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  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Melissa Hosack

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-483-2

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JC Chute

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  A special thanks to all of my readers. I truly appreciate your amazing feedback and support.

  STEALING THE BILLIONAIRE'S HEART

  Melissa Hosack

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  Nixie Schuler was running late for the millionth time in her life. Unfortunately, this occasion could quite possibly mean her job. She’d been late one too many times for her boss, Joseph Cartwright.

  Joe was a friend of her mother’s, and this usually meant he gave her more slack than he did anyone else, but his patience and generosity were limited. He would usually let her slide time after time, but last week, he kindly let her know he was growing weary of her excuses.

  She couldn’t help her tardiness, though. It was beyond her control. She was born clumsy. It was a curse. A pesky little curse that caused her to be late twice last week. The first time, she spilled coffee down the front of her cream-colored sweater, forcing her to turn back home and change her shirt. The second instance, she dropped her car keys back inside her car as she was slamming the door shut, effectively locking herself out. She’d proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes trying to retrieve them.

  Today she’d had the pleasure of catching her heel in the grating of the parking garage floor. She struggled, pulled, and fought until––one snapped heel and thirteen minutes later––she was once again running behind schedule.

  Now she was sprinting down the crowded city streets barefoot and disheveled. She burst into the small jewelry shop where she worked, her breath coming out in short gasps. She rushed behind the sales counter, dumping her purse to the floor. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath before Joe was at her side.

  “You’re late,” he said unnecessarily.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” she apologized with a pant. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “It’s never your fault,” Joe came back. “You’ve got the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever known. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re unreliable.”

  Nixie tried to keep her features from showing how much his words stung. “Come on, Joe,” she begged. “I outsell any of your other employees. I never let you down when I’m here.”

  “When you’re here,” he stressed. He let out a weary sigh and ran his hands over his face. “I just don’t know what to do with you, Nixie. Your mother…”

  Nixie rushed in, not wanting him to finish that sentence. “I got stuck in a grating!” She held up her destroyed shoe. “I could have broken my ankle!” The damaged heel wobbled comically in the air, summing up her bad morning. “I…”

  The sound of someone’s clearing throat drew attention to the customer who had just entered the store and strolled straight to the counter.

  The most gorgeous man Nixie had ever seen in her life stood facing them, a slightly amused grin on his face.

  He was the perfect male specimen, the perfect male cliché: tall, dark, and handsome. She would place him at 6’2”, and every inch was yummy. He had thin, slender shoulders that her hand itched to caress. His hair was chocolate brown, swept back from his face, the ends brushing the edge of his collar in the back. His deeply tanned face held the most brilliant blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  Nixie recognized that face instantly.

  He was Nicholas Morgan, one of the wealthiest men in the state, perhaps the country. His grandfather had owned a large chunk of land that just happened to have more oil than they knew what to do with. The oil refinery had been passed on to Nick’s father, and then six months ago to Nick. At twenty-eight, he was probably the richest man his age. And there he was, standing in front of her, staring at her broken heel.

  Nixie’s jaw dropped and she gaped at him in shock. She couldn’t get her brain to function. She just stared, gawking at his expensive suit and the perfect body that accompanied it.

  “Can I interrupt,” he asked in a low, smooth voice, “or do you need more time to mourn the shoe?”

  In embarrassment, Nixie let go of the shoe, trying not to cringe when it landed on her toe. She forced a tight smile to her lips, covering up the pain. “You can interrupt.” She frowned, realizing how that sounded. “I mean…it’s no interruption at all.”

  A hint of a grin crossed that devilishly handsome face. “That’s a relief.”

  Nixie and Joe just stared at him, star struck.

  It was when Nick arched his eyebrows questioningly that Nixie’s brain snapped back into function mode. “Oh…um…is there…anything I can help you with?” she asked, brushing a stray hair away from her face.

  “Yeah,” Nick said slowly, an absolutely charming, full out grin spreading across his face.

  Her eyes narrowed at him. He had to be doing that on purpose, shooting her his adorable grin to throw her off.

  “You can help me with some jewelry,” he said teasingly, as if asking what else he could possibly want in a jewelry store.

  Nixie stared at him in silence for a moment before letting out a mortifying bark of laughter. “I guess so.” Trying to save herself, she waved a hand in the air, motioning to the counter between them. “We’ve got a wide variety. Is there anything in particular you fancy?”

  “I think I like what’s sitting right in front of my nose,” Nick replied casually.

  Nixie froze, startled eyes meeting his. Was Nicholas Morgan hitting on her? There was no possible way. He was rich. He was gorgeous. He was …

  Well, he was Nicholas Morgan.

  His fingers tapped the display case between them, bringing Nixie’s attention to it. “This necklace,” he said, still tapping the case above a heart-shaped locket. “This will do.”

  * * *

  Nick watched as the girl in front of him, ‘Nixie’ as her nametag read, began blushing furiously.

  She had a creamy, pale complexion, so the blush stood out quite startlingly. With slightly trembling fingers, she grabbed a key ring from her waist and tried jamming it into the display case lock. The keys slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. Her face twisted into a grimace as she bent down to pick them up.

  Nick watched her in amusement. There was something about her that he thought was absolutely adorable. From her loose, long black curls to the smoky, gray eyes. The broken heel, the chipped nail polish. She was just so…un-Hollywood. It was refreshing.

  There was a sudden, loud ‘bam’ and the counter shook under his hand. It took him a moment to realize she’d cracked her head against it. Nick leaned over to find her seated on the floor with a slightly dazed expression on her face.

  Without even thinking, he hopped over the small divider that separated them and was crouched down next to her. He barely registered the store manager’s surprise at his reaction. All he cared about was making sure the girl in front of him was uninjured. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

  Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing him across the counter. She blinked a couple times before bringing her fingers to her scalp. “Did I hit my head again?”
/>   ‘Again?’ Nick silently asked. Did this girl have a habit of cracking her noggin on things? “I’m afraid so,” he answered solemnly. Reaching a hand up, he gingerly ran his fingers over the lump that was already forming, sliding his fingers through her silky soft hair. “You’ve got a bump,” he informed her, relieved that it was nothing more serious, “but I don’t think you did any lasting damage.”

  “How embarrassing,” she breathed out in a whoosh.

  Nick froze as her breath brushed along his lips. He hadn’t realized how close they were until now. He hovered above her upturned face, his mouth distressingly close to hers. He felt his body begin to react in a way that would surely make them both uncomfortable. “Well,” he cried, jumping back as if burnt, “looks like you’re going to be just fine. If you’ll bag up that necklace for me, I’ll be out of your way.”

  * * *

  Nixie struggled to her feet, still rubbing her head. When she got to an upright stance, her nose was practically in Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome’s chest.

  Clearing his throat, Nick took a giant step back and looked pointedly at the display case.

  “Right,” she said slowly, trying to regain her bearings as Nick eased past the small counter divider Joe held up for him. “The necklace.” Being extra careful this time, she opened the case and pulled the shining chain out. “Don’t you want to get a better look … or see the price?”

  He waved her away. “No, it’s fine.”

  Nixie relocked the case once the necklace was free. “Is this for Miss December?” she asked conversationally.

  Nick’s girlfriend was a very successful, famous model named Sarah Spade.

  She was the hottest item on the market right now. Her popularity had nearly skyrocketed overnight when she did a few racy photos for a couple of nudie magazines. She was all bleached blonde hair and fake boobs. Sarah was as skinny as the poles she occasionally danced on. She’d earned the name Miss December by only posing for wintery photographs. She was the classic snow bunny…if snow bunnies went out in barely concealing, thong bikinis.

  “We split up,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts. “Two weeks ago.”

  His statement caught her off guard. Instead of grabbing a box to stick the necklace inside, Nixie ended up spilling half the boxes onto the floor. “Oh, dear.” Bending down, she began frantically picking up the boxes and tossing them haphazardly to the counter. “I’m sorry…to hear about you and Miss…Sarah.” She popped back up with an apologetic look.

  Nick shrugged. “I’m not.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence, and as an excuse to look away, Nixie grabbed the necklace and rang it up.

  “It’s for my sister,” Nick added as he pulled out his wallet. “It’s her birthday.”

  She gave a quick nod. “That’s nice.” She tried to look cool and calm, but her heart was beating frantically in her chest.

  Nicholas Morgan was back on the market and here he was standing in front of her like a delectable sex mirage. That thought brought a blush to her cheeks and made her drop the box with his necklace in it to the floor. “I am so sorry,” she stammered, sinking to her knees on the carpet.

  “I’m starting to think you’re not very coordinated.”

  Nixie replied with a tittering laugh. “Is it that obvious?” She popped up again, nearly hitting her head a second time.

  “Alarmingly so,” he said wryly, taking the bag she held out that contained his purchase.

  “Yeah…well…”

  “Well,” Nick repeated slowly, holding eye contact for a long moment.

  Nixie felt her heart constrict in her chest. He was so gorgeous…and those eyes…

  “Thank you,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

  She gave him a tight smile, unable to do anything else.

  On her silence, he returned the smile and walked away.

  Nixie noticed the receipt next to her hand just as he was reaching the door. “N…Mr. Morgan,” she cried. When he turned, she rushed across the room, the paper held in the air. “Your receipt,” she said breathlessly. “We wouldn’t want you to leave without that.”

  His eyes searched her face and Nixie knew she should say something, anything. By the time she thought she might have a coherent sentence ready, he took the receipt from her hand and said, “Thanks again.” Then he was gone.

  In disappointment, Nixie trudged back behind the counter.

  “Do you know who that was?” Joe gushed. “Do you?”

  “Nick Morgan,” she replied glumly.

  “This will be great for business,” Joe pressed on. “Nick Morgan shops here. Imagine the publicity!”

  “Mmmph,” she grumbled. As she rounded the counter, her toe kicked something underneath. She stooped down and felt around on the floor. Her hand closed over a small box.

  As soon as her eyes landed on it, she felt a sinking sensation in her gut. “Oh no,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

  But there it was when she creaked the box open, the necklace just purchased by Nicholas Morgan. “Just imagine the publicity,” she whimpered in apprehension.

  Twenty minutes later, Nixie was pacing the floor, the necklace shoved deep in her pocket. “What am I going to do?” She was just waiting for Nick to come storming through the door, demanding an apology––or worse, her arrest. She bit her lip at that thought. They wouldn’t really throw her in jail for an honest mistake, would they?

  She had to tell Joe. She shook her head frantically. She couldn’t tell Joe. Joe would fire her for sure. No. She had to deal with this herself. But how could she do that without anyone finding out? She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps…” Her heart leapt into her throat at the danger of the plan she was formulating. Was she really considering breaking into the man’s house to return a necklace? No way would it work.

  He was bound to have tight security and bodyguards. She would get caught for sure…but there was that charity dinner he was scheduled to attend this evening. She remembered hearing all about it. Surely he would take his bodyguards with him.

  It would be easy. Break in, place the necklace in the empty box she’d obviously given him, and get out. No problem, right? She let out a miserable groan, trying to swallow back a lump in her throat the size of Texas. It was impractical, stupid, and bound to land her in prison. Of all the dumb, disorganized ideas she ever had, this one might be the worst. So, why not? It was only one giant disaster waiting to happen.

  Chapter Two

  Nick was slouched in his sitting room, casting bored glances at the clock. It was only 12:30. That was far too early to go to bed on a Saturday night. He just didn’t know what to do.

  If he were in L.A., there would be a million hot spots he could swing by. Here, there was nothing. Nothing to distract him from the fact that he was alone. Though he had no one to blame but himself for that problem. He was the one to break things off with Sarah. He was the one to ask for some space when she huffily stated he would change his mind, and yet somehow, he was the lonely one.

  With a sigh, he put the book he’d been reading down on the table next to him. His real problem had nothing to do with boredom. His dilemma was that he simply couldn’t concentrate. Every time he got into something, a flash of big, black curls would enter his mind. His thoughts would wander to orange, chipped fingernail polish. Honestly, who wears orange on their nails? No one sane, apparently …

  That had to be what was bothering him: The orange polish. It was so fashionably unacceptable. That girl was a fashion crisis! With her broken shoe…

  “What was with the shoe?” he asked the empty room. How did something like that happen? How could someone so tiny be so destructive? It was baffling. Though he had felt bad for her, all crumpled on the floor like that. With her skirt riding up over her creamy thighs…

  Nick closed his eyes, savoring that mental picture. He should have gone back and gotten her number. Why not? He was single. He was lonely. He was attracted to her. He was…not alone in the house.<
br />
  Nick was positive he’d hear the distinct sound of footsteps. He sat absolutely still, listening for the slightest noise. A second later, the sound of something being dropped to the floor could be heard.

  Trying to keep his alarm to a minimum, Nick moved swiftly to the kitchen. He had a whole security system set up inside. He could view any room in the entire house. A nifty device when one has uninvited visitors.

  It didn’t take him long to track down the intruder. The burglar was in his bedroom. His bedroom. When he took a closer look, his eyes widened in disbelief. The little felon had long, black curls. When she spun around, he nearly gasped. It was her! The girl he’d been obsessing over all night.

  Turning in the direction of the hall, he marched up the steps, determined to confront the little vixen. His mind couldn’t decide whether he was extremely turned on or unbelievably pissed. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. He wasn’t sure how to blend those two reactions…or if he even could.

  He rounded the upstairs hallway and reached the bedroom doorway just in time to see her clasping the necklace he’d bought earlier around her neck.

  * * *

  Nixie was so close. She was in. All she had to do now was put the necklace in his box…and not knock anything else onto the floor. Over her shoulder, she gave Nick’s cell phone a dirty look. She’d tripped on the wire of the charger and sent it crashing to the ground. Dumb cord.

  She silently pondered over the fact that he didn’t have his phone with him. He was out for a night on the town. You would think he’d bring that. With a shrug, she turned back to the task at hand. She’d found the box in the bottom drawer of the nightstand next to the bed. She was now kneeling in front of it. All she needed was the necklace.

  She’d fastened it safely around her neck earlier. It was the most secure way to transport it. There were endless possibilities to lose it if she were to just carry it around in her hand. Wearing it seemed like the safest scenario.