My Billionaire Savior: In His Debt

By Lilith T. Bell

He saved her...

When Dez Hart met the gorgeous billionaire Giovanni Pryce, he offered her a job as his personal assistant and to pay for her father's cancer treatments. It was more than she could expect from anyone, let alone a complete stranger. But the innocent Dez isn't prepared for a job that will consume her or the smoldering hunger that develops between her and her new boss.

...but can she save him?

There are rules for working for Mr. Pryce. Don't talk about his family. Don't question him about his past. Don't interrupt him when he's playing his violin, under any circumstances. Yet Dez aches to break through the walls he's built around his heart, to learn his secrets, to free him from his torment and to explore the dark desires that they both share.

Excerpt:

“Wait.”

I was halfway down the front hall when I heard a man’s voice behind me. It was a young voice and deep, clearly not belonging to my aunt’s elderly butler. Hesitantly, I turned around to see who had spoken and found myself face to face with the mystery man. Up close, I could see flecks of gold in the rich brown of his eyes.

“Who are you?” I demanded. “Why is this any of your business?”

“Giovanni Pryce.” He said it as if it should mean something to me, but it didn’t. The unfamiliarity of his full name didn’t mean I hadn’t heard about him before, though. I drew my brows together, trying to think.

His head tilted slightly, one corner of his mouth quirking into a self-deprecating smirk. “CEO of Phoenix Motors and Pezzo di Sole,” he added.

The second name rolled off his tongue in a way I couldn’t hope to replicate. For all that his English was probably better than mine, his Italian was native. I had heard of the first company. They produced electric cars and were becoming some stiff competition, thanks to their speed and affordability. I had no idea what the company with the Italian name did, though. Knowing how big Phoenix Motors was getting, I could guess that he was filthy rich.

“Okay.” I had no idea what the man wanted and after having been treated so terribly by Marie, all I wanted to do was find a private place to cry. I sniffled a little, trying to wipe away a tear discretely. “I’m not trying to be rude, Mr. Pryce, but what is it you want?”

He frowned and patted at the pockets of his slacks, but didn’t find what he was looking for. When he moved closer to touch my face, I stiffened. He only dabbed away my tears with his thumb. “I wanted to know why you were here. I haven’t seen many people go toe to toe with her like that.”

“I wanted my mother’s inheritance from her grandmother,” I said, a bit cautious about saying more. He just kept looking at me with those gold-flecked eyes, his hand now cupping my cheek. It was hard to breathe with him so close. It was harder still to not answer all of the unspoken questions in his eyes. “My father’s seriously ill and his insurance won’t pay for the treatment he needs. He also runs his own business and without him it’s falling apart. They’re in danger of losing their house. I just...thought that family might matter more than things.”

Mr. Pryce smiled faintly, looking down for a moment, his gaze hidden behind those dense lashes. “It does, to some people,” he said.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selkie Publishing
• Release date: Oct 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301098323

Book preview

My Billionaire Savior: In His Debt Part 1

by Lilith T. Bell

***

If the circumstances were different, I might have enjoyed having a gorgeous man staring at me as if he thought I was the most interesting woman on the planet. His thick golden-brown hair was tousled slightly and the ivory button up shirt draped from his broad shoulders in that way that only silk could. Leaning in the doorway as he was, he looked almost as though he was posing for a photographer. His arms were crossed casually across his chest, the silk drawn tight over his biceps. The black linen trousers flattered sculpted, muscular legs and I imagined they had to have been tailored just for that purpose.

It was his face that was distracting me the most, though. A solid, square jaw framed full lips that looked softer than the silk of his shirt. He had a well shaped straight nose, reminiscent of Michelangelo’s statue of David. Expressive brown eyes watched me like a hawk, fringed by thick lashes a shade darker than the hair on his head. I’d never found brown eyes to be that interesting, but on him they were hypnotic. The exact shade was difficult to pin down. If he turned his head so a shadow fell across them they looked almost black, but when he raised his face and the sunlight from the window caught them they looked a brilliant auburn color.

I’m not asking for anything that wasn’t my mother’s rightful property, I said to my aunt, doing my best to ignore the mysterious man in the doorway.

I watched my aunt’s lips thin, her nostrils flaring with disgust. The jewelry consists of family heirlooms. She is no longer family.

How Aunt Marie could stay alive with ice water in her veins, I couldn’t imagine. When my mother had gotten pregnant by the son of the gardener the summer before she left for college, her parents had thrown her out. They had fired the gardener as well, my grandfather. She was written out of her parents’ wills and now both of them were dead and her younger sister Marie had inherited everything.

My eyes flicked toward the man watching from the doorway. His clothing and air of casual elegance made it clear that he wasn’t some hired help, but who was he? Marie had never had any children, so he couldn’t be some long lost cousin.

I turned my attention back to my aunt and took a deep breath. "She inherited all of it from your grandmother. It belongs to her."

Because our grandmother wanted it to stay in the family, not end up in a pawn shop or whatever you have planned.

I clenched my jaw, tears pricking at my eyes. When I spoke again, it was a bit more forceful than I’d intended, because it was the only way to push my voice past my tightening throat. Then you could just give her the money that it’s worth and keep the collection.

Marie scoffed at that before rising from her chaise lounge. She smoothed her hands over her dress, brushing away imaginary wrinkles. And why would I pay for something I already have? she asked. If all you’re going to do is keep whining for charity, I think it’s time for you to leave.

There was no stopping the tears now. I turned on my heel and hurried out of the room. That she had agreed to see me had been a miracle and it had given me some false hope that maybe she actually cared about her sister. That hope hadn’t lasted long when I saw the irritation and disgust bleed into her eyes during my explanation of what I needed. Maybe I had committed some sort of