Her Two Wilde Billionaire Bad Boys [Wilde, Nevada 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Wilde, Nevada 3

  Her Two Wilde Billionaire Bad Boys

  Danielle Glass Roberson has been on the run since she was twelve. Having been held hostage left scars on her. She continues healing in a little town with quirky people she’s come to love. Even though it will break her heart, one day she must leave Wilde, Nevada so her dark past doesn’t catch up with her again.

  At twenty-five, Lance Archer and Charles Covington sold their company for quite a fortune. The past few years, the two billionaires have been jet-setting their way around the globe. Coming to Wilde to meet a friend, they collide with Danielle, who has a fire and strength they’re both instantly drawn to.

  When a drug cartel begins gunning for Danielle, fun and games turn serious. But it isn't just the drug lord who wants her. It's someone dangerous from her past. Hoping to protect Danielle, Lance and Charles want to win her love. Trust has never come easily for Danielle, but her heart wants to surrender.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 43,307 words

  HER TWO WILDE BILLIONAIRE BAD BOYS

  Wilde, Nevada 3

  Chloe Lang

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  HER TWO WILDE BILLIONAIRE BAD BOYS

  Copyright © 2013 by Chloe Lang

  dpg

  First E-book Publication: November 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Her Two Wilde Billionaire Bad Boys by Chloe Lang from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Chloe Lang’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Lang’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  This one is dedicated to a woman who has been in my life longer than anyone. She’s my mentor, my hero, my example of how one should live their life to the fullest, and my friend.

  Mom, this one is for you.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  HER TWO WILDE BILLIONAIRE BAD BOYS

  Wilde, Nevada 3

  CHLOE LANG

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  Leaving the diner, Danielle Glass walked down Main Street to the sheriff’s office. She wondered why Sheriff Wayne Champion had summoned her. It certainly couldn’t be to give her statement again.

  With all her being, she wanted to forget what had happened to her in Malcolm Winters’s basement.

  She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, recalling the horror she’d experienced at the hands of the beast.

  Thank God, the bastard is dead. Even though the psycho was gone, her nightmares remained, mingling with older, dark memories.

  Wyatt and Wade Masters, Mackenzie’s men, had taken out the son of a bitch and saved Danielle and Mac’s brother, Trent, from certain death. Mackenzie was a strong woman, and like her, was not native to Wilde, Nevada.

  Wilde was different on so many levels, but the one thing that had made it the perfect place for Danielle to stay was that the citizens welcomed everyone without question. Questions were the last thing she needed. Being invisible and off the radar was the most important thing to her.

  Turning left on Coyote Street, she headed to the entrance of the jailhouse.

  She walked in and found the sheriff talking on the phone.

  He motioned for her to take a seat. “She’s here now.”

  She tensed. Who’s he talking to about me?

  “Thanks, Austin.” The sheriff hung up the phone.

  Realizing the man on the other end of the phone had been Austin Wilde, she breathed a sigh of relief. Austin was married to Jessie, one of the women Danielle had grown close to.

  “Thanks for coming, Danielle.”

  “What’s this about, Sheriff? I really have told you everything I can about what happened with Winters. I don’t have anything to add.”

  “I know, but this isn’t about that. Not exactly. I have two reasons for calling you in.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that.

  “You know that Austin and I have been working together to bring down the drug cartel that Winters was working for.”

  “Yes.”

  “Austin found out that some of the cartel’s known associates have been digging around and asking questions about you and Trent Green. We believe that they are under the assumption that you and Trent have the money that Malcolm stole from them.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. We were Winters’s prisoners, not his partners.”

  Sheri
ff Champion shrugged. “The cartel’s rationale isn’t something anyone can understand, least of all me. Likely, they think Malcolm bragged to you and Trent about the four hundred thousand dollars he’d stolen from them. In their eyes, why wouldn’t he? Winters planned on killing you.”

  “And we would’ve been dead if the Masters hadn’t shown up when they did.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “I want you to be careful, Danielle. There’s been no sign of the cartel in Wilde, but I’d like to assign a bodyguard to you.”

  “I’m fine, Sheriff. I can take care of myself.” I’ve been doing it my whole life.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I have a gun of my own.”

  “Most in Wilde do.” He grinned. “This might be the best armed town in all of America.”

  “Sheriff, I really don’t want some man following me around town like a puppy dog. I promise to keep my eyes open. If you and Austin get wind of someone from the cartel coming to town, I will reconsider your offer.”

  “That’s just it, Danielle. We don’t know when they might be coming. Better to have the drop on them before they have the drop on us, if you get my meaning.” He leaned forward. “Which brings me to my next reason for having you come here. I did a little digging myself on you and Trent.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “What for?”

  “I know you aren’t who you say you are, Danielle. Why?”

  She closed her eyes. Wilde had been the longest stop for her since turning twelve. The year before coming here, she’d lived in three different cities. The year before that, five. She’d even started imagining that she would be able to stay for good. Not possible. Not now.

  “Danielle, I want to help.” The sheriff was a very kind man.

  She opened her eyes and looked at the sheriff. Wayne Champion was like the dad she’d never had. His sons, all pillars in Wilde, adored him. For the first time in her life, she knew she’d found a man she could trust.

  Taking a deep breath, she began. “My real name is Danielle Roberson. I ran away from home when I was twelve.”

  She told him everything—every horrific detail of why she kept her real identity secret. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the memories flooded out of her.

  He came around his desk and pulled her into an embrace. “Sweetheart, I understand. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll see to it.”

  “Please, Sheriff. Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want my family to find me. Ever.”

  “I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”

  * * * *

  Just as the jet hit some turbulence, Lance Archer threw the football to his friend and he stumbled back to his seat.

  Their pilot’s voice came over the speaker. “Sorry, sirs.”

  “No worries.” Chuck, still on his feet, held the football they’d been tossing to each other during the flight. “When will we be landing?”

  “Another hour, Mr. Covington. I would suggest you buckle in. I’m expecting it to be a bumpy ride from here on.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, Lyle, not to call him ‘Mr. Covington.’” Lance always enjoyed a chance to tease. “Call him Chuck.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Archer.”

  “Don’t you dare, Lyle,” Chuck said firmly. “There’s only one person in the world that gets away with that.”

  Their pilot of the past five years laughed. “I know, sir. I know. I’ll let you know when we are ten minutes from approach.”

  “Thanks.” Lance turned to his best friend in the world. “Great catch during the turbulence, bro. Toss it over.”

  Chuck lobbed the ball to him. “Buddy, you’ve got to stop trying to get everyone to call me by that nickname.”

  “Why? Can you honestly say you like your name? Charles Henry Covington?” He sent the pigskin back to his friend, the man who had been by his side since college. “That name is for someone with a stick up their ass. Doesn’t fit you, Chuck. Not one bit.”

  “Same old argument, Lance. You know it’s never going to change my mind.” Chuck lifted his beer can, and in his poor attempt at a British accent, said, “I actually am quite fond of my name, sir. Charles Henry Covington comes from a long line of bluebloods.”

  He held his glass of scotch. “More like a line of misfits and horse thieves.”

  They laughed and took long drinks from their beverages.

  Another major bump from the turbulence caused their drinks to spill.

  “Damn, what a waste of good scotch.” Lance grinned as he wiped up the mess.

  “How long has it been since we’ve been to one of Michael Chamberlain’s infamous parties?”

  “Almost a year.” They’d been fast friends with Michael. Unlike Lance and Chuck, the fellow billionaire had been born with several silver spoons in his mouth.

  “Didn’t he hit on you first, Lance?” Chuck liked to tease almost as much as he did.

  “Of course he did. Look at this body, buddy. Who wouldn’t?”

  Chuck laughed. “Me, for one.”

  “You’re not gay, but if you were, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me, I’m sure.”

  “Are you interested in my hands?” Chuck grinned broadly. “Are you coming out of the closet after all these years, Lance?”

  “Yeah. Right. In your dreams. If I were gay, you’d be the last person I’d want to go to bed with.”

  “You couldn’t handle what I’ve got between my legs, buddy.”

  They loved teasing each other. Always had. It had begun shortly after the first time they’d shared a woman’s bed. Now, sharing women was the norm for them, as was ribbing each other.

  “You forget. I’ve seen your junk, and I wasn’t impressed.”

  “I’ve seen yours, too, Lance O’Little.”

  “Ten inches of all-American man meat.”

  Chuck shook his head. “More like nine, maybe nine and a half, for you. I’m ten.”

  “Shall I get the ruler out again?”

  He and Chuck were like brothers in every way. They’d founded and built up their software company right after college. When O’Leary Global had purchased Archer-Covington Technology, they’d become billionaires at the ripe old age of twenty-four. Now, five years later, they were headed into their thirties.

  “Any ideas what you want for your birthday, old man?” Lance had been trying to come up with something that would impress Chuck and pull him out of his gloomy mood of late. “You’re not giving me much time to get you a present or plan an event. You’ve only got a month left in your twenties.”

  “And you turn thirty a month after me, old man. I will let you know when I come up with something I want.”

  They continued tossing the football in silence for a while.

  “You know, Chuck, when you can have anything your heart desires, most things lose their appeal.” For the past year or two, boredom had become the norm. Nothing held any luster or surprise. Even the parties, no matter how lavish, were dull and gray. He and Chuck had reached for the stars and had succeeded. But now, with no dreams left to pursue, he felt lost and adrift. He was pretty sure Chuck felt the same. “Sometimes, I miss the old days.” Not just sometimes. All the time.

  “I agree, buddy. Maybe my present from you could be an additional donation to our foundation?”

  “That’s a great idea, Chuck.” He was proud of their work with the homeless and orphans. “I’m thinking a cool million. Maybe we could expand the focus of the Archer-Covington Foundation.”

  “To what?”

  “To help men with tiny dicks get help.”

  “Fuck you.” Chuck laughed. “I’m bigger.”

  “You wish.”

  “Do you think Michael is telling the truth about this town of his, Lance?”

  He knew Chuck better than anyone. Like him, there was a void in his friend’s life that needed to be filled. By what? Neither of them had a clue. That’s why their days and nights were just one long di
version, going from one party to the next. “It’s gotta be called Wilde for a reason.”

  Out of the blue, Michael had sent them an e-mail to join him in his new residence, a tiny town in Northern Nevada. Michael had been part of the jet set, like them, trekking across the globe from one party to the next. Then, he’d fallen off the map.

  “He said in his message that we would love the openness of the citizens. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m intrigued.”

  “So am I, Chuck. So am I.”

  “Regardless, we always have a great time when we’re with Michael.”

  * * * *

  Chuck stepped off the jet and onto the tarmac with Lance following behind.

  “That last thirty minutes of our flight was no picnic,” Lance said, referring to the turbulence.

  “I agree. It’s nice to be on old mother earth again.”

  “Welcome to Nevada, guys.” Michael stood in front of them. “What do you think of my new runway?”

  Lance put his arm around their friend’s shoulder. “This is yours?”

  “I built it for the town.” Michael had always had a generous heart. “The grand opening is set for next week.”

  “Pretty short runway,” Chuck teased. “Nothing commercial can land here.”

  “If you want to build something bigger, Chuck, be my guest. Anything you want to do to help develop this area would be great.”

  “Michael, have you changed? Where is the fun-loving, sun-seeking, Peter Pan, gay guy we partied with on Depp’s yacht at Cannes two years ago?”

  “Still here. That’s why I love this place. I’m sure you will love it, too.” Michael led them to his car, a stretch limo. The driver opened the door for them. “Thanks, Neil.” They all got inside the stretch. “Actually, I asked you here for a reason. I’ve got some things I want to talk to both of you about.”