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    The Billionaire's Heart: Secret Billionaire's Club, #1
    The Billionaire's Heart: Secret Billionaire's Club, #1
    The Billionaire's Heart: Secret Billionaire's Club, #1
    Ebook90 pages1 hour

    The Billionaire's Heart: Secret Billionaire's Club, #1

    By Tracey Pedersen

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    About this ebook

    This billionaire guards more than one secret…

    This Valentine's Day, a ridiculous game hatched in the Secret Billionaire's Club means that Sayer Smith, heir to a media fortune, and with the looks of a rock star, needs a date. When his planned companion fails to show, he's secretly thrilled. Anyone his mother would choose can't be right for him.

    Instead, he sets his sights on his assistant, Kendra.

    Kendra has her own secret, though, and when she tells Sayer it will catapult them into a forbidden weekend spent between the sheets.

    Can these two find a way to turn their steamy Valentine's weekend into something more?

    The Secret Billionaire's Club Books:

    The Billionaire's Heart
    The Billionaire's Luck
    The Billionaire's Treat
    The Billionaire's Duty
    The Billionaire's Spark
    The Billionaire's Club
    The Billionaire's Scare
    The Billionaire's Feast
    The Billionaire's Gift
    The Billionaire's Surprise

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDaring Online Adventures
    Release dateFeb 11, 2019
    ISBN9780648342243
    The Billionaire's Heart: Secret Billionaire's Club, #1
    Author

    Tracey Pedersen

    Tracey Pedersen is an Australian USA Today Bestselling author who has finally accepted that she is meant to write, write, write! In 2016 she released her first romance novel and hasn't looked back. Now writing full time, and fighting the urge to write every second of the day, she loves travel, crocheting, replying to reader emails and spending WAY too much time on Facebook!

    Read more from Tracey Pedersen

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      Book preview

      The Billionaire's Heart - Tracey Pedersen

      Chapter One - Kendra

      Sayer Smith is dating again and I can’t stand it.

      It’s been more than six months since my swoon-worthy boss hooked up with the pop star the newspapers were later thrilled to report broke his heart. He and I both know that wasn’t the case, but journalists love to stretch the truth—especially entertainment reporters who work for your competitor. The relationship would have run its course sooner if it wasn’t for her people stretching it out. I was on the verge of taking the drastic step to leak the truth, except Sayer confided that he wasn’t serious about her and couldn’t care less what was being reported.

      But now here he is, going on dates and making definite plans to settle down. For the thousandth time since I started working for him, I kick myself for shutting down his early advances. At the time, I didn’t realize how different the private Sayer is to the public persona. I had no idea how much he enjoys the simple things in life alongside the high-flying experiences he takes for granted. This man doesn’t employ a chauffeur when he travels, he hires a car. Sayer doesn’t employ security staff, except for big events. He supports several charities and keeps his donations a secret.

      I glance at the mangled chew toy in the corner of his office as I place an envelope against his keyboard. If only he’d bought that chocolate lab earlier—the one he let lick him on the mouth the moment it arrived in the office—I’d have fallen into his arms the night he made it clear he was interested in me.

      How could I have known if it was a fling for him or something more, when we’d barely gotten to know each other at work? I couldn’t. So I knocked him back as professionally as I could manage, making it clear I’d never be interested in him. I’d almost laughed at the surprised look on his face. There’s a chance I’m the only woman who has ever rejected an advance from the sexy media mogul waiting in a nearby restaurant for a date his mother chose for him.

      And don’t I regret it now?

      Chapter Two - Sayer

      My fingers tapping the table annoy me, but a glance at the time confirms I’ve only been waiting seven minutes. It feels like longer as I scroll through email on my phone, well aware that a woman two tables away keeps glancing at me. Each time she does, she leans into her companion and speaks quietly; he laughs and she joins in, making the tassels on her red jacket shake. I wonder if she’s making up a backstory for me, since I’m alone at a table set for two on Valentine’s Day. A man with a rose on the table on this particular day must be a loser if his date hasn’t shown.

      I'm anything but a loser. Companies I own probably made the jacket she’s wearing. At the very least, one of them has the advertising account for the brand—if it’s high-end, anyway.

      The waitress makes a beeline for my table. I’ve already sent her away twice and this time, at the last minute, she veers to the left to attend to another guest. Her hovering is almost as annoying as the woman and her laughing companion.

      It’s not as annoying as waiting for a date I’m convinced won’t show, though. How I got sucked into this scenario is something I’ll have to give some thought to. It’s not the first time our boys’ club has ventured into crazy-land to amuse ourselves with an outlandish idea.

      My phone buzzes, and I smile when I see the name on the screen. I notice a flicker of interest from the female diner as I answer.

      Hey, Kendra. What’ve you got for me?

      It's not good news, Sayer.

      Well, don't hold back. We didn't get to this point by keeping secrets.

      The only secret I keep from Kendra Snow is my desire to make her mine. She’s the best personal assistant I’ve ever had, and I almost ruined it when I asked her out on the three-month anniversary of her employment. I try not to recall the look of distaste on her face as I was swiftly rebuffed with strict instructions not to ask again. That was three years ago, and I’ve behaved myself around her ever since.

      Sorry. I hear a loud thump, followed by her muttering something away from the phone, and I’m convinced she’s knocked her plant off her desk. There’s no way that happened, though—Kendra is rarely flustered or clumsy. She sighs before she continues, which is also unusual. The numbers aren’t where you want them to be. I’m certain you’ll want to revise your bid when you look them over.

      That bad? I lean back in my chair and finally stare down the woman in the red jacket. Her bravado vanishes and she focusses her attention on her date, reaching out to hold his hand. I can’t say I’m surprised.

      How's your date going?

      I snort. So far, she's a no-show. In six more minutes, I'm leaving and coming to the office.

      Well, why don't you sit tight, and I'll bring the paperwork to you? You can sign it, I'll take it home, and I can lodge it tomorrow when you're on your way to Perth. If your date has arrived by then, I'll only be a thirty-second interruption.

      Okay. I'll order myself a drink to smooth out the shock of those numbers. She laughs, and I allow myself a second to close my eyes. Her throaty chuckle is a sound I can never admit I love.

      Better make it a double.

      Fifteen minutes later, an audible sigh filters through the restaurant when Kendra heads toward my table. By now, I have everyone’s attention as the single guy on Valentine’s Day, waiting patiently for his date. If I’d chosen a lesser establishment, I have no doubt my photo would be all over social media by now, anonymous strangers sympathizing with me in the comments. Several times I considered waiting for Kendra outside, but it’s become a point

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