Taken by the Pirate Billionaire

  Published by Shelli Stevens

  Copyright © 2013 by Shelli Stevens

  Cover by Vidette McDowall

  ISBN: 978-0-615-93993-3

  This ebook was formally published as The Pirate’s Booty, but has been significantly rewritten. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at shelli@shellistevens.com.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. www.shellistevens.com.

  Acknowledgments

  Huge thanks to Megan for your fabulous editing skills. To Lucinda and Laurie for your mad formatting skills. To Vidette for a gorgeous cover as always. And finally to my family, friends and readers for being so wonderful and supportive.

  Chapter One

  God what a night.

  Renee Hawkins squinted into the darkness and tried to ignore the heavy gusts of wind that rocked her compact car. It was one of those nights where the weather was so awful it was better just to stay home than venture out.

  Unfortunately, staying at home with a pint of ice cream and a romantic comedy movie marathon wasn’t going to happen.

  No, tonight she had other plans, and this weather was just an unnerving backdrop for what she was about to do. Crash a party thrown by a pirate and steal a priceless brooch right out from under his nose. No big deal.

  “And you’re a freaking drama queen,” she muttered aloud, flexing her fingers around the steering wheel. “He’s no more a pirate than you are.”

  Okay, maybe Devon Murray wasn’t technically a pirate, but it was rumored that he was descended from one, and was no less intimidating. He was a former hacker, turned creator of the popular social media platform Overshare. Since it was currently taking the world by storm, it meant Mr. Murray was now a billionaire—and a super kinky billionaire at that, if she believed the rumors.

  No one really knew, and if they did, they wouldn’t confirm it. All she knew of Devon Murray was what the rest of the world knew—just certain tidbits that had been come from media stories, and news and magazine articles. And even though there was an abundance of them, they barely scratched the surface of the notorious, mysterious man who evoked so much curiosity.

  He was rarely photographed, so she pretty much had no idea what he looked like. For the most part Eric Ross, the co-founder of Overshare, was the public face. Devon was a man who obviously valued his privacy and kept his identity pretty well hidden. Any time a picture would be required for interviews or social media, there was simply a black rose as a symbol.

  Which made it fitting that the silk black rose on her passenger seat was also the ticket into the party tonight.

  Her best friend Lucy, who’d tipped her off to his party this evening, was going to meet her there. Lucy had snagged a legit invite when she’d begun dating the co-founder of Overshare. The two had met when he’d come in to be interviewed for the radio show she was a DJ on.

  So Lucy’s invite to the party was real, it was only Renee’s who wasn’t. Her friend was taking a risk for her tonight. A big one. She had the impression that neither Eric nor Devon was the kind of man you screwed with.

  Renee jumped as her cell phone came to life, her nerves were so shot. Activating her blue tooth, she answered.

  “Hey,” Lucy murmured. “It’s me. Are you almost there?”

  “Yes. Maybe five minutes out.”

  “Good. Did you dress sexy?”

  “I think so. I’m wearing this corset type thing that makes my boobs look ginormous. My skirt’s way too short. And my makeup—fuck, I look like I should be walking the streets, Luce.”

  “You sound perfect. Tonight you can’t be your normal safe, quirky, and just-off-the-farm looking Renee. Tonight you need to be a walking sex bomb. Sensual. Confident.” Lucy paused. “And open-minded, if you’re going to be convincing. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” And maybe if she told herself that enough, she’d start to believe it. Delusion was a beautiful thing.

  Her hands tightened to a death grip on the steering wheel as sweat trickled between her breasts.

  “Channel your inner call girl. Just don’t let yourself think about it too much, and just, you know, enjoy yourself.”

  “Okay if you don’t stop talking to me about this? I’m going to lose my nerve, turn my car around and drive home.”

  “You can’t afford to,” Lucy reminded her. “You have to take this chance.”

  “I know.”

  If she didn’t take this chance, it meant her grandparents could lose their home. She couldn’t let that happen, not after they’d raised her when her druggie parents had left her on their doorstep as a baby and disappeared onto the streets. It was only recently that Renee had discovered her grandparents had taken a second mortgage to pay for her college, and were unable to pay it back.

  So if there was any way she could help them, she would do it.

  “I’m almost there, Lucy. I just turned onto the road that leads to his property. The code worked perfectly at the gates.”

  The canopy of trees snuffed out the moonlight. Anxiety clawed at her stomach and she sucked in a slow breath. The road was private and went on for a few miles, before it emerged out of the trees and into a clearing.

  “Okay, I’ll let you go. I’m probably ten minutes behind you in my car. But remember—you don’t know me if you see me.” Lucy’s tone was firm. “We have no connection. I don’t exist. Just do your thing.”

  “Got it. You don’t exist. It’s just me...” Terrified out of her mother-freaking mind. “Love ya, Luce.”

  “Love you, too. Be careful.”

  “Back at ya.” She ended the call, knowing her friend was probably going to be just as over her head at this party as Renee was.

  Thoughts of her friend disappeared as the Murray estate came into view. It was massive and took her breath away. Located on acres of land in Northern California, the house itself was large and Tudor in style—easily over a hundred years old.

  Renee wasn’t surprised to see a valet as she pulled up to the house. She turned into the circular drive, stopped, and climbed out of her car.

  For a moment her legs wobbled and she was tempted to turn and jump back behind the wheel. Only after drawing in a deep breath did she hand her key to the valet and watch as he got into her car and drove off.

  You can do this. You’ve got to do this.

  Getting onto the estate hadn’t been a problem—but getting through the door would be. Then again, she’d come prepared for this next part.

  Renee followed another couple as they strode briskly up to the huge oak front door. She fidgeted with the black rose in her hand, her stomach flipping as she spotted a large blond man in a tuxedo standing guard at the door. Was he a butler? Or a bouncer?

  In front of her was a tall redhead in a slinky dress, her arm held by a man that looked distinguished in his well-tailored suit. The man handed their black rose to the bouncer who gave it a thorough inspection.

  Renee bit her lip in nervous anticipation. With a bit of luck her knockoff version would pass his close scrutiny, but she was starting to wonder. Maybe they were covered in some kind of ultraviolet ink or something. Had some kind of chip implanted.

  Crap. If so, she was screwed.

  The bouncer placed the c
ouple’s rose-invitation with others in a large crystal vase on a table just inside the foyer.

  “Please step inside so you may be prepared,” the bouncer told the couple.

  “Mmm, I’ve heard about this part.” The woman cooed as she stepped forward.

  After the two stepped inside, the bouncer followed, leaving the door slightly ajar. Curious as to just what the ‘preparation’ entailed, Renee edged forward to peak through the crack into the foyer.

  The woman stood against the wall, her back to the bouncer standing in an intimate position behind her. Her date was in a similar position, but instead of a male bouncer, a woman in black leather had come up behind him.

  The bouncer slid his hands around the front of the woman, and into the V of her dress.

  Holy crap!

  Renee’s mouth parted in a silent gasp as the bouncer pulled the woman’s breasts free from her slinky red dress. He covered her small, pale breasts with his massive hands and began rubbing his palms across her nipples.

  Renee tried to stifle her shocked groan as all questions about what ‘preparation’ meant were answered. Even while part of her was going into shock, there was another part of her stirring at the sensual sight.

  She watched as the bouncer lowered one hand to the woman’s thigh, and then up and under her dress. A moment later the woman surrendered a long, throaty moan.

  Renee pulled away from the door and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the stimulating image.

  Oh God.

  Lucy had warned her this was a very sexy type of party, but she hadn’t expected this. To get groped at the door by someone she didn’t even know. She couldn’t do this. She could not do this.

  The door opened and the bouncer appeared. The smile on his face contained entirely too much anticipation for her taste as he approached her.

  Inside the house a man scanned the surveillance monitors showing different areas of the house and property.

  All was running well tonight—nothing out of the ordinary or suspicious to give him pause.

  Satisfied that everything seemed under control, he started to turn away from the monitor when he noticed her. The woman stood in the doorway on the front porch, glancing inside the entryway with an expression of utter shock.

  “Well hello, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You don’t belong here, do you?”

  He zoomed in on her on the screen and made another murmur of interest.

  The woman had made a fine effort to fit in, with her pretty red corset, tight and short skirt, and then those stilettos, which were undeniably hot.

  But her demeanor screamed straitlaced. She glanced back to the valet, as if tempted to make a run for it. Instead of bolting, though, she looked back at Kurt—the Pleasure Greeter currently on duty.

  Unable to draw his gaze away, he glanced her over again almost analytically.

  She really was incredibly sexy, with a voluptuous body that reminded him of the playmates from eras long ago. Her shiny, chestnut hair fell in a straight curtain down her back. And her breasts were milky and white, and seemed ready to pop out of her revealing corset.

  What color would her nipples be? Were they large or small?

  With sudden dismay, he realized his cock was stirring. And just from looking her, he mused. Now that was something that hadn’t happened in a while.

  The woman bit her lip and folded her arms under her breasts, which just plumped them up higher in the corset. Again, she glanced at the valet.

  The idea of letting her leave the premises sent displeasure through him for more than one reason.

  Moving away from the monitor, he turned and left the room. It was time to relieve Kurt of his duties for a while.

  Chapter Two

  “Your rose, ma’am?”

  Fingers trembling, Renee thrust the rose at the bouncer, almost hoping he would realize it was a fake.

  She must be out of her mind to think that an antique brooch was reason enough to go through that door.

  “This isn’t authentic.”

  Renee’s stomach dropped. Okay, so getting what she wished for was overrated. She had to get into the house, failure wasn’t an option. Finding that brooch was her last hope.

  “You must be mistaken.” She lifted her chin and gave the bouncer her most haughty look. Hopefully it didn’t look as ridiculous as it felt. “I insist you let me pass. Mr. Murray is expecting me.”

  The man’s expression didn’t change, nor did he move aside. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, ma’am, or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

  “Is there a problem, Kurt?”

  Both Renee and the bouncer looked up as another man appeared in the doorway. Like Kurt, this man also wore a tux. But somehow this man—with his dark hair and eyes—seemed more imposing. He wasn’t as tall as the first bouncer, but just as broad in the shoulders and with a more solid build.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” Kurt glanced at the other man. “This woman is trying to gain entrance with a counterfeit rose.”

  “It isn’t counterfeit.” The lie sounded feeble on her lips. “As I said before, Mr. Murray is expecting me and he’ll be furious if you don’t let me pass.”

  “I believe you are due for a break, Kurt.” The man turned to face the bouncer with a brief smile. “I will relieve you.”

  The other man looked taken aback. “But—”

  “Thank you, Kurt.” Their gazes locked and something passed silently between the two men.

  “Of course.” Kurt gave a slow nod, handed him Renee’s rose, and then retreated inside the house.

  Renee turned to face the replacement bouncer and swallowed hard.

  The man stared down at her in the way a cat might watch a cornered mouse. The look in his eyes was blatantly sexual as his gaze moved over her body. Finally his mouth curved into a smile, but he didn’t look amused. He glanced down at the rose in his hand and spun it in a slow circle.

  “It might be a little bent,” she said cautiously. “It was in my car.”

  “The rose is fine.” He took a step toward her. “Kurt misjudged. I think he’s been on shift for too long today.”

  The sudden proximity of his body to hers made her knees threaten to give out.

  “Please, come inside for your preparation.”

  His hand settled low on her back as he guided her under the archway and through the massive door. She trembled at the slight contact. He wasn’t a conventionally handsome man. A scar marred his left cheek and his nose looked like it had probably been broken at some time during his life. Still, her body reacted to him as if he were some kind of sex God.

  The foyer of the house was dark, with only a few candles burning in the entryway. She glanced down the hall, noting they were completely alone in the cold silence.

  “Please stand against the wall, facing away from me.” His command resonated in the foyer, deep and abrasive, sending chills of forewarning down her spine.

  You can do this. You have to do this. Renee finally convinced her feet to move forward and take the few steps to the stone wall.

  She sensed his hard body before he touched her. His breath fell warm and intimate on the back of her neck. Then his hands settled firmly on her waist. Her pulse jumped to double time, and she could barely draw in a breath.

  “What is your name?”

  Her eyes fluttered shut.

  “Renee.” She should have lied, but her mind was all fuzzy and she could only focus on the strong hands sliding inward over her stomach.

  “Renee,” he said, so close to her neck she felt his lips brush against her sensitized skin. She shivered. “Have you attended one of Devon Murray’s parties before?”

  Even through the fabric of the corset, Renee responded to the fingers inching their way up towards her breasts.

  Fake it. She bit her lip before giving a surprisingly calm reply. “I’ve been to a few. You must have been off those nights.”

  His laugh, low and seductive, echoed throughout the foyer. What
had she said that was so amusing?

  Suddenly he pushed her closer to the wall and she turned her face to the side to avoid the hard and rough surface.

  “So you know what to expect then.” With no more preliminaries, his hand had reached her breast and closed over it through the corset.

  “Y-yes.” Well, if getting groped was the answer.

  “Wonderful.”

  He delved one hand into the bodice of her corset and cupped her breast, his thumb stroking firmly over her nipple.

  Oh, God! Her knees buckled, but his body pressing against hers kept her from falling.

  A second later he pulled her breast up and over the edge of the fabric. Cool air rushed over her exposed skin and her nipples grew tight.

  “You have amazing breasts, Renee.” His breath tickled her ear as he pulled her other breast free from its restraints.

  He plucked both of her nipples in quick, rhythmic strokes, shocking her with almost frightening pleasure. His touch was so knowing. Almost clinical. It was embarrassing how easily she responded to it. How liquid heat gathered low in her belly now.

  “Do you like this?” His question was calm. Just as detached as his touch.

  Renee exhaled a long, shuddering breath, intensely aware of the bulge of his sex pressing hard against her waist.

  He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back, forcing her breast more firmly into his hand and making her more vulnerable to him.

  “Tell me you like it, Renee.”

  “I...I like it,” she whispered, hating herself a little because it was true.

  This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like this shameless hussy. What the hell was happening here?

  “Good, girl. Your preparation is almost complete,” he said. “Now for verification.”

  She whimpered as one of his hands abandoned her breast and slid back down her stomach. A moment passed as he worked his fingers beneath the waistband of her skirt.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Renee blinked, hesitating.

  “Spread your legs,” he repeated, pulling her hair again and tilting her head back further.