation, and then affection. He now seemed like her naughty younger
brother that she was consigned to keeping away from trouble whenever she could.

Though
one thing was certain: She wasn’t
sure how successful she’d be at keeping him away from Miranda Quinn.

***

Miranda
wasn’t even sure why she was here. She hated these sorts of
“do’s
”.
After her
family’s
near-ruin, she hadn’t been much of
a social butterfly. But her brother had insisted she showed face at this
fundraising gala, for the same reason she had wished to avoid it: to show that
the Quinn family was still alive and kicking. Ever since her father had lost
his beloved company a year ago, he’d withdrawn on a much-needed vacation to
South
America, and now her brother and her had been left to
pick up the pieces. It had been an uncomfortable situation to live down, but
here she was, being social – and getting her feet smashed in the process.

She
tried not to grimace one more time as her dance partner stepped on her toes
– again. She hoped she wouldn’t be crippled before the night was through.
Kirk was a big beef of a man, and a very nice guy though he couldn’t dance for
squat. However, he was a big-shot financial advisor with all the right contacts
– contacts that Miranda was dearly in need of. But befriending him was
getting to be too much of a risk to her wellbeing, she discovered, feeling
crushed too strongly against his massive frame. He was taking much advantage of
the slow, swaying music to practically squelch her against him, and she gritted
her teeth. If only her brother Jeffrey could take her position right now. Where
the hell was he anyway, she fumed, her eyes scanning the crowded room.

“May
I cut in?”

Miranda
felt herself pause at the sound of that voice. It was deep, clipped and very
refined. A James-Bond kind of voice; more of take-charge mixed with a little
bit of black silk smoothness. She looked up quickly, and jammed eyes with the
hottest specimen of male flesh she had ever seen.

He
was smiling at her, his hunky quality further magnified by that sexy tilt of
his lips. His aquamarine eyes were startling in his gorgeous face, which had
finely chiseled planes and edges. He was also quite tall, at least six feet,
and dressed impeccably in a dark jacket that looked like it was molded to his
athletically built frame. Miranda blinked, unable to register much except:
holy shit, he’s gorgeous
.

“Sorry
pal, not happening,” Kirk, her partner, said with a cool smile, looking over
his shoulder at the blonde-haired man behind him.

“Oh
I insist,” the newcomer drawled. “Because someone needs to spare the lady years
of physiotherapy after you’ve finished crushing her feet.”

Miranda
bit down the giggle that almost burst from her lips, seeing Kirk’s furious expression.
“Now look here…” blustered Kirk, but Miranda chose that moment to slip out of
his arms.

“I’d
be honored to dance with you,” she murmured, meeting the triumphant gaze of her
“rescuer”. She saw Kirk’s face go red, before he stalked off angrily. Well,
there goes my hope of ever winning aid from Kirk’s firm, she realized –
and decided she didn’t feel even a twinge of regret. Her brother, Jeffrey would
have to do his own dirty work and make his own contacts.

Besides,
it was all worth being able to glide into the arms of the best looking man in
the room. She looked up at him as they drew closer, the proximity necessary due
to the tight squeeze on the ballroom dance floor. It took moments for her to
realize he was a great dancer, as he moved with manly grace while keeping her
in a dangerously intimate embrace. She could feel every outline of his powerfully
built frame, her own soft body reacting in ways she couldn’t remember it doing
in a long time. Kirk had held her just as closely and she hadn’t felt this
breath-stealing sensation, like she was running short on oxygen supply. She
felt his fingers dip into the flesh of her waist, seemingly searing through the
fabric. Her hand on his shoulder itched to dig deeper, savor the play of muscles
that hinted from beneath his tailored jacket.

“Thank
you,” she finally said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as breathless as she
felt. Up close, he was almost painfully good-looking, every feature appearing
to have been carved by loving hands. There was something familiar about him,
and she wondered why that was. She was certain that she wouldn’t have forgotten
if they’d ever met before. This wasn’t the kind of man that could ever slip
from memory, she felt.

“Trust
me, it’s my pleasure,” he said in that skin-tingling voice of his. He could
tell her anything in that voice, and Miranda had the funny feeling she’d
instantly obey. For example, if he suddenly asked her something crazy, like
“will you go to bed with me – tonight?” she was sure she’d comply first,
think later.

For goodness’ sake, girl
! Miranda told herself with
hidden annoyance. He might be the most handsome face you’d seen in a long time,
and he’s certainly packing a lot of appeal – but you need to keep your
feminine urges in check. Whoever this guy was, he was probably way out of
reach, totally out of your league in many ways. Everything about him seemed to
exude power, magnetism, and an almost predatory undertone, which warned her to
instinctively be on her guard.

Easier said than done.

“Do
we know each other?” she asked lightly, eyes scanning his gorgeous face for any
clues. He seemed to look thoughtful for a moment.

“You’re
not a woman I’d let slip from memory easily,” he told her in like tone, and she
shivered to feel his startling eyes rake swiftly over her. “So no, I’m sure we
don’t.”

“Maybe
on TV, then,” she added teasingly. “You certainly have the face for it.”

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