Big Bad Billionaire (The Woolven Secret Book 1)
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Authors: Saranna DeWylde
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Published in the United States of America by
Saranna DeWylde
© 2015
Cover Art by Saranna DeWylde
Stock Photo: Dreamstime
All excerpt materials printed with permission.
Welcome to the world of The Woolven Secret.
Billionaires? Check.
Playboys? Check.
Werewolves? Surprise! Double check.
The Woolven Secret was born one night when I was talking with a friend about interesting titles. (Much like Desperate Housewives of Olympus.) I came up with the Billionaire Werewolf’s Secret Litter, and while we laughed hysterically (there might have been snorting and honking like demented geese) this little sliver of an idea kept gnawing on me. Apparently Blake, Drew, Parker and War had decided their stories were going to be told and I was the one to do it. And I’m so glad. I love this world, love these characters and I hope you do too.
Xo
For Virginia Nelson
Because she’s better than fairy dust. (And Redbull) Her belief makes you fly and gives you your own wings. I love her more than I can say. This book wouldn’t have been born without her to midwife.
For Heather Long
Because of late nights that turned to early mornings, her constant encouragement, and because Serafina touched me all the way in my bones. And last, but certainly not least, because I love her dearly.
Chapter One
Blake Woolven, notorious bad boy billionaire, was currently living up to his reputation by fucking Marchessa de la Luna in his penthouse office suite.
She wasn’t his mate by any means, but she’d do.
They had to keep their human skins, since it was the full light of day in the middle of the city. He couldn’t risk exposure, but he could definitely risk burying his cock in her tight little sheath.
“Are you going to stare at it or fuck it, Big Bad?” the she-wolf growled.
Mmm
. It gave him a perverse kind of pleasure when she called him that. Made him think about running her down like prey and devouring her in the best of ways until she screamed his name—howling—while she came.
“I don’t know.” He slipped his hand down her black lace covered ass and gave it a swat. “Are you playing Little Red?”
“That sanctimonious little fool?” she drawled, deep and throaty. “Not a chance. I’m the hunter.” She growled low in her throat.
And indeed, she was the hunter. She was a predator, just like him. In fact, part of the thrill of mounting the evil little she-demon was that they were currently at war with the de la Lunas. This had crossed from the forbidden into madness some time ago, but he couldn’t resist.
He filled his palms with both taut globes. “Oh really? So you think you’re going to gut me?”
“I’ll eat your heart out, Blake,” she promised, her voice low and close to the Change.
There was little chance of that. Blake Woolven wouldn’t settle for just any gold digging, social climbing, delectable-assed she-wolf. No, he wouldn’t take any but his intended mate. Being the heir, he had that privilege. It was up to the lessers, the betas, to mate for social standing, pack order, resources…
He was Alpha. He made his own rules.
Blake tangled his hand in her long, blond hair and tugged it back so she arched up off his desk, all spread out for him and wanting.
Yeah, I’ll do her just like this.
The intercom buzzed. “Your one o’clock is here.”
He snarled, “Cancel.”
The elder wolf on the line sighed. “You asked me to remind you, sir. It’s Randi Rutger.”
He snarled again, the Change coming over his features as he fought to keep his animal at bay. “Give me five.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re really going to fuck me in five minutes?” Marchessa turned her head to look at him, green eyes flashing like St. Elmo’s Fire.
As much as he’d be sorry to miss out on Marchessa’s charms, Ms. Rutger held priority as she was currently trying to sabotage his company. “No. You’re going to put on your clothes, and you’re going to leave.”
“Are you kidding me?” She bared her teeth.
“Do I look like I’m kidding? I have important pack business.” He straightened, pulling the cool veneer of propriety down over his wolf, locking it down inside of him. It snarled at the cage, rammed at the bars, but Blake knew he couldn’t indulge the beast at the moment.
“You’re an asshole.” She stuffed her feet into her shoes.
“That’s what they say.” He arched a brow.
What happened to eating my heart?
Blake rather imagined asking her the question wouldn’t go over well, but it could be fun to watch.
The door was flung open just as Marchessa was leaving, almost knocking the pretty she-wolf in the head.
“Excuse me,” a voice said.
“There’s no excuse for you, I’m sure.” The she-wolf looked the other female up and down, then lifted her nose in the air, scenting. “That’s what I thought.”
His one o’clock, Miss Randi Rutger, narrowed her eyes right back. “Same to you.”
Randi Rutger obviously had no idea what Marchessa was doing, smelling her to see just what kind of creature she was—finding her human and therefore lacking. But Randi was obviously an Alpha female and didn’t seem to care what Marchessa intended, only in giving her the same derision in turn.
Good for her.
Bad for him.
She wasn’t going to make this easy.
Especially since she smelled like…
his
.
No, no, no. Not okay
. He looked up at the ceiling, as if the remedy for this situation was written there in gold. Or excrement. He’d take anything, but what he thought it was.
Had to be Marchessa’s scent, he reassured himself. He’d been taking her much too often and his body was starting to identify her as his mate. That had to be it.
Not a puny human.
Especially not
this
puny human.
From the burning hellfire in her eyes, she’d see him dead rather than speak to him. That was an awful lot of hate to be packed into a human heart. If she were Turned with that kind of sour in her soul, it would be an ugly thing, to be sure. Everything was more intense as a wolf—all sensations, especially feelings. As a wolf, that rage would make her a monster.
Goddess, but she smelled delightful. Like sex, chocolate, and all things good and true.
She narrowed her eyes. Apparently, she’d been speaking while he’d been mentally stripping her out of that black pencil skirt with his teeth.
Mine.
Nope.
Mine.
Nuh-uh.
Mine.
Damn it.
“Well, I assume you know who I am, since you requested this meeting.” She put her hands on her deliciously rounded hips.
“Of course I know who you are, Ms. Rutger. You’re the woman trying to destroy Woolven Industries. My question is why you’d submit your resume under those circumstances. Using your real name? What did you think that would accomplish?” He cocked his head to the side and tried not to think about how hard his cock was and how much he’d love to see it cradled between her amazing breasts.
Blake scented no fear on her, only her innate scent that fired his blood.
“A job. If Woolven has nothing to hide, then you should hire me. After all, it’s your fault my father is dead, along with our bank account. The least you can do is give me a job.”
He laughed. She had balls, he’d give her that.
“If I killed your father, heartless bastard that I am, why would I give a damn if you don’t have a job or a trust fund?” He tossed that at her, careless and cruel, trying to figure out her motivations as much as put some distance between them.
“I don’t know. If you didn’t plan on hiring me, why would you take time out of your oh-so busy bastarding to talk to me?” She lifted her chin and her generous breasts heaved with the acceleration of her heartbeat.
He stepped closer to her and to her credit, she didn’t back down. She was tall in her heels, as tall as he was. His fingers itched to grab her, to touch her, to see if her curves were really as plush as they looked.
That’s just what he needed—calling her in for a meeting and getting slapped with a very public EEO suit.
No thanks
.
“Maybe I just wanted to take your measure. Perhaps it’s part of my ‘bastarding,’ as you put it. Call you in, raise your hopes, then crush you under my heel the way I crushed your father.”
Her eyes flashed, and her scent changed. Her anger boiled just under the surface. He shouldn’t have intentionally riled her, but the more she hated him, the better. Distance was what they needed. She couldn’t be his mate. If she was, he was fucked.
And not in any way one wanted to be.
Because it
was
his fault David Rutger died. The Woolven Secret drove the man mad.
She took his measure, just as he’d said he was doing to her. She looked him up and down and, based on her expression, found him lacking. His wolf bristled at the thought then clawed toward the surface, intent to show her he was not lacking in any way.
Not in any way a true wolf mate would think, anyway.
She lifted her chin. “I think you’re going to give me the job. I think my father left tech unfinished that you need to deliver to your shareholders.”
“I have an entire team of scientists. Why would I need you?” He didn’t like that she already knew his plans. Her behavior, so blasé about showing her cards could only mean she kept big plays hidden elsewhere.
He had to protect the company, the pack, and the family at all costs.
“My father left his research in code. I’m the only one who knows how to read it.”
He arched a brow, maintaining his cool façade. “Why the charade? Why bother to submit your resume at all? Why not just call me?”
“I know how the game works, Mr. Woolven. I drop the scent, you chase.”
If only she knew how truly she spoke. She’d dropped the scent, to be sure. The scent of lust, of the thrill of the chase, the even more intense thrill of the catch.
A hot and wet culmination under the goddess moon and her stars
… he practically salivated at the thought.
He turned away from her, striding to his desk, intensely aware of her scrutiny on his back. If her eyes could’ve burned him, his bones would be smoking. Right then, he could still toss her out on her plush derriere, and he’d protect himself and the secret. But then he wouldn’t be able to smell her, see her, taste her…
Mine
.
This was insane. Utterly, justifiably—“If I were to hire you for, say, VP of Tech, what would your salary requirements be?”
Her heart literally skipped a beat; he heard it. He’d surprised her.
Good
. It gave him an advantage. He needed an advantage.
“Why would you do that? I don’t have a degree or any experience.”
“Come now, we both know that’s not true. Don’t insult my intelligence. How else would your resume have ended up in
my
inbox? HR wouldn’t have passed it on to me if you weren’t qualified. I know exactly what your skillset is, and how you use it.” He looked her up and down. “Besides, only the VP of Tech, aside from those working on the projects, has clearance. It’s the job I would’ve given your father, and you’d be taking over his work.”
Her heart thundered in her chest like a stampede of wild horses. He rather imagined she was torn between joy at having gotten more than she’d come for and fury at the mention of her father.
“Of course, you’d have to sign a non-disclosure. You’d also have to be approved for top secret clearance. The military has acquired our latest project.”
“So, it’s not just the shareholders.” She nodded. “Why would you tell me that? I want to ruin you. If I walk away now, you’ll never decode his notes.”
He arched a brow. “The same reason you have no qualms about telling me you want to ruin me, I suppose. Nice to have all our cards on the table, isn’t it?”
She obviously wasn’t expecting his candor, but he hadn’t expected hers, either. He liked how ballsy she behaved. He knew she wouldn’t give up, and he didn’t want her to. He liked her fire, but he wanted to control her access to information, yet get what he needed at the same time. Bringing her on board would keep her just close enough to protect the business…and unfortunately, drive his wolf insane.
Randi eyed him, and he met her scrutiny squarely.
“You make no sense.”
“Don’t you want to know what your father was working on that was worth his life?” He twisted the knife deeper.
“You’d trust me with this, knowing I might use it to bring you down?”
Blake flashed her a sly look. “Maybe it will drive
you
mad, too.”
“The project didn’t drive him mad. You did when you devoured his company like a wolf would a rabbit—swallowed it whole and took everything from him.”
“It was business.”
“And when I destroy you, it will be
personal
.”
“Glad we had this chat.” He turned away from her, his wolf burning just beneath his skin. Goddess, he hadn’t been like this since he’d been a teen undergoing his first Change. Fangs filled his mouth; his body on fire as his bones prepared to reshape and reform. Suddenly, all he could hear was her heartbeat. All he could smell, her scent.
“Don’t turn your back on me, Woolven.”
Her snarl made his cock harder than it had ever been in his life. Goddess, but there was something wrong with him. This shouldn’t turn him on, but it did—more than even the taboo of fucking Marchessa de la Luna.
He summoned every last bit of his will and caged his wolf before turning to face her. She’d closed the distance between them. To what end, he wasn’t sure.
Her lips parted in a gasp then he scented something new. She desired him as much as he desired her. He couldn’t help the smirk that curved his lips.
“It stinks like sex in here, Woolven. I’m well aware of your reputation, and I am not impressed with your pretty hair or your broad shoulders. Or your stupid smirk.”
But she was. He could smell it.
Blake quirked a brow. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“I don’t care what you do.” She crossed her arms over her chest, standard defensive body language.
