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

  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.”

  He chuckled, eyes narrowing even further in intent as he looked at her. “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or not.”

  Oh, it’s certainly a compliment, Miranda thought, her heart beginning to pound. With every look, and even with the slight pressure in his touch as he guided her in the slow, swaying waltz – she could tell he was going in for the kill. The problem was, Miranda had a crazy feeling she was going to be very, very easy game…

  “It would be nice to at least know the name of my dance partner, and the man responsible for rescuing my toes from bruising,” she purred, surprised at her audacity.

  Here she was, flirting with a total stranger…and yet, a man thrilling enough, gorgeous enough to make her forget every one of her personal principles – a man dashing enough to make her kick her good-girl image right out of the window. She wanted to leave. Right then. Just grab his hand and run off to somewhere they could be alone, all alone – and she could do with him all the unspeakable things her mind was telling her body to do…

  “My name is Jude. Jude Stone.”

  Miranda paused, his words sinking in like lead. And in moments, her wild, wanton attraction to him was checked, shattered – before finally shriveling to nothing as she went to ice in his arms.

  “Jude Stone? The billionaire?” she breathed, eyes flashing with anger and disbelief.

  “Yes,” he said calmly.

  Miranda gasped, arching away from him in distaste and anger. “Jude. I should have recognized you for a snake the moment I saw you.”

  “It was business, nothing personal.” Jude replied with curling lips. “Just like how you found yourself dancing with Kirk. Was that not purely a business strategy? Whatever you think he can offer you, I can provide ten fold. I destroy men like him every day, Miranda.”

  “Just like you destroyed my father?” she asked through thin lips. “You bastard. Well let me tell you this: the day I ever give in to a man like you will be the day I dishonor my family and all it stands for. And that’s something that’s never going to happen.”

  “My affairs with your father have nothing to do with you and I,” he growled.

  “There is no ‘you and I’ Mr. Stone,” she bit out clearly, finally able to wrench herself from him. “I hope I never have to lay eyes on you again.”

  ***

  “That didn’t go well.”

  Jude didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Carly at his elbow. He could hear the smugness in her tone, but didn’t look her way as he kept his narrowed gaze on the disappearing figure of Miranda Quinn.

  “Obviously,” he replied at last, his tone wry.

  “You’ll forget her, of course?”

  “Never,” he said simply, softly, raising the glass Carly had handed him, to his lips as he saw Miranda exit the ballroom, his last glimpse of her being the gorgeous swaying roundness of her curvy bottom. He felt the beast in his rise to the surface. Getting to talk to her, holding her soft, curvy body close in his arms – had got him wanting her more than ever. In fact, at this point he was ready to do whatever it took to get the luscious Miranda in his clutches – and in his bed.

  He faced his assistant at last, his eyes gleaming with intent. “As to be expected. But now I simply have to give her an offer she can’t refuse.”

  He heard Carly sigh deeply, and heard the resigned note in her voice as she asked, “So what do you have planned?”

  ***

  Miranda couldn't think of last night without shuddering - especially when she'd been so close to making the biggest mistake of her life. The instant attraction, the burn of desire... It had fizzled in a heartbeat when she'd found out his name. Jude Stone.

  To think of how thrilling it had felt to be held in his arms, innocuously in a dance and yet, with a far from innocent burst of lust burning between them...She'd looked into his eyes and had known; he had but to say the word, and she would do his every erotic bidding. Those notions had been so unlike her, totally different from the woman Miranda really was. But in the few moments that the fog of attraction had swirled around her, as briefly as it had lasted, she had known true, animal desire.

  It was a good thing then that she had been flung back down to earth on time. Her father - her brother too, would have had respective fits if they heard that not only had she been dancing with the hated Jude Stone, she had also been willing to bed him. Very willing. And he hadn’t even had to do a thing.

  At that moment, she was staring down at a recent cover of Time magazine, and the bold image displayed there. Ever since last night she'd been doing some serious digging. Prior to the incident of the night before, she'd never had much interest in finding out much about the man who'd hurt her family. It was enough that she knew his name. It had been far too painful to trouble herself with the details.
All she could remember was that she had been at University, about to finish up her finals when her father called to tell her that he'd lost the company.

  That was more than a year ago. And now, for the past several months, she'd been home, trying to be there for her father and yes, her brother too. Wasn't that why she'd agreed to go to that high-flying fundraiser that night? In a show of solidarity, she'd accompanied her brother, had even allowed him to foist her on that creepy man, the financial consultant whiz who was meant to have been a potential backer.

  All that had been pushed to the sight the moment she'd set eyes on the handsome, blonde-haired stranger. Only to discover he was the very snake in the grass.

  She stared down at the magazine cover, seeing those same aquamarine eyes, those sculpted lips, that finely structured nose. The rich and powerful Bust-up Billionaire, Jude Stone. He lived true to his name: crushed rivals and peers with the same ruthless hardness. He was as implacable as granite, and as immovable as a rock. How could she for one second believed herself attracted to him

  Once again, she shuddered, thanking her stars that Jeffery had not been present at the time to see her in the arms of the man he hated so much. Just the mention of Jude Stone’s name was enough to make Jeffery see red. And only that morning, he’d vented his terrible temper on her

  “Why did you do it?” he’d asked in a calm, yet angry voice.

  Miranda had turned to face him, her face burning with guilt. Had he found out? She’d wondered frantically. Had he somehow got to know about her almost-lapse with the hateful Jude Stone? But his next words calmed her – somewhat

  “All you had to do was be nice to him,” he’d growled, referring to Kirk. “He’s a good guy, one of the few who were willing to find a way to get us out of this mess. And you just had to offend him.”

  “Jeff, it wasn’t like I meant to,” she’d said with a sigh. “Someone else asked me to dance, that was it. Besides, Kirk was a terrible dancer.” She’d smiled playfully, hoping Jeffery’s mood would change.