Snow & Her Huntsman
by
Sydney St. Claire
Book Three
Once Upon A Dom
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Snow & Her Huntsman
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Sydney St. Claire
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2015
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-817-4
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my good friend Sueann Snow, one of the most courageous women I know.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Sydney St. Claire
CINDERELLA & PRINCE DOM
“Whew! …dust off the fairy tale and check the battery stash! Sydney St. Claire has given Cinderella some glass slippers with BDSM heels… While this is her first entree in the (erotic romance) genre, she pulls together a great story with an equal “hot factor” and love story. Great read!”
~Snarky Mom Reads
~*~
“Those of you who were introduced to BDSM with Fifty Shades, please read this. THIS is how it is supposed to work…the author gets it.”
~Geneva, Paranormal Romance & Authors That Rock
RED & HER BIG BAD DOM
“This story leaves you wet and panting for more. The wolf will devour you
~Nulery, Books N Pearls
~*~
“*thud* *head desk* *faints* Yep, that’s Harlie after reading this one. Damn, I thought my Kindle would combust. Literally… You will need a cold drink, your partner, or a cold shower...”
~Marika Weber, Harlies Books
~*~
“Instead of treating BDSM like just another man-controls-woman-for-his-pleasure encounter, author Sydney St. Claire really gets it that it’s always a matter of give and take, of dominance and submission wrestling for control, even as the Dom is ostensibly the one wielding the power.”
~Laura Roberts, Buttontapper Press
Chapter One
Rylee Kincaid floated in a sea of joyous emotion. She’d managed to save her small interior decorating business, Interior Dreams. A short while ago, she’d been jumping with excitement. And why shouldn’t she? She’d found an investor willing to inject her company with desperately needed cash, and today, they were signing papers.
Dressed in a blood-red power suit with killer heels, she led Glorie Amadori to the conference room. Rylee wore her serious, business demeanor like most women wore their accessories, even though she wanted to dance and hug the woman behind her. But her salvation was a fierce and scary woman who never smiled or laughed.
Rylee wrinkled her nose as she passed Henry, one of her brilliant and very talented graphic artists. She swallowed her chuckle. Henry had dubbed their savior, the dark haired, dark-eyed Italian woman as “The Dragon.” He swore the woman scared the crap out of him.
Glorie, during her visits to check the company books, had talked with employees and toured the offices. There’d been no warmth or friendliness. She was a hard and, yeah, cold businesswoman. But did Rylee care? Nope. Someone was willing to invest and save her business, along with the jobs of her employees, and that was all that mattered.
She poured two cups of fresh coffee. Glorie took hers black and strong while Rylee liked hers sweet and light. Joining the woman at the table, she smoothed her skirt and sat, then picked up the contract to give it a final read-through. They’d agreed on terms and conditions, and later this afternoon, Rylee would take the papers to her lawyer. She barely managed to contain her happiness as she skimmed over much of the legal mumbo-jumbo until she reached the details that would put the funds in her bank account.
The company investing in her business read as
F.A. Investments Group
, and underneath—
CEO Hunter Finnegan?
Her bright, happy mood popped like a balloon that had flown too high into the atmosphere. “Hunter Finnegan? He owns F.A.?”
Her heart jumped as the image of a tall, impossibly handsome man flooded her mind—golden brown hair, tawny eyes, and skin kissed by the sun, along with full, sensuous lips made for kissing. Once upon a time, he’d been the man of her dreams.
“Yes.” Glorie sorted a pile of papers across from her.
Rylee frowned. When Glorie first approached her with the idea of F.A. Investment’s interest in her company, she’d been happy and relieved. Bottom line for her had been how much they were willing to invest and what they wanted in return. The terms were tough, but fair. They’d hammered out the details, and today, she’d been prepared to celebrate. But learning Hunter was behind the offer dimmed her optimistic outlook. Why was he interested in her business? Her gaze tracked over the contract details.
Sale of business…new CEO…owner will step down…
Reality stepped in with a one-two. Flaming arrows thudded into her stomach. The burning in her gut slid upward and flared painfully in her throat. Her eyes blurred as she stared at the contract, the words swimming before her shocked gaze.
Sell?
What the hell? She wasn’t selling what she and her husband Jerry had started ten years ago. She’d poured her heart and soul into her business, and if she sold it, her employees, who were her only family, would be at the mercy of strangers. No way was she giving up control. Sweat trickled down her spine while anxiety chilled her skin.
She gripped her hands beneath the table. “Ms. Amadori, this is unacceptable. Selling the company wasn’t part of our deal. These are
not
the terms you and I discussed and agreed upon.”
Glorie didn’t bother to glance up from the papers she sorted. “Those are the terms available to you, Ms. Kincaid. Your company, as it stands, will not survive, even with a healthy dose of cash. Mr. Finnegan decided the best way to save your business is to buy it outright to gain control. This will allow him to do whatever is necessary to protect his investment.” Glorie lifted her head, her dark eyes shards of obsidian. “We will have to make major changes to turn things around. First on the list, we’ll have to appoint a new CEO.”
“What about me?” Oh god, what about her people? They needed her as much as she needed them. Her business was her life, especially since losing Jerry.
“You will remain on as an adviser for three months.”
“And after?” Her mouth felt so dry it was difficult to speak, but she was afraid she’d choke if she tried to swallow. The acid in her stomach churned, and her heart pounded behind her ribs. Tremors of fear settled deep in her core.
“Your role here will be fulfilled. Mr. Finnegan is willing to pay you a fair price for the business, and he’s agreed to include a generous bonus—if you remain to oversee the change of ownership.”
Then you’re gone.
Rylee stood, strode across the room, and stared out the window as she struggled to keep her tears at bay. This was a crushing blow, but she’d be damned if she showed any weakness to the woman who’d suddenly morphed into an evil, fire-breathing dragon ready to devour its prey. She loved her company, loved each and every employee. She and her husband had cultivated a family atmosphere, and she prided herself in taking care of those who’d given so much to her, especially during Jerry’s fight with cancer.
People who worked for her stayed. Most of her current employees had started with her ten years ago. She could count on their loyalty, but loyalty and a sense of family didn’t pay the bills. The downswing in the economy had hit her business hard, and even though the economy was improving and small jobs were trickling in, her business wasn’t going to recover without a fast influx of cash.
She spun around. “This is my business. These people are my responsibility. All I need is someone to invest in my company. Not buy it. We have a huge contract in the works that will put us back on our feet. It’s a done deal. I just need a bit of help in the meantime.”
Glorie arched one thin, shapely brow. “Done deals are not money in the bank, Ms. Kincaid. It will take a good six months before you see any significant revenue. Hunter is willing to step in and save your business, now. Once the papers are signed, the company becomes part of F.A. Investments. Your employees, along with everything else, will belong to Mr. Finnegan.”
Rylee had never hated anyone, but at that moment, she was close to hating Glorie. The woman had gotten her hopes up, and in the blink of an eye, she’d dashed them. No, the cold-hearted bitch had ground them beneath her wickedly stylish heels. Could she swallow her pride, take the hit to her heart if it meant saving jobs? “If I agree to this, what about my employees?”
Glorie removed her glasses and tucked them into black leather case. She snapped it closed. “There will be changes. We’ll be bringing in some of our own people, and during the process, some of the deadwood will be trimmed. That is business, Ms. Kincaid. Interior Dreams needs fresh blood. Now, the contracts are ready. As soon as you sign each set, we’ll get started.”
The woman’s gaze remained expressionless. Rylee’s fingers itched with the urge to take those neatly stacked papers and toss them around the room. Even more satisfying, to bodily throw the cold-hearted bitch out and tell her to stay the hell away, but without an investor, Interior Dreams would be forced to close. Soon. This had been her last hope.
“Ms. Kincaid, I understand this is difficult. You didn’t read the page with the amount Mr. Finnegan is willing to pay. I have to say, his offer is more than fair. You won’t get better from anywhere else.” She named a price.
Rylee’s jaw dropped. “Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand?” She swallowed hard. One buck short of a million? Never in a million—ha ha—years would she find anyone else willing to pay that much for her mid-sized company. She swallowed hard.
But that’s not the point
. Her people were more important than money.
Ignoring the hollow sickness in her stomach, she met Glorie’s amused gaze. “Price isn’t the problem here. I won’t sign this. I want the original six-hundred-fifty thousand and the terms you and I agreed upon. Not this bait and switch crap.” Holy cow, she was turning down an offer almost double the original.
Glorie stood. “These are the only terms on the table. You can have your lawyer check the contract, but it’s simple enough. I’ll be in contact. If you have any questions or concerns, you’re free to take them up with Mr. Finnegan.” She gathered her briefcase and, without another word or glance, opened the conference room door and strode out.
Rylee dropped into one of the chairs and stared at the contract. “What am I going to do?”
In the three months she’d been searching for someone to invest in her business, F.A. Investments Group had been the only one to show interest, and now, to learn that Hunter was behind this made her furious.
Hunter Finnegan was a ghost from her past and, presently, a sharp thorn in her side. Was he doing this because she’d refused to go out with him? They’d met in college at a wild party. He’d been the campus rich kid, and she’d been there on a hard-won scholarship. Somehow, the two of them had ended up in her studio apartment. She didn’t remember how they got there, but there was no forgetting that wondrous weekend of sex.
They’d talked, made love, crawled out of bed to eat, made love in the kitchen, shared her tiny shower, and yeah, more sex. Hunter had claimed her heart, mind, and body for three nights and two days. He’d left early Monday morning to go to his classes with the promise of returning that evening.
Rylee kicked a chair as she recalled how foolish she’d been. She’d waited for him, night after night, but he never came back. Didn’t even call. She’d finally tracked him down on campus. “Big mistake.”
Her dream man had poofed, leaving behind a slimy snake. He’d made it clear their weekend of passion meant nothing to him. He’d betrayed her trust. She’d been a foolish, naive girl playing with fire. Well, she’d gotten burned and learned her lesson. Forget the rich guys. Stick to sweet boys like Jerry. She and Jerry had been in a study group together and gone out for coffee a few times. He hadn’t set her blood on fire like Hunter, but he was nice.