Exclusive Excerpt: The Billionaire's Secrets by J.S. Scott + Giveaway
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The Billionaire's Secrets by J.S. Scott
A Wall Street Journal bestselling series.
Former rock star Xander Sinclair may be out of rehab, but he’s not out of the woods. Still haunted by his parents’ murders, he has secluded himself in his Amesport mansion and dodges any attempted contact from his two brothers. Struggling not to fall into relapse, he believes he’s battling his demons alone.
That is, until Samantha arrives to work as his live-in housekeeper. Effortlessly charming and cheerful and wickedly sexy, she challenges Xander to abandon his isolation. The two embark on a fiery relationship—one that could change them both forever.
Just when Xander is on the verge of reclaiming his life, he discovers that Samantha has been hiding things from him…things that could shatter the fragile future they’ve begun to build together. For Xander, escaping the past is no longer an option. It’s time to face it—even when some secrets seem too heavy for the heart to bear.
I woke up that night to the sound of Samantha’s bloodcurdling scream.
I bolted upright as the next strangled cry got louder and more terrified than the one before it.
I cursed, then vaulted out of bed to sprint to her room next door, not caring that I was as naked as the day I was born.
I slammed my hand against the light switch, flooding the room with illumination. “Sam,” I bellowed, afraid of what might be happening to her.
She wasn’t the type of woman to panic over nothing.
I’d kill whoever it was that was hurting her.
Stopping short of the bed, I realized nobody was touching her, and there wasn’t anyone or anything out of place in the room. Her scantily clad body was thrashing in the bed, her blonde hair tangled across her face as she seemed to be fighting some kind of war in her nightmare.
“No, please. Don’t,” she whimpered. My heart slammed against my chest wall as I realized she was caught in a nightmare she obviously couldn’t escape.
Christ! I knew that fear, the horror of being in the grips of something terrible happening in my dreams.
I sat on the bed and gently shook her shoulder. “Sam! Wake up! You’re having a bad dream.”
Pushing the hair back that was covering her face, I waited for her eyes to open. When she didn’t respond, I said louder, more desperate, “Sam! Goddamnit! Wake up!”
I hated the idea of her suffering a moment longer.
It tore at my guts to see the woman who had become the only light in my darkness tormented like this. But whatever was torturing her didn’t seem to want to give her up.
“Sam!” I bellowed her name so loud that everybody in the damn hotel could probably hear it, but I didn’t care.
Suddenly, she sat up in the bed, her eyes open, and let out a final spine-tingling screech.
For a moment, she was completely still, her vacant, horrified expression finally crumpling as her body started shaking and a sob escaped her lips. “Dream. It was only a dream.”
“You’re okay, Sam,” I said quietly from my place beside her.
“Xander?” She turned her head to look at me, appearing confused.
“You were having a nightmare,” I explained. “I heard you.”
She raked a hand through her hair. “Oh, God. It was so horrible this time,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Another heart-wrenching sob escaped her trembling body, and I quickly wrapped my arms around her, wanting to protect her from anything that would cause the haunted look on her face. “You’re okay, Sam. Everything is fine. It was all a bad dream.”
She let loose as she wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging to me like I was her only safety in a dark place. I had no idea what kind of dream would break a woman as strong as Samantha, but I just held her tightly as she cried against my shoulder, every tear that she shed like a knife to my chest.
Sam gave so selflessly, and she never lost her compassion, even though she should have lost any for me the first day she’d come to my house. I’d done nothing but take from her. Hell, I’d even used her body. Yet she never blamed me for a goddamn thing.
I was convinced she was my angel.
And angels should never weep.
My grip tightened on her body, trying to make her feel safe. “It will be okay, Sam. I promise.”
Somehow, I’d find a way to make her anguish go away.
Her flood of tears and painful cries had quieted, and all I could feel was the heat of her heavy breath on my neck.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I haven’t had a nightmare for a long time.”
“What was it?” I couldn’t figure out what the hell would affect her this way. I’d always suspected that Samantha might not have had it easy in the past. I’d wondered if she’d somehow understood my mind because she’d had her own struggles.
I swung my body onto the bed and pulled her into my lap, cradling her against me as I leaned back against the headboard. I tried not to notice that all she was wearing was a short, lightweight red nightshirt.
Now wasn’t the time for all my horny fantasies about Samantha to spring to life.
“Something that happened in the past,” she suddenly answered in a breathless, husky voice.
“What?” I wanted to know what in the hell was haunting her so I could kill it.
J.S. Scott is a NY Times & USA Today bestselling author of erotic romance. She's an avid reader of all types of books and literature. Writing what she loves to read, J.S. Scott writes both contemporary erotic romance stories and paranormal romance erotics. They almost always feature an Alpha Male and have a happily ever after because she just can't seem to write them any other way! She lives with her husband in the picturesque Colorado Rockies. You can write to the author at firstname.lastname@example.org.