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Her Beast of a Billionaire Boss (Billionaire Bachelor Cove)




  Her Beast of a Billionaire Boss

  Billionaire Bachelor Cove

  Lucy McConnell

  Orchard View Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by Lucy McConnell

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Free Book Offer

  Her Beast of a Billionaire Boss

  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

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Free Book Offer

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  Her Beast of a Billionaire Boss

  Billionaire Bachelor Cove

  This clean romance will sweep you away to a castle where maids do your laundry, a cook makes lobster dinner, and there's a beauty parlor in the basement.

  Welcome to The Cove

  With heavy iron gates, two security stations, and a groundskeeper's cottage, The Cove has everything a billionaire could ask for in a home. Dubbed Billionaire Bachelor Cove because of the resident's single status and income portfolios, The Cove is the perfect place to hide away from the world. But, as the residents soon find out, they can't hide from love.

  Her Beast of a Billionaire Boss

  When Bella Creer’s father has a heart attack and is unable to finish his contract for Adam Moreau, a ruthless lawyer based in Seattle, she steps in to take his place and save him from financial ruin.

  Adam, a billionaire who lives in a secluded castle on a cliff, is gruff, demanding, brilliant, and injured. An acid attack left its mark on Adam’s face but it’s his heart wounds that Bella sees clearly.

  As she takes on the management of a multi-billion-dollar project, Bella’s confidence in herself strengthens and her attraction to Adam grows. But Adam didn’t become the best lawyer in the state by making friends and the wolves circle, ready to attack him at his weakest. Bella will have to be stronger than she’s ever been just to survive. And, before it’s too late, she’ll need to realize that her power lies in her ability to love beyond measure.

  Prologue

  Just outside the city of Seattle, a castle sits on a cliff overlooking Puget Sound. The Chateau has perched there since a French prince was removed to the wilds of America for loving the wrong woman. However, the prince was not one to hide in the shame forced upon him. He built himself a grand castle on a large estate, where he raised a happy family and amassed a considerable fortune.

  Years went by, and the castle and the land passed from one generation to another until it reached the prince’s great-great-grandson, Adam Moreau, a corporate lawyer who was known for tearing apart his competition in the courtroom. His grandfather had taken the considerable fortune and turned it into ridiculous wealth, which meant young Adam wanted for nothing—nothing but the opportunity to prove himself a Moreau in every sense of the name. Unfortunately, as the coffers grew with each generation, the love that had brought the family to the rocky cliffside dwelling dwindled, and Adam was left with the incorrect assumption that love is a weakness. After all, a lawyer couldn’t afford sentimentality. His cunning ways and fierce legal attacks earned him many nicknames, but only one lasted through the test of time: the Beast.

  Our story begins on a cold and drizzly winter Washington day when even the brilliant colors of changing leaves have been pushed aside by a muted, overcast sky and gloominess. Adam, in a move prompted purely by the increase in his financial standing, has subdivided a portion of the family estate and turned it into an exclusive development for billionaires called The Cove. As all but three of the lots have sold and the eclectic group of homes nears completion, he’d like to open Phase II. However, local politicians are hesitant to allow the rezoning of some of the city’s longtime wooded areas.

  At the suggestion of his Public Relations Advisor, Adam invites Seattle’s most influential people, including the mayor, the city council, and the members of the zoning commission, into his castle for lunch. He’s counting on wooing them with fine foods and perhaps intimidating them with the heavily guarded gate into The Cove, the solid stone castle walls, and his own reputation as the nation’s most formidable attorney. If all goes well, the provincials will leave their doubts and Phase II may begin posthaste. For who could ever resist the Beast?

  Chapter One

  Adam

  “Why?”

  Adam Moreau sidestepped the sloshed city councilwoman as she leaned into him, her pink drink swirling over the edge of her crystal flute. He grimaced, which was the closest thing he could get to smile while schmoozing. Networking had merit, but chitchat was a colossal waste of time.

  “Why would you ever give up all this property, the seclusion, the romantic woods?” She flipped her limp hand in the general direction of the vast acres of forest to the south of his latest development: The Cove. His pet project had given him a purpose, a drive, and he hadn’t once lamented the loss of land. Property had value, yes. But he had enough money to last ten lifetimes. What Adam craved was a challenge.

  Ms. Stonewall, his public relations advisor, walked behind the councilwoman and coughed lightly, her way of reminding him to use one of the answers she’d spent hours compiling based on each of the city council members’ profiles. This particular councilwoman was active in women’s rights groups and lobbied for stricter online privacy regulation throughout the nation.

  Adam mentally shuffled through the cards he’d glanced over, and memorized, moments before making his grand entrance. “Because one of the biggest issues wealth creates is the lack of privacy. The Cove has two security bases, a full security team, and an impregnable perimeter, all to make sure that our residents can walk around their home and property and feel safe.”

  The councilwoman threw back the remainder of her drink.

  Adam went for the kill. “We have several female residents who are transplants from other parts of the country, and I’m certain they will be looking for ways to make a difference in their new hometown.”

  Her blue eyes, as dull as they were, widened. “We could use more strong women in politics.” Her response was as predictable as a doll’s recorded message. Dolly needs a bottle. Dolly wants more money for science programs for women. Not that Adam had anything against science programs for women—he donated millions of dollars to them every year. His own mother had been a chemistry professor—brilliant-minded and kind-hearted. There should be more women like her in the world.

  What Adam minded was the predictability. For once, he’d like to meet a woman who was unpredictable. One who could hold his interest, verbally spar with him
, and not be reduced to tears if he cancelled dinner.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Adam caught the mayor and her small group of yes-men leaning his direction, listening in. Again—predictable.

  “The Cove is a beacon for women and men alike.” Adam spoke loud enough that the mayor didn’t have to strain to hear him. What did he care if Mayor Kelly Scott heard him boasting about the benefits of living behind a bulletproof vest? The Cove had all the amenities today’s billionaire could ask for and then some. He’d meant to create a beacon for the ultra-wealthy. Surrounding himself with successful people was never a bad idea.

  “Rich women and men,” groused the mayor, her blonde hair staying put like a helmet, even as she glanced both ways to see who else was listening in. The group of spectators grew, crowding in like teenagers in the hallway. Any moment now, one of them would chant, Fight, fight, fight. “Who will no doubt throw money at their candidates.” She said this as if it were a bad thing.

  Adam lifted his eyebrows slightly. “Many of them support the democracy vouchers.” He lifted his glass. “As do I.” According to his PR specialist, the democracy vouchers were a brilliant plan cooked up by Mayor Scott’s advisors to include more people in the democratic process. Each registered voter received a voucher for $100 that they could donate to the political campaign for the candidate of their choice. Less than half the vouchers had been put to use, but even those dismal numbers represented more pre-election day participation than Seattle had seen in decades.

  Mayor Kelly Scott wasn’t one to back down from a debate, but she wasn’t about to start a fight with the man who had donated over half the funds for the democracy voucher program. A program that had earned her the popular vote last election. In short, she was smart. And even though she strongly opposed opening Phase II of The Cove, she bit her tongue.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Edwards, Adam’s head butler, stood stiffly at Adam’s elbow. He had a first name, though it was unlikely than anyone in the castle knew what it was. The man had been here when Adam was growing up. He took such pride in his job that he was known to sniff derisively should Adam metaphorically step on his toes. A derisive sniff from any staff member would have earned them a swift dismissal, but Edwards, and his graying mustache, were as much a part of the castle as the grandfather clock in the hall.

  “Yes?” Adam motioned for him to continue.

  “Your Uncle Philip has arrived with a matter of great urgency.”

  At that moment, the very uncle mentioned hurried into the room. He wore a brown suit that had seen better days, and he carried a leather folder in his thick hands. His bright blue eyes, a trait he shared with Adam’s late mother and Adam himself, were frosted with worry. Uncle Philip rarely came to the castle, and his appearance now carried with it the first chill of winter.

  “It’s good to see you, uncle.” Even if the timing is horrible. Adam angled himself between the local highbrows and the man with wispy hair and knuckles swollen with arthritis. “What brings you here?” he asked lowly.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt the party.” He leaned to the side and offered Mayor Scott an apologetic smile.

  Adam took him by the shoulder and turned him away from the other guests. “What do you need?”

  “Well, we had the problem with The Rose Apartments. Remember?” He moistened his nearly nonexistent lips. Just how old was this man? Adam remembered him from family gatherings as a child, round face, full cheeks. He’d aged considerably, and not well, by the looks of things.

  The Rose was one of the first apartment complexes Adam’s grandfather built in Seattle. Father had given Uncle Philip the position of manager at Mother’s request shortly before she passed away. Since Uncle Philip had proven himself competent, neither Father nor Adam had removed him, and he had remained in that position for ages.

  “The tenant in 503. The one who broke the appliances and sabotaged the plumbing,” Uncle Philip prompted.

  “Yes. So?”

  “So the lawyer who was supposed to present the case in court was in an accident this morning and can’t be in court today.”

  “Call the firm and have them send someone else. Really, Uncle Philip, I don’t have time for these small squabbles.” He punched his arm out to expose his watch and then pointed at it.

  “I did. There’s no one else available.”

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to find Mayor Scott scowling. “Perhaps you have too many properties to handle at the moment. The Cove has taken so much of your attention that you’re neglecting your renters.” She lowered her chin. “Who happen to be voters.”

  Adam knew how to win a game of truth or dare. He always picked dare, and he never backed down. He clapped his uncle on the shoulder, noting that the shoulder pads added considerable bulk to a man who didn’t have a lot of meat on his bones. “I’ll take care of this one on my own and be back before we’re called into lunch, Madam Mayor.”

  “I look forward to hearing about your latest battle, Beast.” She lifted her glass, and several others followed suit. The game was afoot. Adrenaline surged through Adam at the thought of commanding the courtroom and winning a case. He hadn’t argued a squabble in ages. This would be fun.

  Being known as the Beast had served him well, intimidating opposing counsel before walked through the doors. Heaven help the poor defense attorney who had taken the tenant’s case and unsuspectingly agreed to meet the Beast on the battlefield.

  Edward walked stiffly from the room, no doubt to have the car brought around.

  Adam couldn’t leave his uncle with this group. They would either eat him alive or pump him for information. “You can brief me in the car.” He propelled the man across the Persian rug and through the great archway to the marbled-floor front entry.

  Uncle Philip stopped and sniffed the air. “Lunch smelled delicious.”

  “Roast pheasant.” Adam accepted his raincoat from one of the footmen—he could never remember their names, and they all looked alike with black hair and a uniform. “I’ll have Edward send something to your apartment.”

  Uncle’s face fell. “Of course.”

  The smaller limo, the one they used to go through the busy downtown streets, pulled to a stop on the cobblestone drive at the bottom of the rounded staircase. Two lions—larger than Adam, who was six foot one—stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, their teeth bared.

  The men climbed inside, and Philip handed Adam the folder. “That’s all the information I have.” He ducked his head as if his evidence was subpar.

  Adam flipped through it quickly, then went back to look a little closer. Receipts for repairs made. A log of phone calls between the tenant and Philip. The tenant’s growing displeasure and refusal to pay the rent. There were pictures of the spray-painted walls, curse words and curses alike, highlighted in neon green and blue. The couch cushions were slashed, the stuffing yellowed, testifying to the time lapse between the vandalism and the picture shoot. He pulled on his bottom lip as he read a man’s catalogued actions as he descended into madness. For one brief moment, he wondered what had triggered the meltdown. Each of his renters were screened. The application papers indicated that he was a pharmacologist and had worked at DGR’s Pharmacy for fifteen years.

  Instead of dwelling on the whys, Adam cast them aside and focused on securing the consequences. He’d have the man locked away to protect society.

  Uncle Philip broke the silence and Adam’s concentration. “You remind me so much of your father.”

  Adam slapped the folder shut. He had enough information to win the case. “I hope you mean that as a compliment, because it’s been said both ways many times.”

  The lines around Philip’s eyes had softened. “Same noble brow. Same wavy blond hair. Though I think you’re an inch taller than him.”

  “The old man just rolled over in his grave.” His father never gave him an inch in life; it was unlikely he’d give him one in death.

  “I offered to take you, you know. After Alicia
passed.” Philip ran his thumb over the swollen knuckle on his ring finger. “Your father had other ideas.”

  Adam stared out the window as the early days of boarding school, the loneliness, and the emptiness of a child still mourning his mother washed over him like a soft Seattle drizzle. He took in the man across from him. A simple man with a simple life—a life that would have made Adam soft. “Thank goodness for that,” he muttered. At least his father had saved him from a small and unimportant life.

  Uncle Philip sighed. “You have more in common with him than your looks.”

  This time Adam understood that the words weren’t a compliment, though they were spoken with honesty. The realization unexpectedly stabbed, like a thorn in his flesh. No matter. He would shortly prove that being fierce was better than being … whatever it was Uncle Philip wished him to be. He lifted the folder. “This should only take a moment, and you’ll be on your way.”

  The car stopped in front of King County Courthouse. The aged gray building was shaped like a letter H, with two columns of justice connected by a tunnel of office space. There were decorations on the exterior to recommend it as an architectural beauty.