Tame Me: A Filthy Billionaire Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  ABOUT THIS STORY

  The Legend of the Warrior

  DESCRIPTION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTET FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  LOOK FOR OUR OTHER SERIES

  About J.L. Beck

  About Cassandra Bloom

  Tame Me

  Cassandra Bloom

  &

  J.L. Beck

  Copyright ©2018

  ABOUT THIS STORY

  This story is somewhat a Fantasy Novel but mostly, involving an old Indian legend. We do wish to warn readers, this is a highly Erotic Romance with a light touch of BDSM. If you like a hot read with alpha males and strong women, this story will do it. If you wish for a Clean, Sweet Romance, this is not the story for you.

  Thank you so much for giving this unusual novel a chance.

  J.L. Beck

  &

  Cassandra Bloom

  The Legend of the Warrior

  The Hualapai Wars: Legends and Heroes.

  In the summer of 1865, a white man, a settler, killed the brave leader of the People of the Pines. Ananza … he will be touched by the sun and forever in the People’s memory.

  The bloody war, which followed as revenge from the People to the whites over the killing of their leader brought many deaths and nearly wiped out the People’s ranks. The tribe fell in disfavor with the wind, the life circle and the earth mother. Disease ran among our people; it killed the babies, the young, and the old and our tribe could thrive no more.

  In the year 1870, our leader reappeared at our war call and talked to the People. He had been brought back by the Spirt Callers of the tribe. He was the Spirt warrior, the protector of the People. He told the warriors that if they continued the bloodletting, all the People would disappear forever. He told them he was now among the Warriors of the Sky. He assured the People he would watch over them, and he would return every five turns of the seasons.

  The legend says the People are to provide our spirit-walking leader with all that he will need at the times of his appearance. The People have a sacred duty to provide for his protection from evil spirits. It is told to us by the Elders who have spoken with him, that when the day comes and the People are safe with the assurance they will live on as a tribe, that he shall choose a bride and be able to live among the tribe once more.

  DESCRIPTION

  Madeline Sayers, a CEO and business woman from Los Angeles is used to having her way. She has made a success of her life and she likes it. She is one of California’s youngest female billionaires…at the top of her game. A mansion in Malibu, luxury cars, the gold key to success. Unwillingly, she takes a journey to the middle of nowhere. Out of her element, she must complete a quest her dying mother sent her on. She doesn’t wish to be in Nowhere, Arizona but has no choice.

  Once there, she discovers something extraordinary. A man that defies all logic for her. A man that tries to tame her. Devon Ananza who is also the man they call the Brave, the Warrior. He literally turns her upside down and inside out, as he makes her feel things she never knew she could while she’d been living in her cut throat world of getting ahead. Scared for the very first time in her orderly well-manicured life… She fights it… she fights love.

  Once she finally gives in and embraces love, she discovers he isn’t a normal man. In fact, he is supernatural. Can she get past the knowledge that he is a god? An Indian legend come to life? Will she finally see what life can bring her that money never did, or will she run back to the safety of the boardroom?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Los Angeles, California

  Beautiful, confident, and born to buy and sell very large things, Madeline sat in the boardroom and looked out through the high windows at the skyline of downtown L.A. The dirty fight along the corporate ladder and her years in college had groomed her for days like today.

  “Wheeling and dealing,” her mother used to say about her aspirations.

  At the age of twenty-seven, a hundred million dollar deal rested in her slim fingers. Madeline existed in a logical world of thought and focus, with no room for feelings of any kind. The project loomed in front of her as the biggest deal of her career so far, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

  The twelve of them sat and watched her, comfortably ensconced in the glass and marble environs of the twelfth floor. Known in the corporate world as The Mighty Twelve, they were some of the most powerful dealers in land development: hard-nosed, shrewd, and most definitely among the richest people in the world. All of them present at the long table in the lavish boardroom of the SP building, where magnificent deals transpired and lives were both ruined and built.

  The daunting power brokers sat patiently listening to her, Madeline Sayers, having digested her initial presentation during the lunchbreak, over their merlot and summer salads. They will buy it all, dammit! A glint of determination reflected from her penetrating blue eyes as Madeline softened her expression to pitch the closing sell.

  “The property is four square blocks and all pre-zoned. The intersecting streets lead out to the freeway. Affluent suburbs border the east side and the west. The airport is three miles away, within taxi distance.” Looking each board member in the eye, knowing she’d already reeled them in, she continued. “The final cost is far below the standard market. We anticipate initial profits to exceed triple the outlay, and at least that in returns every year. As I stated earlier today: A sweet deal, all dream and lots of cream.” Madeline topped off her clincher with her bestselling smile.

  The Mighty Twelve all laughed at the ending remark, as they admired the young, brilliant executive in the prime of her career. With various expressions of respectful appreciation, they nodded their heads and spoke to one another in low tones.

  Yep, hooked ‘em. She stood and shook their hands, flashed them a gleaming, white smile, retrieved her leather briefcase and left the boardroom. A flicker of an adrenaline rush coursed through her with the prospect of another successful deal. Her expensive, tailor-made, burgundy dress suit accented her confident stride and swished with a silky sound as she made her way to the elevator.

  “Hey, wait up!” Taylor Scott called out. A legend around the office, Taylor represented the epitome of everything an
executive strove for: well bred, good looking, wore tailored suits and knew all the right people.

  Madeline had to remind herself yet again that she hated his ever-loving guts. Do not look at him; he will make every effort to impress and has plenty of charm to spend.

  He stood six foot one on wonderfully long legs, his semi-rugged face perfectly framed in dark, wavy hair and featuring dark brown eyes to match. Taylor was strong-willed, while exuding a deadly boyish charm which nailed them in all the top boardrooms.

  And probably in all the top bedrooms, too. A smile tugged at her lips as an image of him without his expensive suit appeared in her mind. No, don’t even go there! An ignitable sensation came over her with the vision of his smooth, tanned skin under her capable, but greedy, hands.

  “So, did they buy?” A knowing grin widened his lips.

  Madeline ignored him and pressed the elevator button.

  “Not yet, eh?” His penetrating, dark eyes twinkled at her.

  Avoiding his gaze, she willed the elevator to open. Fuck, hurry up!

  Taylor studied her face. “So, wanna celebrate your score?”

  You mean you wish to celebrate me as one of your scores! Madeline tapped the elevator button with impatience.

  Employed at the firm for only a few months, he’d already moved past her sales numbers. Excited, hushed talk swirled around the crowded water coolers about the magic Taylor possessed for procuring deals.

  Madeline also heard he’d procured several women from the firm with the same magnetic charm which aided his deal-making hat tricks. Well, I’m no white bunny! It could all just be gossip, but there’s no way I’m climbing into that particular top hat. She struggled to focus her entire attention on the flashing arrow of the elevator light.

  “They haven’t voted yet,” he whispered.

  She really wanted to steal another glimpse of him, which would not pass as advisable under the circumstances. Wincing to control the impulse, she tightened her grip on the handle of her leather briefcase.

  “Oh, come on. You know you got it!” Taylor leaned in a little closer.

  The man always smelled so dammed good. His aftershave must’ve been created from pheromones or something, like Love Potion Number Nine. Private stock, I’ll bet. Well, it won’t work on me. The elevator door opened and, swiftly stepping in, she faced him, her expression emotionless.

  He continued to smile at her. “So? What do ya say?”

  She raised her head and glimpsed the magnetic, attractive man who’d pursued her for months. Keep steady, Maddy. “Busy.” Her clipped answer matched the snapping of the elevator door as it closed in his face.

  San Jose, California

  The hospice staff informed Madeline of her mother’s terminal illness by phone, and the news shocked her. After a rushed drive out of Malibu, she stood in front of her childhood home and realized how many years had passed into successful oblivion since her last visit with her mother. Visit was not the right word for what transpired all those years ago. It was an argument over an old suburb, peaceful, quiet, with families and old couples. Her first big land-grab. A wonderful neighborhood, but it existed right where Madeline and her firm believed a mall and a business complex belonged.

  She remembered that fight only too well, as it caused the break which had separated her from her mother all those years ago. “You should feel ashamed, putting all those poor people out on the street!” Phoebe had exclaimed.

  “It’s just business, Mom. They all got paid for their homes.”

  “Oh, really?” Her mother’s doubtful expression apparent on her face. “At fair value, right?”

  Madeline opened her mouth to reply, but stopped short at Phoebe’s demeaning glare.

  “You have no heart, Maddy—all guts and glory, with no kindness in you at all.”

  The memory elicited a flicker of guilt—a feeling to avoid at all costs, and on her list of absolute no-nos. That stupid twinge of conscience would bring her tumbling from the top, if allowed. She squared her shoulders and marched up the steps.

  Inside, the house shimmered with rays of brilliant sunshine, of course. The atmosphere elicited warmth, reflecting Phoebe’s endearing personality. Madeline stood in the living room and her gaze swung all around. A feeling of soothing peacefulness swept over her as she inhaled the soft scent from the candles and various tropical plants. Phoebe has always been a naturalist. She surveyed the painting-sized photographs which hung on every wall: the Hawaiian waterfalls, the rolling green mountains of the Ozarks and the arid Arabian deserts. Her mother’s skill with a long lens captured a serene, natural world.

  With a courage-building intake of breath, she finally headed up the stairs. If a visitor expected a dark, death-shrouded place of mourning, they’d better think again. Phoebe’s brightly lit, sun-striped room overflowed with coastal sunshine, and all the high, wide windows stood open to admit a gentle sea breeze. Madeline stepped closer to the bed. She appears so peaceful, though I know there must be tremendous pain.

  Phoebe opened her eyes. The tantalizing, brilliant blue remained a family trait, along with her dazzling smile. Madeline shared both.

  “Sit.” Her mother waved toward a bedside chair. “I know how no-nonsense you are, so...” She let out a slight cough.

  She sat forward and opened her mouth to speak, but Phoebe cut her off.

  “Never mind your concern. I’m dying, and it will be soon. I only asked them to call you now because there’s something I need you to do for me. You believe you have no family except me, but that’s not really true. You do have one relative.”

  Madeline showed no expression.

  The familiar habit made her mother laugh. “No need to use that trick on me, sweetie.” Her laughter lapsed into a serious cough.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Phoebe continued to struggle for breath.

  Madeline stood. “Mom?”

  “Just do what I ask, okay? Promise?”

  “But—”

  “Promise!”

  “Okay, Mom, okay!” Madeline had no idea what her mother was asking her to do, but she agreed to keep her calm.

  Phoebe closed her eyes. “Brighter than all the colors in the sky.”

  “What, Mom?”

  “Show you all the true colors of the world.” Phoebe’s smile grew wide.

  She’s delirious. Madeline tried searching for some emotion, lowering her head. My mother lies dying, and I feel numb. Nothing!

  Her mother’s hand grasped hers. “I never said how proud I am of you. The most fun I ever had. All my color, all my pictures, and I lost it.” Phoebe bolted upright in the bed. “Madeline?”

  “Yes, Mom, I’m here.”

  “Not the Madeline you were meant to be. No color, no light…” Lying back on the pillow, Phoebe grew quiet.

  Madeline sat quietly holding her hand in the sunlit room as Phoebe passed from the world.

  The hall overflowed with artists, famous writers, journalists and the elite crowd of the art world in general. Bold letters on the placard proclaimed: Phoebe Case, a life full of light and images. It introduced a sweet memorial, not a funeral, and so typical of Phoebe. Her last wishes were followed to the letter, a tribute featuring no pictures of her, although she’d still been a beauty at fifty. On display instead, were framed and matted samples of her photography—stunning and mesmerizing.

  Madeline left as soon as the last eulogy ended, and made her way to her car.

  “Miss Sayers?” Turning her head, she spotted an older man who wore a warm smile, along with a slightly wrinkled gray suit. “Miss Sayers.” He held out his hand while taking in her cold stare. “I am the executor of your mother’s estate.”

  “Left it all to charity, right?”

  “Most of it. She said you didn’t need...” His voice and offered hand dropped away.

  “So, what do you want?”

  “You get right at it, don’t you?” He cleared his throat. “Well, it seems she left you something.”r />
  “Oh, really?”

  He raised a large manila envelope, handing it to her. “It includes a last request.”

  “Phoebe mentioned something, but she was delirious.”

  The attorney tilted his gray head at her. “She did all of this six months ago, and it’s all in that envelope. Your mother was the most beautiful person, inside and out, and she said she held out one hope for her life.” At her aloof expression, he shook his head. “And, I can see why.”

  “Well, I’m glad for you. Now, if you will pardon me? I have a plane to catch.”

  “Yes, that may very well be, but not for the destination you believe.”

  Opening her car door, she lifted her head. “What?”

  “It’s all in there,” the attorney called over his shoulder as he walked back toward the hall.

  She peered down at the envelope, tossed it on the passenger seat and got in. She drove to her hotel and went up to her luxury room.

  She intended to get this over with and get back to her life.

  Impatient to leave the motel room, along with the entire event of Phoebe’s passing, behind her, Madeline bent to put her folded sweater into her suitcase. She halted and glanced over at the manila envelope for the third time in the past hour. “Dammit!” She ripped it open and dumped the contents out on the bed. A photograph, a sealed, letter-sized envelope and a key fell out. A creased, faded photo of her mother and a man. Wow, he was something. She flipped it over. Rick Sayers and me, 1984. Her dad’s brother?

  Her father, William Sayers, an architect and very accomplished, died early on in her childhood, and she barely remembered him. Why would Phoebe leave me this? She raised the envelope to see Madeline written in Phoebe’s hand on the front, while an odd feeling rippled through her. Stifling the vibe, she tore the envelope open.

  Her mother wrote:

  I hope we had the chance to say good-bye. If not, then it was my fault. I wanted to wait until the very last moment to tell you this.

  Madeline paused, not wanting to read any more, and raised her gaze to the ceiling for a long moment before bending her head again to the letter.