The Billionaire Renegade

by Catherine Mann

  All this cowboy wants is a temporary affair.

  He’s playing with fire.

  Billionaire rancher Conrad Steele wants Felicity Hunt in his bed—no strings attached. He’s been left at the altar before and won’t make the same mistake twice. But the savvy divorcée keeps her body and heart on lockdown, even when planning her hospital’s charity event means spending long, intimate hours with the tempting tycoon. Until a night of passion changes everything...

  Felicity couldn’t pull her gaze away from the allure of Conrad’s clear blue eyes.

  He passed her the black foil box of candy, gold bow glinting in the bright hall light. Their fingers brushed, and the air crackled with awareness.

  She skimmed a finger along the intricate bow without taking the box. “I’m not sure what to make of this.”

  “Romance,” he said, his voice husky. “Will you accept the gift?”

  She laughed, clutching the box to her chest. “Try to pry it out of my hands.”

  He grinned back at her. “Tally told me you had a weakness for chocolate.”

  Felicity placed the candy on the half-moon table next to a succulent plant. “It’s no fair how you keep getting the inside scoop. What’s your weakness?”

  His eyes flamed. “You.”

  Her breath hitched in her chest as his head dipped. His mouth slanted over hers, warm, firm. Tingles spread through her at the first touch. She clenched her fingers in his jacket, anchoring herself in the wash of sensation, the fine fabric of his lapels and the sweep of his tongue over hers.

  The deeper she sank into the kiss, the more he brought her body alive again, the more she realized she was right in thinking this connection couldn’t be ignored.

  * * *

  The Billionaire Renegade is part of the Alaskan Oil Barons series from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann!

  Dear Reader,

  I’m a longtime fan of a hero in a Stetson or on a horse! Writing The Billionaire Renegade provided me with the perfect opportunity to put a fun new spin on the theme. Alaskan cowboy Conrad Steele shows up in his Stetson and on his horse at the most unexpected times and unexpected places to romance wary hospital social worker Felicity Hunt!

  Thank you for checking out my latest Alaskan Oil Barons novel. Each one can be read as a stand-alone story, but there are also plenty more for you to enjoy if you like connected books. Details on each of the eight stories can be found on my website, catherinemann.com, along with info about monthly contests and newsletters.

  Happy reading!

  Cathy

  Catherine Mann

  The Billionaire Renegade

  To Barbara Collins Rosenberg—an amazing agent and a dear friend.

  USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, catherinemann.com.

  Books by Catherine Mann

  Harlequin Desire

  Alaskan Oil Barons

  The Baby Claim

  The Double Deal

  The Love Child

  The Twin Birthright

  The Second Chance

  The Rancher’s Seduction

  The Billionaire Renegade

  Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or catherinemann.com, for more titles.

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  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Excerpt from Inconveniently Wed by Yvonne Lindsay

  One

  He was back.

  Felicity Hunt didn’t need to see more than the buff-colored Stetson resting on his knee to know Conrad Steele hadn’t heeded her request that they stop seeing each other. The man threatened the balance she’d worked so hard to create in regaining her professional life after her divorce.

  But the Alaskan oil magnate had a reputation for determination. The smooth-talking kind that persisted until he won.

  Well, he wouldn’t win her.

  Although he was sure pulling out all the stops to gain her attention today in the hospital’s enclosed memory garden.

  Conrad was currently leading story time, pint-size patients gathered around him in a heart-tugging cluster.

  On her way back from supervising a critically ill three-year-old who’d just entered the foster system, Felicity steeled her resolve to keep this man at arm’s length. Easier said than done. As a social worker at Anchorage General Hospital, she had a soft spot for her young clients.

  Children sat in wheelchairs and on floor mats, wide-eyed with rapt attention focused on the cowboy spinning a tale about a magical horse. His deep voice rumbled over the words, the book all but dwarfed by his large hands. He kept it open for his audience to see, the current page containing a watercolor image of the horse with a blanket and saddle over its back.

  A little girl raised her hand with a question. “What’s hanging off the saddle?”

  “Those are stirrups, for the rider’s feet,” Conrad answered, tapping his boots on the floor. He then expanded the explanation with ease, his knowledge of all things equine shining through.

  His gaze rose from the children, colliding with Felicity’s as she leaned against a pillar. The air crackled between them with a connection she should have been used to by now, but the potency still caught her unaware. Just a look not more than three heartbeats long left her shaken long after he returned his attention to the book.

  God, he was handsome in a rugged, movie star way with a strong jaw and cheekbones. His dark hair was trimmed neatly, hints of silver at his temples tempting her fingers to stroke. And those eyes, pale blue like the hottest of flames.

  He had broad shoulders that filled out his crisp white shirt just so, his suit coat draped over the back of the rolling chair. His red silk tie drew her attention to the strong column of his neck.

  This was a man others leaned on.

  She forced even breaths in and out, willing her heart rate to slow. The scent of plants and flowers mingled with the antiseptic smell of the highly sterilized space.

  Fidgeting with the badge on her silver lanyard, Felicity knew she should walk right out of the memory garden, and she would, before he finished the story.

  Meanwhile, she couldn’t stop thoughts of how she’d met Conrad, of how he’d pursued her with such flattering intensity. Her work as a county social worker had brought her to this hospital often, and his nephew had been dating a friend of Felicity’s who volunteered in the NICU. Felicity had finally caved and dated Conrad briefly, against her better judgment, but she’d broken things off just before Christmas and taking on a new job.

  It was a dream come true being hired on as a hospital social worker for underage patients. The recent change offered all the more reason she needed to stay focused on her career, and not on romance. Her broken marriage had left her full of crushing heartbreak. The grief had taken its toll on her at the offic
e, crippling her concentration. She’d labored long and hard to rebuild her résumé. She refused to endure another setback in her professional—or personal—life.

  After Conrad closed the last page of the book, he turned over story time to a volunteer with puppets. Felicity let go of her lanyard, her fingers numb. She’d gripped it so hard the ridges bit into her skin.

  She’d waited too long, lost in thoughts of this man. If she moved quickly, she could still make an escape...

  But wouldn’t that delay the inevitable?

  She couldn’t just walk away today without confronting Conrad about his refusal to give her space. Her heart sped.

  Conrad slid on his suit jacket, then scooped up his Stetson and overcoat. He wove his way through the audience, past geraniums spilling over the side of terra-cotta planters, massive urns with trees and a babbling stone fountain. While the puppeteer set up her portable stage, children stretched and wriggled, mats rustling and IV poles clinking. Conrad paused, leaning to answer a question from a young girl with a bandanna covering her bald head, then continued his journey across the indoor garden.

  And his eyes were locked on Felicity.

  Felicity exhaled hard, her heart double-timing against her will. He didn’t miss a beat in his beeline to her, his long legs eating up the space between them, boots thudding on the tile floor.

  “Hello,” he said simply, his head dipping low enough his breath caressed her cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

  She bit her lip and struggled to keep her gaze off his mouth and on his eyes, memories of their brief time together bombarding her. “We should step out. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the performance.”

  Taped flute music started as the puppeteer slid into place behind the stage. The children stilled for the rest of the entertainment.

  Conrad opened the door leading out of the memory garden and into the busy hallway, winter coat draped over his arm. Staff in scrubs mixed with visitors in street clothes, and the flow of human traffic streamed both ways, the opposing currents somehow weaving around each other fluidly. The wide corridor sported a wall of windows showcasing a snowplow making its way through the lot beside a towering parking garage.

  Conrad clasped her elbow and guided her to a nook lined with vending machines. The simple touch set her body on fire. His equally hot gaze made her feel like a siren in spite of her businesslike pin-striped skirt and ruffled white blouse.

  He planted a hand on the wall, his shoulders blocking out the corridor, making a public space suddenly intimate. “Congratulations on your new job.”

  So he did know, probably from her friend Tally Benson, who was dating Marshall Steele—Conrad’s nephew. Felicity had the confirmation. His time here wasn’t coincidental. He was looking for her.

  Frustration—and an unwanted tingle of pleasure—filled her. “Tally told you?”

  “Marshall did,” Conrad acknowledged. “I didn’t know you were looking to make a change at work.”

  She struggled to focus on his words, difficult to do with the spicy scent of him filling her every breath.

  “I wasn’t unhappy at my other position, but this is a dream job of mine.” All the more reason she needed to keep her focus narrowed.

  “They’re lucky to have you.” His hand was close enough to stroke her hair, but he didn’t move.

  The phantom touch, the promise, was just as potent.

  Enough polite chitchat. “Why are you here? I’m not buying this sudden interest of yours for story time with sick children.”

  “You didn’t want our date from the bachelor auction last month, so I’m fulfilling the time purchased here.”

  She’d been irate when he’d paid the money in her name for his time at the charity bachelor auction. She didn’t like being manipulated. Another reason she was irritated to see him here today, despite the way his nearness made her temperature spike.

  Still, she couldn’t deny he was doing a good thing for the patients, many of them here long term in the pediatric oncology ward. “That’s very altruistic of you. What made you think of reading books instead of something like volunteering in the gift shop?”

  “I like kids, even though I don’t have any of my own. I’ve always been a proud and involved uncle. And my family’s charity foundation is initiating a number of projects here at Anchorage General.”

  Could that be true and she just hadn’t heard about it yet? Or was he making another excuse to pursue her because she’d had the nerve to say no to a Steele?

  “What kinds of projects?”

  “We’re starting with a program donating books to patients.” He answered without hesitation.

  She believed him. About that much at least. “That’s a wonderful thing to do, but I need to make sure you know, my interest is not for sale.”

  His easy smile faded. “Neither is my honor. My family has always supported this hospital out of gratitude for their top-notch care. My nieces and nephews were born here. My niece Naomi underwent cancer treatment here—and then went on to deliver her twins here. The book donation is a part of the new pilot program.”

  “New pilot program?” she couldn’t resist asking, the professional in her intrigued. So much for playing it as cool and formidable as the Alaskan tundra.

  “The Steele and Mikkelson families’ new charity foundation is looking for more ways to make a difference at the hospital. One of those ways is to provide children with new books, volumes they can keep so there’s no risk of germ cross-contamination with shared materials.”

  How could she find fault with that plan? She couldn’t. “That’s really thoughtful. I’m sure the children and parents will be very grateful.”

  Finances could become strained with long-term hospitalizations, so much so that even buying books was a luxury.

  “Today’s package for each child included a copy of the story they just heard.” A half smile tugged on his mouth, those signature Steele eyes full of promise.

  It had been a riveting tale, no question, especially when read by a larger-than-life cowboy. “You said ways—plural—of helping here. What else is the foundation doing?”

  She was curious, yes. But she also needed to know where to avoid him so she didn’t keep testing her resolve where he was concerned.

  “The vote was taken yesterday, so technically, it’s okay for me to share now even though the press release won’t go out until tomorrow.” His smile widened and her stringent resolve waned.

  “Okay, I’ll admit it. You’ve got my interest—on a professional basis only.”

  His brows shot up almost imperceptibly. “Of course.” His smile was confident—and sexy. “We’re making a donation to the oncology ward in honor of my niece. They’ll be renaming it, to be made official at a dinner for the hospital board of directors and the charity foundation board.”

  His words sunk in. This wasn’t a simple book drop-off or some quickly concocted plan to bump into her in passing. He and his family’s charitable foundation had a genuine, vested interest in being a part of this hospital’s financial landscape.

  Realization filled her with the inescapable truth—and she couldn’t deny a shiver of excitement. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  * * *

  Stetson in hand, Conrad watched Felicity walk away in a huff down the hospital corridor.

  He was definitely getting under her skin, and that was a good thing. Damn straight, he wasn’t going anywhere. He had wanted her since the first time he’d seen her. He’d worked to win her over since then, not an easy task as she was still stinging from her divorce. But then, he wasn’t one to shy away from a battle.

  Letting his gaze linger on her, he stepped away from the vending machines and back into the flow of foot traffic in the wide corridor, winter coat over his arm. Felicity’s sleek brown hair was pulled back into a neat French twist, midday sunlight through the wind
ow reflecting off honey-colored streaks.

  Her pin-striped skirt was both professional yet also appealing in an understated way as it hugged her curves, sweeping down to touch the top of her knee-length leather boots. The ruffles on her blouse drew his eyes to her neck and wrists. Not that it took much to bring his attention to her.

  He was selective, dating professional women who weren’t interested in a walk down the aisle. He’d had a brief marriage and a near miss, having been left at the altar by his fiancée. His attempts at happily-ever-after had left him gun-shy.

  Then when his older brother had lost his wife and child in a plane crash, seeing his brother’s unrelenting grief had cemented Conrad’s resolution to stay single. He’d devoted himself to helping bring up his nieces and nephews. He loved kids. It hadn’t been a hardship to lend a hand to his overburdened big brother, Jack. Conrad was fifteen years younger and had energy and time to spare. He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the fact that his brother’s kids were grown now attributed to some restlessness on Conrad’s part.

  His gaze zoned back in on Felicity as she stepped into an elevator. She certainly had his attention and he imagined she would have at any time in his life. He’d hoped things would go a little more smoothly today, but he also enjoyed a good challenge.

  He started toward the elevators just as the double set of electric doors opened, a blast of cold air gusting inside. A familiar face stopped him short. Marshall. His nephew. The middle child in Jack Steele’s brood, Marshall was a bit of a recluse, preferring to oversee the original homestead ranch. He’d never voiced an interest in the day-to-day operations of the family’s oil business.

  They’d all had to step up, though, when Jack Steele had become engaged to the widowed matriarch of their corporate rival, the Mikkelson family. Shortly after that, Jack had suffered a fall from a horse that could have killed him, but didn’t. Still, it had left him with a recovery from spinal surgery that had lasted months.

 
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