The Billionaire's Gift: Secret Billionaire's Club, #9

By Tracey Pedersen

Billionaire versus sexy Christmas elf...

Sam Maynard is melancholy this Christmas. His long term business is now in the hands of someone else, he can't find the perfect gift for his parents, and the enormous secret he shares with eight of his closest friends is about to hit the news. To complicate matters, his biological clock just started to tick. Loudly.

When he stumbles across a mischievous Christmas elf, the season becomes even more infuriating. And more enticing.

Holly King agreed to wear the costume to help out her old boss. She plans to be the sassiest Christmas elf ever and make some kids happy this festive season. What a contrast for a woman who never seems to get her own Christmas wish. When the zipper malfunctions on her borrowed little red dress, her sexy elf persona will take her places she never expected.

Why shouldn't a woman named after the season have a little holiday fun when the opportunity drops into her lap?

Can Sam and Holly make their own kind of mischief? Or will this elf go back on the shelf when Christmas morning dawns?

 

The Secret Billionaire's Club Books:

The Billionaire's Heart
The Billionaire's Luck
The Billionaire's Treat
The Billionaire's Duty
The Billionaire's Spark
The Billionaire's Club
The Billionaire's Scare
The Billionaire's Feast
The Billionaire's Gift
The Billionaire's Surprise

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daring Online Adventures
• Release date: Jan 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648584094

Tracey Pedersen

Tracey Pedersen is an Australian USA Today Bestselling author who has finally accepted that she is meant to write, write, write! In 2016 she released her first romance novel and hasn't looked back. Now writing full time, and fighting the urge to write every second of the day, she loves travel, crocheting, replying to reader emails and spending WAY too much time on Facebook!

Book preview

Chapter One - Sam

Christmas shopping…

An activity I find stressful, time consuming, and at times, depressing. Take today as the perfect example. I need a gift for my mum and dad, and there’s absolutely nothing here I’d consider giving them. This is the fourth store I’ve visited, and I’ve almost had enough of the crowds.

And the noise.

I tried online shopping like Danny suggested, but a week before Christmas I still have no idea. I want their gift to be perfect. To say that I’ve really thought about them this year. I want to see their eyes light up when they unwrap it and know their only son went out of his way to find them something special.

I’m close with my parents even though they live two states away. It’s a direct contrast to some of my friends, who seem to have the occasional issue with their overbearing mothers or their absent fathers. That doesn’t describe me at all. So, I’m searching for the perfect gift, even though I won’t see them open it in person this year. Mum decided to book them a getaway, which I’m still frowning about. We usually spend the day together.

Hi, I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.

Nope.

I’m practicing my introductions under my breath as I amble through the fragrance section of whatever department store I’ve wandered into. Sayer signed me up for an upmarket speed dating thing tonight and I’m dreading it. Absolutely dreading it.

Sam. I could add a pause for a 007-type effect. Nice to see you.

No. Dammit.

I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.

Did you say something, Sir? Can I help you?

Sorry. Just talking to myself.

I shrug and move away from the shop assistant, anxious to blend into the Christmas crowd. That takes no effort, and I’m soon swept along a busy walkway, surrounded on all sides by frazzled parents and excited children. I manage to push through to a quieter area of the store, and I chuckle when I see the fully laden bookshelves perused by three solitary shoppers.

Santa doesn’t appear to be bringing many books this year.

I haven’t had time to roam through a bookshop in years, and I take the opportunity to move down the shelves, picking up books with covers that catch my eye, their blurbs quickly devoured. The benefits of selling an all-consuming business are becoming obvious, sometimes in interesting ways.

My phone vibrates, and I pull it out, tucking a book under my arm.

Hey, Sayer. I’m still going if that’s what you’re calling for.

He laughs. Well, that’s part of it, but the other part is that the articles will hit the news tomorrow.

Okay. This is it, then. Our last day of anonymity.

Seems like. Won’t we feel like dicks if no one even cares?

Maybe. I’m one of the ones who don’t really care, so I’m just going to go along as usual.

No plans for tomorrow?

Nope. Probably a sleep in after tonight. Then read a book or two. I take the title from under my arm and scan the blurb. Walk the dogs. Eat lunch and dinner. Repeat.

While we’re on holiday we’re going to discuss your plans to keep busy now that you don’t have a job. Sayer laughs. Danny can share his tips.

Well, I can tell you one thing. I glance around. I finally understand his passion for online shopping.

You’re well ahead of me, then. Talk tomorrow. He disconnects the call and I mull over the quiet week I have planned.

Any other year I’d be preparing for Christmas and New Year fireworks with sixteen-hour days. My team would be checking in with nearly a hundred clients, making sure their show is exactly what they want. I’d be worrying over every detail, making lists, checking and rechecking that the unassuming canisters were packed properly, connected in the right places, and ready to fill the sky with spectacular colour and sound for the big events. Safety would be front of mind for my staff, as well as for tens of thousands of spectators.

Instead of that flurry of activity, I’m shopping.

With an unchecked lack of enthusiasm as the squeals of happy children fill the air. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. The squeals of excited children are having a distinct effect on me this year. If I peer through the archway in the store, I can see where the excited queue leads. The one I just escaped from.

Santa is sitting on a heavily decorated throne, a sack at his feet, his booming voice travelling all the way to me. As each new child approaches, he presents them with a small gift and smiles heartily for the photos the department store is handing out for free. I turn my attention to the exit line which runs right past the books. Kids are smiling and chattering, showing their parents what Santa gave them, confident that whatever they asked him for will magically appear under their tree when the big day arrives.

For the first time in my entire life I wonder what it would be like to have a small person look up at me like that.

How would it feel to know you could make little dreams come true by providing a much yearned-for toy, or a piece of clothing, or a puppy? What would a child of mine look like? Would they inherit my eyes? Or my slightly crooked nose? My voice? If I were blessed with a child, with an as yet unidentified partner, would I have a tired but satisfied smile stretched across my face, like the parents I’ve seen today?

Staring at children in public is probably not recommended for men shopping alone, but I can’t seem to look away from the scenes playing out in front of me. How did I get to my thirties and not wonder all these things before today?

Sam? Is that you? A voice rings out across the store, and I turn toward the crime section, eyes searching the foot of space above the shelves for a familiar face. Instead of greeting an acquaintance, I’m transported back ten years with a jolt. To a time when my business dreams were just taking shape. A time when I thought I knew exactly what my future would look like when I got here. A time that had nothing in common with where I find myself now.

Holly? How bizarre to see her among the books, just like the day we met. I almost want to check my phone and make sure I haven’t travelled through time. She looks almost exactly the same. Long black hair. Dark eyes that pull you in and insist you find out more. Red lips with a perfect bow atop their pouty stance. I lick my own lips, memories of kissing hers immediately bursting in front of my eyes. I’m lost for words, so I repeat myself. Holly?

She’s already around the bookcase and moving toward me when she answers. Yes, it’s me. How are you? Her arms wrap around me before I can answer, their warmth reminding me of other days just like this one. She squeezes, and at the last moment I remember to raise my arms and hug her, too. She pulls back, her hands on my shoulders like she’s looking over a small child. Time has been kind to you. Still as hot as ever. She laughs, and steps back, pulling her handbag to the front and looking me in the eye. What have you been up to?

Today? Or for life since we last saw each other? I sound like a fool, but she laughs again, the melodic sound