The Billionaire's Enchantress Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Billionaire’s Enchantress

  About the Author

  Chapter One: Samantha

  Chapter Two: Eric

  Chapter Three: Samantha

  Chapter Four: Eric

  Chapter Five: Samantha

  Chapter Six: Eric

  Chapter Seven: Samantha

  Chapter Eight: Eric

  Chapter Nine: Samantha

  Chapter Ten: Eric

  Chapter Eleven: Samantha

  Chapter Twelve: Eric

  Chapter Thirteen: Samantha

  Epilogue

  The Billionaire’s Enchantress

  A Clean Paranormal Billionaire Romance

  By Valerie Moon

  © Copyright 2019 by Valerie Moon - All rights reserved.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Samantha

  Chapter Two: Eric

  Chapter Three: Samantha

  Chapter Four: Eric

  Chapter Five: Samantha

  Chapter Six: Eric

  Chapter Seven: Samantha

  Chapter Eight: Eric

  Chapter Nine: Samantha

  Chapter Ten: Eric

  Chapter Eleven: Samantha

  Chapter Twelve: Eric

  Chapter Thirteen: Samantha

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Valerie is drawn to all things paranormal and loves to write about it. Twisting some of her own experiences into her books. She lives on a ranch in the mountains of Tucson Arizona with her loving husband and her dog an 11-year-old Pomeranian, Daisy

  Join My Exclusive Readers Group Here https://tinyurl.com/y6s9k5ja

  As a member of our reader's group, you will benefit from FREE books, advance excerpts, news about giveaways and contests.

  For more information visit https://www.facebook.com/Valerie-Moon

  Chapter One: Samantha

  Samantha exited The Electric Ballroom’s stage on an endorphin high that had her spinning tonight. This is precisely where Sam felt like she belonged. She was on fire. While her Monday night set always did draw large numbers, this crowd seemed particularly enthusiastic. She knew her fan base was growing because her performances had been steadily improving since she began singing and playing guitar here over two years ago. Her social media efforts probably helped quite a bit too. Her fan base was growing daily from YouTube, VEVO, Spotify, Instagram, etc. and this audience was singing her songs right along with her during this nights performance. Tonight, she would definitely have given herself a 9 out of 10 stars, if anyone asked.

  “Hey, Sam?” Andrew Ford, the owner, and operator of the hottest club in New York City, The Electric Ballroom, approached her as she stepped off the gleaming wood-planked stage and behind the curtain, the crowd still cheering on the other side.

  “Hey, Andrew,” she said, slinging her six-string acoustic guitar over her shoulder and onto her back. “What’s up?”

  Andrew wasn’t the talkative sort, preferring to communicate in nods, grunts, and hand gestures. It was weird to hear him use words. Maybe that meant there was good news. Musicians were known to get signed to record labels here several times a year, from talent scouts hanging out at The Ballroom. Could tonight finally be her turn?

  “There’s a man here who wants to talk to you,” Andrew continued, his voice barely audible above the clapping of the audience. “Eric Camden. You ever heard of him?”

  Had she heard of him? Is this a joke? She would have to be living under a rock to not hear about him. He was plastered all over everything. The news, The Today Show, E-News, all the newspapers that still existed, tabloid magazines and lots of blogs written by too many attractive women to count and all of course secretly hoping to get a date with NYC’s hottest young eligible billionaire, bachelor, Eric Camden.

  Did he watch her performance, and now he wanted to introduce her to someone from a record label? It was almost way too good to be true. All these years of working her butt off at the magic shop, talking to dead people, and honing her musical craft in her spare time, might be about to pay off.

  “Of course I’ve heard of him,” she exclaimed, her heart in her throat. “Take me to him, Andrew.”

  Without another word, Andrew walked her over to the little makeshift green room that The Ballroom provided for performers behind the stage. He grunted, pointed at the purple door, and left her there.

  “Chill out he’s just a man.” She turned the brass knob and entered the room. There he stood, all perfectly tailored 6 feet and three inches of nothing but, tall, attractive, billionaire. He looked a bit out of place in his navy blue suit against the stark white walls covered in rainbow-colored graffiti from all of the musicians who had played The Ballroom over the past decade or so.

  “Mr. Camden?” Unsure if she should speak first.

  He turned his head from the wall, which he had apparently been reading, and faced her.

  “Please, call me Eric,” he insisted. “Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Parker. Or, may I call you Samantha?”

  He was so formal and good looking that it made her blush. Trying not to make eye contact “Sam is fine.”

  He looked just the way he did in magazines, but even more handsome up close. His bright blue eyes shined with a fierceness, and his tousled brown hair was just messy enough to make him approachable.

  She wondered if he did that to his hair deliberately, to make people more comfortable around him.

  “I’m not one to beat around the bush, Sam. I saw your show, and you were captivating. I had to let you know that I think you are so talented and I’m sure you will be famous one day. This might sound weird, but it’s like I know you. I felt drawn to you the moment that I saw you. I don’t normally ask to meet women this way. However, I’ve never felt an attraction quite this strong either. Please forgive me but, I had to make an effort to meet you.”

  “I, uh, well, I” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “I wanted to ask if you would you like to join me for dinner and drinks tonight, so we can get to know each other better? I have private club tickets at The Ballroom, Taylor is performing. I’ll even introduce you. Come on, I will make it worth your time, I promise.”

  Sam felt the elation slide away, and fury rise in its place. Oh, so that was his game? Meet the poor girl trying to make it in the music business and offer her an introduction to a high powered music producer in exchange for who knew what? Or, maybe he just wanted to pay her for sex outright, he must be thinking she was so hard up for cash that she would jump at the opportunity. Well, he had another thing coming.

  Eric wasn’t the first rich guy to try this with her. In fact, Sam estimated he was about the dozenth. She hated those types of men. The arrogance was astounding. Unfortunately, a lot of those types came to The Electric Ballroom, looking for an easy kill. New York was full of old money and new money bachelors. Lots of wealthy guys who thought they could buy a little romance with who they assumed was a hard-up, struggling musician. Well, she was neither, and Eric Camden needed to be reminded money didn’t buy everything.

  “I’m not for sale, Mr. Camden,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Despite what your previous experiences with women may or may not have been, I assure you that you cannot
buy me. Take your money, all your high powered friends, and leave me alone. I don't need any favors. Thank you.”

  “I thought you were going to call me Eric.”. He laughed.

  “Your money can’t buy you everything you want,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Especially not me. Good night!”

  Without waiting for him to respond, Sam turned on her heel and marched out of the green room. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so furious, or offended. To think, that man waltzed in here thinking he could use his money to have his way with her. He probably even thought she would be grateful for it. Well, he could shove that cash in a place she was too polite to say out loud.

  Sam blew right past Andrew at the barista counter without a word, and stalked out into the chilly Manhattan night, grabbing the next train home. To her annoyance, she thought of Eric the entire way home. What nerve that man had. Just who the hell did Eric Camden think he was?

  Chapter Two: Eric

  The hot redhead on the stage was distracting, which Eric found more than a little annoying. It was crucial that Camden International secure exclusive rights to print and distribute Zach Pine’s paintings, and the fact his eyes kept sliding from Zach to the beguiling woman singing and playing guitar wasn’t helping his cause. Every exporter and department store in town wanted to get merchandising rights from Zach. As one of NYC’s hottest new artists, his work was already selling in the six figures at auctions; whoever did the merchandising could charge premium prices. Zach had wanted to meet at The Electric Ballroom to discuss a deal. He had heard that this was the place to go if you wanted to see anyone who was anybody and had hoped to run into some of the famous crowd that seemed to frequent the club according to Page Six. The club was a multi-use facility that housed some of the most iconic stars in New York City when they performed as well as a world-class restaurant, dance club, coffee house and even an outdoor venue for when the weather was perfect.

  As if it wasn’t already difficult enough to hear his would-be client over all of the loud music, clapping, and shouted conversations going on around him, Eric now had an insanely attractive woman to keep him from appearing at his professional best to someone he had hoped to impress. Trying to forcefully keep his eyes off of her wasn’t helping, either. Every time he moved his gaze from her to his chattering prospect, her angelic voice brought it right back to her. It wasn’t like he had never seen a gorgeous woman. He was used to all the women throwing themselves at him. Obviously, he knew it was because he was the son of an extremely wealthy man. After taking over Camden International five years ago when his dad died, it was because he was the wealthy man. After his father's death, It didn't take him long to realize that most women were just after his wallet or a ring. But, there was something special about this girl on the stage. He felt as if he was physically being drawn toward her, almost as if he had no choice at all.

  She had a beautiful voice and could play the guitar like a pro. She was also his type. He had a soft spot for curvy redheads, and this one had all the correct attributes wrapped up in one adorable package. He found her creamy lightly freckled complexion, pert nose, and impossibly long shapely legs drove him to feel as if he had to seek her out. At this point in the meeting, he realizes that Samantha is just about to finish her set and he needs to have more self-control. He needs to close this deal with Zach, and he needed to get it together right now and focus on priorities.

  “You know, Eric,” Zach shouted above the din, “maybe this wasn’t the best choice of a meeting place. Why don’t I call you later in the week, and we can set up another one somewhere quieter.”

  Damn. He just blew it with Zach, didn’t he? His dad was right. He was a screw-up, even after all this time.

  “I don’t mind talking here,” he insisted, hoping to salvage the meeting. “It’s not so bad.”

  “It’s not your kind of place,” Zach said. “I can tell. It’s okay, man. Really. I enjoy coming here, but it’s really better for entertainment, not business. There’s too much to distract a person here. We won’t reach any kind of agreement like this. Let’s just reschedule. It’s cool.”

  Eric couldn’t tell if Zach was upset with his lack of attention or not. Maybe he hadn’t noticed it and just realized a loud bar with live music wasn’t conducive to making eight-figure deals. That’s what Eric hoped, anyway. All he could do at this point was salvage what he could of his potential business relationship with Zach Pine.

  “If that’s what you want, Zach,” he said, trying to not sound disappointed. He wasn’t sure if an emotion that subtle would convey over all the noise, anyway. “You have my private mobile number. Give me a call whenever you’re ready to reschedule. I’m available pretty much any time, day or night, so don’t be shy about calling late if you want to. We’ll go wherever you decide.”

  “Awesome. I’ll talk to you soon, Zach.”

  With that, Zach got up and left the building. As soon as he was gone, Eric found his gaze being dragged back to the woman on the stage like someone was pushing his face that way. He frowned as he looked at her shapely form, irritated his fascination with her ruined his ultra-important business meeting.

  Oh well. No use being mad at her. She didn’t even know he was here. He had no one to blame for Zach walking out on him but himself. He just hoped Zach actually did call him back to reschedule. As rude as he’d been, although unwittingly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he never heard from Zach again, and some other company signed the merchandising rights for the great artist.

  Eric tapped his fingers on the polished oak table, his chin in his hand. Well, there was still one way he could make sure the evening wasn’t a total waste of his time.

  He stood up and went to the barista counter, where a scruffy guy of about 50 with long blond hair mixed a variety of creative coffee drinks (all vegan, according to the sign out front). Andrew, the owner of the place. Eric knew it because Andrew wore a name tag with the word “Owner” under his name.

  He slid onto a barstool and snapped his fingers to get Andrew’s attention. The skinny man was in front of him in an instant. Eric guessed Andrew knew who he was. Most people in Manhattan did.

  “Mr. Camden,” Andrew gushed like he was meeting a celebrity. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction since he took over his dad’s company, and one he was still getting used to. “How can I help you?”

  “That woman,” Eric pointed to the redhead on the stage. “Who is she?”

  “That’s Sam Parker, sir. Twenty-three years old, aspiring singer and songwriter. She plays here every Monday night and has for the past two years. Would you like to meet her?”

  “As a matter of fact, I would.”

  “She’s just finishing her set. Let me take you to the green room, and I’ll bring her to you there.”

  Eric allowed himself to be led through a winding maze of dark, brick-lined hallways to a small, white-walled room with a green couch, a folding table, and a couple of metal chairs in it. It must be the room where the performers at The Electric Ballroom got ready for their shows and relaxed afterward.

  With promises of producing Sam shortly, Andrew left him alone. He’d only just begun to amuse himself by reading some of the obscene graffiti on the walls when Sam entered the room.

  She was even more stunning in person, and when she smiled, her neat rows of perfectly white, straight teeth made the room gleam (or was that the twinkle in her eyes?). She seemed excited to meet him, and he found it uncharacteristically hard to speak at first. Once he found his voice, though, her whole attitude abruptly changed.

  He wasn’t sure what he said wrong, but the next few minutes were a blur of her shouting at him, glaring, stamping her feet, and ultimately storming out of the room. Did she say something about him buying her? He couldn’t have heard that right, could he?

  So, the evening was an official bust, then. Super. He hated wasted time more than anything. At least he knew not to waste any more of it on Sam Parker. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen or not, he didn
’t have time for crazy people or women who wanted nothing to do with him.

  Still, he mused as he made his way back to the front of the building, Camden International often put on corporate events that required live entertainment. Regardless of what he thought of Sam as a person, she was a damn fine singer. Even the most uptight CEO would love her act. He could put aside his personal feelings for business. He’d been doing it for the past five years.

  “Andrew,” he called the owner over as he approached the barista counter. Andrew appeared before him in an instant, as if teleported there. “That woman, Sam. Can you tell me where she works, and give me her phone number? I might want to hire her sometime.”

  Andrew grimaced, a shadow of reluctance passing over his face. He didn’t want to violate Sam’s privacy, even for the owner of Camden International. Eric understood. He also realized what it took to get someone over that kind of reluctance.

  “It would mean a lot to me,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket. Slowly, he withdrew five one hundred dollar bills and placed them on the counter in front of Andrew. The man’s brown eyes went wide with longing. “I’d consider it a personal favor. I’ll even owe you a favor. How about it?”

  Andrew took the money. “Here’s her phone number,” he said, writing it down on a scrap of paper he grabbed from behind the counter. “She works downtown at Cauldron and Broomstick. It’s a shop for witches and Wiccans. Her mom owns it, but Sam essentially runs the place. You’ll find her there most days.”

  “Thank you, Andrew. I truly do appreciate it.”

  “Your welcome, Mr. Camden. Good luck with Sam.”

  Eric gave Andrew a curt nod as he left The Electric Ballroom. He wasn’t sure if he would ever call Sam, but if he did, he was sure he would need that luck. Too bad you couldn’t buy it. Otherwise, he would have a truckload of it delivered tomorrow.

  Chapter Three: Samantha