Conquering the Goddess

by Lucy Eden

  Conquering the Goddess

  An Alpha Billionaire Romance

  Lucy Eden

  Copyright © 2018 by Lucy Eden

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/ or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

  This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

  No one is related in this book.

  Hello Dear Reader,

  Welcome to my second story in my goddess series, Conquering the Goddess.

  If you’re into love at first sight, steamy sex scenes, audacious yet innocent heroines, brooding alpha males & happy endings, you’ve come to right place.

  This is a standalone story so you don’t need to read any other stories in the series to enjoy this one, but I highly recommend that you do.

  Be sure to visit me online & let me know what you think:

  lucyeden.com

  instagram.com/lucyedenauthor

  twitter.com/lucyedenauthor

  lucyedenauthor@gmail.com

  All my best,

  Lucy xx

  Conquering the Goddess

  Athena Anderson is young ambitious journalist fresh out of grad school & excited about her first assignment for Capital Exchange Magazine.

  Grant Winters rules his corporate domain with an iron fist and has no time for distractions, like reporters from dried up media.

  Their first meeting doesn’t go quite according to plan.

  When they meet again sparks fly and maybe, a punch or two and Grant & Athena realize they have a lot more in common then they originally thought.

  Get wrapped up in this sugary sweet, hot and steamy, over the top, roller coaster ride of fate, true love & second chances.

  This standalone novella has an obsessed alpha, love at first sight, safe, no cheating with a guaranteed happily ever after.

  Contents

  1. Athena

  2. Grant

  3. Athena

  4. Grant

  5. Athena

  6. Grant

  7. Athena

  8. Grant

  9. Athena

  Also by Lucy Eden

  Tessa

  Charles

  Gaia

  Trevor

  About the Author

  Athena

  My very first assignment and I was running late. It was my first real job out of grad school, and I'd worked my ass off to get here.

  One would think that after graduating at the top of my class in undergrad and earning a master's degree by the age of twenty-three, I'd have my pick of job offers. There were only three: content editor for a mommy blog, beat reporter for a celebrity gossip rag and the one I chose, junior features writer for Capital Exchange magazine, a decades-old finance magazine looking to revamp its image and stay relevant by hiring young journalists. It was quite obvious that I was a token hire, and much wasn't expected of me, but I was determined to work hard and prove them wrong.

  Choosing Capital Exchange wasn't about the money. Frankly, the mommy blog offered me more, but if I wanted to be taken seriously, so home facials and the top ten strollers for twins wasn't the place to start my career.

  I finally reached The Strathmore at precisely ten am, but I still needed time to get to the offices on the 42nd floor which meant I was late. I cursed myself as I dug my driver's license and press credentials out of my messenger bag to show the security detail before being directed to the elevator bank which contained a least a dozen elevators. My head started to swim.

  "Type your floor number on the keypad, and an elevator will open!" called the security guard from the desk. He must have seen my frustration and took pity. I found the keypad, typed in the number forty-two, heard a ding and saw the third elevator on the left open with my intended floor number flashing overhead. I rushed inside, had barely stepped in when the doors slammed shut and zoomed upward. It came to an abrupt stop, and the doors slid open.

  I rushed through the open elevator, through the glass doors reading Winters International Corporation and stopped at a large half-moon shaped desk where a half of a dozen receptionists sat busily fielding calls and typing into keyboards.

  "Hi!" I called, a little more frantically than I hoped. One of them looked up. "I'm…"

  “Athena Anderson.” A stern looking woman in her late fifties called to me. She must have been standing by the desk the entire time, but I hadn’t noticed. “Mr. Winters is expecting you. You’re late.” I glanced at my watch. It read 10:04 am.

  "I know, I'm sorry I just…" the rest of the sentence got lost as I stopped myself. My father was an Army lieutenant general and never had an ounce of tolerance for lateness. There were no excuses, you were either on time, or you weren't. Today, I wasn't.

  She led me down a corridor of glass-walled offices full of people in business attire at desks clicking away at computers or pacing back and forth screaming into earpieces.

  At the end was a pair of large wooden doors. She pushed them open to reveal a massive office. The far wall was floor to ceiling windows. At 45 stories the Strathmore was the tallest building for miles, so the view from the 42nd floor felt like standing in a cloud.

  Grant Winters stood framed in the celestial view of his office window, looking like one of the gods from the myths my father used to tell me at bedtime. He was a tall, imposing figure that looked chiseled from marble. Leaning forward, he was supporting the weight of his massive upper body on his knuckles atop an enormous black mahogany desk. I heard the disembodied buzzing of a voice coming from the telephone on its surface where he focused his attention.

  He briefly glanced at us with a mild look of annoyance, before motioning us inside with two fingers.

  "He'll see you now," the woman said, almost pleasantly as she guided me into the office. I felt a tremor of fear and excitement as I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and stepped forward.

  “Good luck…” she called in a sing-song voice before closing the doors behind her.

  Grant

  Because I obviously didn’t have enough shit to do in one day, my PR rep set up with an interview for a bullshit puff piece with Capital Exchange Magazine. It was a decades-old dried up rag, which people kept on their coffee tables to make them seem intelligent but nobody read anymore.

  My team had been working on a multibillion-dollar deal, and the other parties involved were concerned about my private persona or a lack thereof. I didn't spend a lot of time in the public eye. I didn't party every night, fuck models and snort piles of cocaine. I didn't publicize my charitable donations, write "get rich quick" books, or judge a reality tv show. I worked like a fucking dog and expected my professional accomplishments reflect my competence as a business leader, but that's not how it works in today's world.

  So after declining interviews for over a decade, I sold a piece of my soul to Capital Exchange Magazine for public visibility and discounted ad space for our commercial real estate sector.

  I had almost completely forgotten about it when Gwen, my executive secretary opened my o
ffice doors accompanied by what could not have been a reporter for the magazine my buddies, and I used to swat flies in business school.

  The mystery girl was a tall, statuesque beauty with the palest skin I’d ever seen. It looked like porcelain. She wore tight black jeans, and a matching t-shirt with a v neck that displayed a hint of the curves of her small, perfect breasts. Her fiery red hair was pulled into the messy bun you see on women at the gym, and I couldn’t make this up, there was a pen sticking out of it. The glasses she wore did nothing to hide the large emerald green eyes that glittered like jewels or smattering of freckles scattered across her cheek. I wanted to kiss every single one. This girl was young, she couldn’t be older than twenty-five, but her face displayed a hidden fierceness that made me curious. She also wore dog tags around her neck. They were tucked into her shirt, but there was no mistaking the steel ball chain and two rectangles outlined below her chest under her tee. She finished the look with black combat boots.

  I felt myself getting rock hard at the thought of taking this woman, and I was simultaneously pissed that the magazine hadn't bothered to send a real reporter. After all the begging, bargaining and scheduling, they sent a cub reporter, barely out of school who couldn’t even bother to be on time.

  I almost sent her away. I was on the phone with one of my lawyers hammering out the details of this never-ending headache. It was a bad time. It was always a bad time these days, but I figured I needed to get the damn thing over with so I could focus on important things and I wanted to spend more time with this reporter, a lot more time if I had my way.

  Athena

  I walked closer to Grant Winters’ desk, feeling his eyes on me. I felt like I had to say something.

  "Hello, Mr. Winters'. I'm Athena Anderson from the…" He angrily put a finger to his lips to shush me, pointed at the phone and motioned for me to sit in one of the huge leather chairs adjacent to his desk. I felt a flush of anger and embarrassment at being silenced like a child and put in a time-out. I tried to steel myself and remain calm, but I could feel my anger rising. I turned to move towards the chair I'd been sent to, and I'd stumbled over the strap of my messenger bag which I had dropped on the floor at some point. I managed to keep my footing and quickly sat. My face was burning, and I'm sure it matched my hair. I glanced at Mr. Winters to see if he noticed. He was focused intently on the still buzzing speakerphone on his desk, but he had the ghost of a smile on his face. He'd seen, and he was enjoying the show.

  After a few minutes, he sat down and turned his face to me and waved his hand in a gesture of impatience. I guessed it was my signal to speak.

  "As I said, my name is Athena Ander…"

  "Fuck that, Tim! The deadline was Tuesday. Tell the Tokyo office to get their shit together or I'm chopping heads!" he shouted into the phone before glancing at me again and repeating his rude gesture. When he was met with silence, he turned his full attention on me for the first time since I'd entered his office. "Don't you have some questions to ask?" he whispered through clenched teeth.

  “You’re busy. I’ll wait until I have your full attention.” I said cooly and crossed my arms hoping to mask the thinly veiled rage I felt successfully. He cocked his head to the side and looked at me as though he’d just seen me for the first time.

  “This call is extremely important.” He said this a slow drawn out growl through still clenched teeth that both excited me and fueled my ire.

  “This interview is important to me. When you finish your call, we’ll do the interview.” Now, there was a definite tone of defiance in my voice, but I didn’t care. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Did he think he had the only important job? Did the world revolve around Grant Winters?

  I thought I had his full attention before but now Mr. Winters was positively studying me. He was surveying me like I was some strange mythical creature and he wasn't sure what to make of me. He steepled his fingers, touched them to his lips and closed his eyes for a second, seeming to be in deep thought.

  “Tim, I’m gonna call you back.” I could hear the disembodied buzzing of Tim’s voice expressing his displeasure at being dismissed before abruptly being cut off with a touch of a button. “Now,” he continued, “You have my full attention, Miss… What did you say your name was again?”

  “Athena. Athena Anderson.” I stammered, trying to sound more confident than I felt. This man was arrogant, brash, rude, but he was also the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

  “Athena?” he laughed. “Where did you get a name like that?”

  "She's the goddess of war. My father named me after her because he was…"

  “Zeus?” he laughed again. I felt the anger that was simmering, starting to boil.

  “No,” I seethed. “He was a Lieutenant General in the US Army.” This silenced him.

  “Please, thank him for his service on my behalf.” This almost sounded sincere, if he wasn’t still smiling.

  "I can't because he's dead." I knew I was utterly blowing this interview, but I couldn't stop myself.

  "Is this the way you always treat interview subjects? Because if it is, you might want to consider a new line of work." He was laughing.

  "Is this the way you treat people you feel are beneath you, whom I suspect is everyone? Because if it is, you might try being less of a condescending ass." His laughter died away for a moment, and his eyes were wide with shock, then the laughter returned. It was a deep belly laugh, revealing a sparkling smile and made his blue-gray eyes twinkle.

  "Screw you. I'm out of here. The interview’s off.” I leaped to my feet and spun on my heels, hoping desperately to make a smooth exit without tripping, crying or doing anything else to embarrass myself.

  “Wait, Miss Anderson. I haven’t dismissed you yet.” Dismissed me? Was he kidding? I was almost to the door when I turned to answer him and saw that he was right in front of me.

  He advanced on me slowly, and I took a few steps back before I felt the door behind me, leaving me trapped. I was tall, but Grant Winters towered over me. He scent was intoxicating. I could feel my entire body tingle with anticipation as used his giant arms to prop himself up against the door behind me, leaning in close. I could have kissed him or killed him, and either one would have felt amazing.

  "I…" I stammered, "I think you been dismissive enough. Now if you'll excuse me…" but I didn't move. I didn't want to, and we both knew it.

  “I’m not used to being spoken to like that, Miss Anderson.” He whispered in my ear in a deep rumbling voice that made my nether regions tingle. “I might have to punish you, with your permission, of course.”

  At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to experience first hand what a punishment from Grant Winters would be, but this had gone too far. I had already lost this job based on how well my first ever assignment had gone and losing my virginity to someone I both desired and detested, not to mention, barely knew would be compounding an already bad situation. His gaze met mine with an intense smoldering look. I felt like I was being hypnotized. It was if the air had been sucked out of the room and we were the only things that ever existed.

  "I'm…" a whisper barely escaped my lips. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm leaving." I tried to say something witty and biting, but that was all I could muster. He immediately stepped back, held the door open for me and I scurried through it. I power walked down the hall to the reception area, feeling his eyes on me the whole way.

  Two hours ago, I had my life all planned out. Now, nothing made sense.

  Grant

  I couldn't stop thinking about Athena Anderson all week. I watched her perfect ass disappear down the corridor as she made her exit. No one dared talk to me the way she did. I wanted to grab her, toss her over my knee and spank her until she begged for mercy. There was something else about her that intrigued me. Most of the women, hell, the people, I've met bend to my will. I've gotten what I wanted when I wanted it, and women have never been the exception until now. Little miss goddess of war was toug
h as nails, alright, but she was vulnerable. I wanted to know everything about her and I wanted to have her.

  I told Gwen to clear my afternoon, and I set about researching my new acquisition. I approached it the same way I approached a corporation ripe for the plucking. Tim could handle Tokyo, that's why I paid him so well. I summoned one of my firm's investigators and requested a full report. An hour later a file appeared on my desk.

  Athena Anderson

  23 years old,

  BA in English from Harvard, summa cum laude;

  Masters degree in Journalism from Columbia.

  Mother: Debra Anderson, deceased, Breast Cancer

  Father: Lt. Gen. John Anderson, deceased, Congestive Heart Failure

  I studied the rest of the file for a few minutes before I made my decision. I pressed the button my intercom.

  “Gwen, get me the Editor in Chief of Capital Exchange.”

  That was Monday. Five days had passed since I was so close to my little goddess that I could inhale her intoxicating scent and witness first hand the sexy pout she wore when she got angry.

  "Sir, your car will arrive in 45 minutes." Gwen poked her head into the office. "I'm headed to the venue now to go over some last minute details. Is there anything else I can do before I go?” I wasn’t going to get any work done at the office that didn’t involve staring at the door where I was inches away from Athena’s ruby lips. But something the little goddess said gave me pause.