by Ellie Danes
Crossed Hearts
The Forbidden Love Series
The Complete Series Volumes 1-3
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
By
Ellie Danes
www.EllieDanes.com
Copyright
First Edition, March 2016
Copyright © 2016 by Ellie Danes
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
License
This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.
Cross Hearts
The Forbidden Love Series
Volume One
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
By
Ellie Danes
www.EllieDanes.com
Chapter 1
Ian
New York City was the coldest fucking place I could imagine. I’d always loved the city, but I’d loved it as the kind of guy who hadn’t needed to leave for work every morning. I’d loved it as the kind of guy who could lie in bed, curled up next to the warm body of my latest sexual conquest.
Now, as I navigated the rush hour traffic, I hated it. I hated how flurries of snow and dirty sleet stuck to my heels. I hated how, even when the valet warmed up my Bentley and had it ready to go, the seat was still cold when I sat in it.
None of this would have been a problem before my dad died a little over a year ago. But now I’d taken over his car, taken over his penthouse, and taken over his position as CEO of a medical technology company.
I shifted in my leather seat and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but all I smelled was my father’s cologne. Everywhere I turned, every breath I took, everything I did reminded me of him, because now, everything in my life used to be his. He’d been stolen from me a year ago, and his death had caused me to question everything in this world.
At least I could depend on one thing: coffee. The Starbucks closest to Dad’s place—now my place—had become my new morning tradition.
After I had found a parking spot, I eased out of my car, wincing at the cold. It was hard to move, and I couldn’t blame all of that on the freezing temperature. My hours in the office translated to fewer hours in the gym, and even though my body wasn’t showing it yet, I was feeling it. My face, too, looked different to me. Fuller. Defeated.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the car’s window. I stopped and looked at myself for a moment and shifted strands of my sandy-colored hair aside.
Then I tightened my tie and buttoned my coat.
I couldn’t believe how much I was actually starting to look like my dad. I sighed. If only I could run the company half as well as he had, then it’d all be easy sailing...
“Shit,” I breathed, pulling my gaze away from the car window, my teeth chattering. “It’s cold out here.”
I picked up my pace and crossed the street, not even bothering with crosswalks as I headed toward the coffee shop’s front door. My stride was determined, and so was I. Because I really needed that fucking caffeine.
A warm blast of coffee-scented air wafted over me as I stepped inside, but as soon as I took in the scene before me, my eyes narrowed into slits. If I could have shot lasers from my eyes, I probably would have. The line was ridiculous — in fact, it ended only a couple of inches away from where I stood, freezing my ass off with every new customer entering the doorway.
I sighed.
Sometimes the city had perks, and sometimes it definitely didn’t.
The dreadlocked woman in front of me took a couple of steps forward, and I took a couple steps forward. Sheep. Caffeine-crazy sheep, all of us. I could only hope that the morning rush would die away soon. I looked at the fast-working baristas, running around like crazed pinballs behind the counter. The morning rushes with caffeine-starved, work-destined people were probably a nightmare, and I sympathized with the baristas. I could only sympathize so much, though, because I was on a time-crunch, and I wanted that coffee twenty minutes ago.
It was crazy, really, if I thought about it. There was a Starbucks on every corner in the city, but it didn’t change the fact that I still had to wait in line every damn time I came in.
I probably could have had some intern run and fetch me coffee, but it wasn’t my style. This was how I was raised. Besides, a part of me enjoyed the laid back atmosphere, after I actually got my damn coffee.
My hand started fidgeting almost like I was a drug addict. My addiction was like my newfound love for caffeine, and Starbucks was my very own crack-cocaine. Not that I should have been surprised. Coffee was the only thing that seemed to get me through the day — and I’d consumed gallons of it over the last year.
I glanced at my watch and cringed. I’d never carried a watch before. I hadn’t really needed one. Honestly, I hated how much I needed one now. Sometimes I hated how dramatically my life had changed in recent months. I was only thirty-four years old, and I felt damn near eighty.
I was thrust into a position that I hadn’t been ready for, and one I’d never completely wanted. Being CEO wasn’t at all what the movies made it out to be. It wasn’t all money, women, and playtime. I knew money, women, and playtime — well, at least I used to —and this definitely wasn't that. This was actual work.
Actual hard work. I had some really large shoes to fill.
My father was Dr. John Cross. He had founded the company. I couldn’t believe that it was mine now. His gift he bestowed on me. A shitload of money and twice as much responsibility.
Medical Technology Specialists Incorporated, or MTS Inc. for short, was built by my dad from the ground up. He’d started with a small loan and an idea, and now it was a multi-billion-dollar company. My multi-billion-dollar company. The thought made me shudder.
We specialized in developing medical technology for hospitals and health care centers. It was what you could call a lucrative business, and it was one I grew up around. I knew it backward and forward, all because he had known it backward and forward. I was thankful that he’d put so much work into it, and I was even more thankful that he’d taught me the ropes. But after his untimely death, I’d had to take over. Even though I was grateful for everything he left me, I was still overworked and over-stressed.
He was always there — in the back of my head — judging me, constantly trying to whip me into shape. I couldn’t let him down, not after how hard he’d worked. The company was his legacy and so was I. It was only natural that I would run it and do everything in my power to make sure I lived up to his good name.
The thing that bothered me the most, though — the thing that had been tearing at me more than anything, and the one thing I wasn’t particularly very thankful for — was the fact that he had left us all in the midst of a terrible lawsuit against another biomedical research firm, BioResearch Labs. Their name had become a shitty taste in my mouth for the past year.
It had seriously been a day in and day out of constant battling with them. All over a patent—a piece of technology that they blatantly stole right out from under us.
It had all begun about six months before my dad’s death, and it still hadn’t wrapped up. In fact, it’d be safe to say it was the opposite of wrapped up. Things had started to get ugly. Really ugly.
I breathed out, partially because just thinking about BioResearch Labs and the lawsuit pissed me off, and partially because I was still waiting in the long ass line that hadn’t seemed to shorten at all.
The dreadlocked woman in front of me took another step forward, and so did I. One ste
p at a time. Eventually I’d get my caffeine.
Chapter 2
Kate
“Fine. Whatever you want!” I slammed the door and made my way toward the elevator. I needed space. He was the last person I wanted to talk to. And he sure as hell was the last person I wanted to keep looking at. Judgmental eyes, scowl lines on his forehead, and a pitiless frown. Dear old Dad.
I was glad for the quick exit. With a father like mine, a quick exit was a necessity. Especially when you were twenty-seven and living with a man who still treated you like a child. He was a pain in the ass, to put it simply. And sometimes, he was so much to deal with that I just had to get away.
But the more time that seemed to pass, the harder it was to deal—to deal with him, to deal with his burdening questions and his sarcastic remarks. He could be so condescending that it made me want to breathe fire right into his smug face.
And it was all because I chose to pursue my dreams rather than follow along behind him like some scared little puppy.
I was sorry. I told him that I was. But I didn’t want the family business.
Sure, I felt bad about it. For a while, at least. But this was my path and my life, and mine alone.
Despite the fact he was an obnoxious, overbearing old man, I hated to break his heart, and I hated, even more, to fight with him. I only wished he could give me the same courtesy.
And while I was wishing for things, I wished I wanted the same things for my life that he wanted for my life. It sure as hell would have been a lot easier.
I wanted to just jump on a plane and go. I wanted to run away from him and toward my dream. This was especially tempting, considering I already had a teaching job lined up for the fall in San Diego.
I sighed. I hated to think about going before it was actually time, because I loved my family and I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But if my apartment had been ready, I would probably be on my way to San Diego right now.
As I made my way through the front door, the nip from the cold New York City air seemed to burn my flesh. My breath caught in my throat, and I was instantly reminded of another reason why I really, really couldn’t wait to get to San Diego.
It was way too damn cold in New York.
I walked to the curb and raised my hand as soon as I saw a nearby cab, unoccupied. I smiled. In New York, that was almost impossible to find— especially when it was freezing outside. Which — to me — seemed like all the freaking time.
As the cab pulled up, I immediately reached for the door, not even wanting to take the chance that someone would snatch my ride. I mean, damn, the few seconds that I had spent outside in the cold were already too much for me. I didn’t want to screw around outside any longer than I had to, and there was no way in hell I’d be going back up to the apartment anytime soon. So I grabbed the handle of the car. With one swift motion, I pulled it open and leaped into the warmth of the back seat.
“Where we headin’?” the cabbie asked as I got comfortable. He cocked his head sideways just over his shoulder so he could glance back at me. He smiled, but it was far from a kind one. I could tell that he was actually annoyed that I hadn’t already told him.
“Uh…” That was a good question, actually. Truth was, I really didn’t know where I was going. I had nothing to do. It was a completely new idea for me, really, not having a place to go on a weekday morning.
I had just graduated with a Master’s degree in Education, and I considered myself lucky to secure a job so quickly afterward, but at the same time, I felt strange being a grown woman with no place to go. No job, no hobby. In fact, I felt pretty bad about it. I didn’t feel as independent as I should feel. I was twenty-seven years old, living with my dad and sister.
Shit, I thought. I still hadn’t told the cab driver where we were going. He stared at me, blankly. I muttered, a bit embarrassed, “Closet place that has coffee.” It was a roll of the die where I’d end up.
He rolled his eyes and grumbled deep in his throat. I could tell that he was irritated, but I was too wrapped up in my family drama to care much about his annoyance.
He pulled to a stop outside of Starbucks. I dug into my purse and fumbled for my wallet. My bag was a jumble of notebooks and colored pens and half-empty packs of mints, and it was a damn good thing my wallet was so big or I’d never find it in the mess. I gripped it firmly and yanked it out before throwing an apologetic look to the cabbie. He probably wanted to get on the road.
I pulled a wad of cash out quickly and handed him the money.
“Have a good one,” the man grumbled, before turning back around with my cash.
“You too.” I sighed as I glanced back to look out my window. The city was cold and gloomy. Like my current life.
I took one final deep breath as I flung the door of the cab open, bracing myself for the cold. And as soon as I pulled myself from the vehicle, I instantly regretted getting out. The freezing air stabbed at my lungs, causing me to wince in pain.
“I hate how fucking cold it is!” I growled, slamming the cab door shut.
I tightened my coat around my body. Then I laughed as I glanced around at crowds of people shuffling across sidewalks and crosswalks. I’d think that with all the people that crammed in the city like sardines, that there would be enough body heat to keep the entire damn city warm. But of course not. Most of them didn’t even seem fazed by the bone-chilling temperatures.
It made me wonder what, exactly, were the perks of living in the city, anyway?
A Starbucks on every corner?
I scoffed. A whole lot of good having so many Starbucks did! Because as soon as I crossed the street and made my way through the crowds of people scurrying across the sidewalk, I could tell that the Starbucks line was damn near out the door. Morning rush was still morning rush.
As soon as I opened the door to the shop and walked a whopping total of one step, I found myself at the end of that incredibly long line. I should have known better than to try my luck at a coffee shop in the morning.
But it was fine. In fact, it was perfectly fine with me. Because the more time I spent in line, the more time I spent away from my dad. I needed the time away. We both did.
I needed the time to take a step back and compose myself, to gather my thoughts as well as my feelings and just keep them in check. I still needed to get through a few more months with him.
Maybe some time to myself, standing in a really long line, was the perfect reprieve. Well, at least I was inside.
My head fell to look at the floor, just before a gentle smell of vanilla and spice trailed directly into my senses. Immediately, I looked up. The delicious scent was clearly wafting from the man directly in front of me.
He was tall, with sandy-blond hair. He wore a large black overcoat over what looked to be a charcoal-gray suit. The way the suit fell over his broad, defined shoulders looked tailored. From what I could tell as my neck craned to look at as much of him as possible, he looked impeccable, he looked polished, and he looked good.
His suit fit him perfectly — but with a perfect-looking body like that, I was willing to bet pretty much everything fit him perfectly. Including a wedding ring.
Immediately, curiosity began to take over, and I couldn’t help but move half a step to the side. What did he look like? Did his face match his perfect body? I wanted to look at him. I had to. There was something intriguing about his smell, and the way his clothes fit.
I gawked at his hands, trying to catch a glimpse of platinum or gold on his finger. Nothing that I could see so far. It became a game as I bided my time in line.
Just off to his side, I watched through the corner of my eye until his head turned slightly toward me, just enough for me to get a glimpse of his face.
And my god, I was in awe as I turned my head toward his and caught his gaze.
His jaw was chiseled to perfection; he looked like a fucking Greek god. But his cheeks were full and youthful. He had the most amazing brown eyes that I had ever seen befor
e. And they were looking at me — at least for a moment, they were.
I smiled at him, and he smiled back, but only slightly — as if he hadn’t really seen me at all — before he turned his attention back to the front of the line. He seemed distracted and really tired. The small pull at the corners of his eyes and mouth spoke of fatigue.
There was something about him that made me wonder why exactly he was tired. I wondered who he was, what sort of life he led. And damn it all, I wondered how it was possible for someone to look so tired and so good at the same time.
He craned his neck toward the front of the line, and his fingers tapped against each other. I could tell that he was growing impatient. I had to wonder, as he looked out toward the beautiful dark-skinned cashier, if he was late for something, or if he just really, really needed coffee. Because the cashier was absolutely gorgeous, and he seemed completely unfazed by her.
Maybe he was gay? Well, that would be a tragedy for all of womankind.
No, I was pretty sure my gaydar wasn’t lying to me because I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. I was looking at his back, his gorgeous muscular back and equally wonderful ass — or at least, what I could see of it — for the entire length of time we waited in line. I couldn’t manage to take my eyes away from him. That was until he hissed out a resounding, “Jesus!”
I wasn’t sure what he was suddenly pissy about, or what he was talking about. I mean, he couldn’t have just all of a sudden been pissed that we were standing in this line, could he?
I followed his gaze to the front of the line. A young man stood at the counter. Probably in his early-twenties. I watched as his back stiffened. His hands journeyed, almost in a panicked rush, all over his body.
He patted at the back of his jeans, right on his butt, and then the pocket of his coat.
