Reforming The Heartbreaker: Prequel (Hollywood Heartbreaker #0.5)
REFORMING THE HEARTBREAKER
A Hollywood Heartbreakers’ Novella
Christine Glover
Christine Glover
Contents
Reforming the Heartbreaker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Acknowledgments
Also by Christine Glover
About the Author
REFORMING THE HEARTBREAKER © 2017 by Christine Glover
Edited by: Jayne Wolfe
Cover by: Sweet ’N Spicy Designs
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.
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. For information about subsidiary rights contact the author via her website.
www.christinegloversite.com
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Thanks to all my readers, especially my fabulous street team—the Passionettes! You make my world a happier place. XX
Reforming the Heartbreaker
Chapter 1
Addison Carrington pulled into Malibu General Hospital’s parking lot. She noted the barrage of news crews, tabloid reporters, and photographers crowding around the entrance and groaned. Ryder Bennett's ass wouldn't be easy to save from the publicity of a car crash that killed his Olympic teammate’s wife, Tiffany. But then nothing about taking over Ryder’s portfolio for her father’s PR agency would be simple.
She checked her face in the mirror. The last time she’d seen Ryder, Addison had been an awkward nerd with a weight problem. But today the woman reflected in the small mirror no longer carried extra pounds or bore the imperfections of blemishes.
Ryder could never hurt her again. Though her heart still fluttered uncontrollably at the thought of seeing him. Something she’d successfully avoided for eight years. Stop it Addison. He’s a way to prove to Father you’re ready to take over the agency after you fix Ryder’s major league screw up. She’d already arranged for someone to head to his Los Angeles penthouse to pack a suitcase of clothes and other essentials. No way would she let the press get a chance to catch him alone.
Carrington Agency’s lawyers had already started negotiations with the District Attorney in charge of the case. Hopefully, they’d avoid a long, drawn out court battle. Deep down, in a place she’d kept closely guarded, Addison didn’t believe Ryder would endanger another person’s life. Maybe a person’s heart, like hers. But not a person’s life. Grabbing her designer black briefcase, she opened her car’s door and stepped with all the confidence she’d worked to attain toward the crowd milling on either side of the front doors.
Ahead, the sliding glass doors opened to reveal an orderly standing behind a wheelchair with Ryder in it. Her throat tightened. The crash had spared the mountain bike champion major injury, but a small row of stitches crossed the bottom left side of his strong jawline. Still, nothing could detract from his sexy athletic build, which his crisp white dress shirt and torn jeans emphasized to perfection.
Ignoring the flashes of cameras, the questions shouted by the reporters, she squared her shoulders and pushed through the throng toward the one man who held the key to her professional future.
He moved to stand. “Where’s your dad?”
“Recuperating from a mild heart attack at our estate in Palm Springs.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Don’t move, and keep your mouth shut until we leave.” She squeezed his muscles, and forced him to remain seated.
A tic jumped in his temple, and his electric blue eyes locked onto hers. “You sure you can change reality?” Ryder asked. “Tiffany’s dead. Eric’s quit the cycling team. My coach is threatening to drop me, and the negative publicity is bringing every chick I’ve dated to the tabloid talk show circuit to grab their fifteen seconds of fame. I don’t want to lose my career, but this shit isn’t going to be easy to fix.”
Though the midday California sun white washed the hospital’s facade and heated the concrete she stood on, a sudden rush of cold filled her to the core. The hairs on the back of her neck raised. She didn’t like the starkness in his voice.
“You’re our top sports client. This is a setback…”
“A terrible accident that left someone dead isn’t a minor setback, Addie.”
The use of her former nickname sent a thousand tingles through her skin and warmed her more than she dared to admit. It also resurrected other memories she’d rather not revisit. She pursed her lips and willed her mind to regain control over the current hormonal chorus of whoopees inside her. “I answer to Addison now. I’m the best in my field, and I will fix this situation to our mutual benefit,” she said, tightening her grip on his oh-so powerful shoulder. “So be quiet, and let me do all the talking. Got it?”
* * *
“The toxicology report is negative. You didn’t have a drop of alcohol in your system.” Addison crossed her office’s plush carpet and gave Ryder the file that held the police department’s accident report. “You like speed, and you’ve got an Olympic gold record for women revolving in and out of your bedroom. But Tiffany Langston? She’s—was—married to one of your best friends. I don’t buy what the press is saying.”
Ryder tossed the folder onto Addison’s desk, then stared through the glass windows that overlooked the Los Angeles skyline. Haze muted the atmosphere, but the endless modern buildings stood in stark relief against the bright June day. Tunneling his fingers through his hair, he took in the vista of the San Gabriel mountains rising in the distance. Pale brown earth and random tufts of yellow grass and sage created a quilt of land he seriously wished he was racing across right now.
Instead he was in an air conditioned office trying to figure out how to save his career with the one person he’d never expected to work with again. Addie—correction Addison—his former tutor. He’d really liked her spirit and had been drawn to her empathetic nature. Hell, he’d been half in love with her, but too afraid to admit the truth. He’d screwed that up royally. The college girl who had hugged him with enthusiasm when he’d aced his economics final had changed a great deal from that sweet, uber smart, nerd.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, and closing his eyes, Ryder tried damn hard to erase the memory of the last time he’d seen Addison. But even now he could hear the shocked gasp, the whimper of a cry after he’d bullshitted the rest of his team about why he’d been nice to Fattie Addie. He’d lied to save face, and had hurt her deeply. Regret couldn’t begin to explain the internal punch to the gut he’d absorbed while pretending he didn’t care, or that he wasn’t attracted to his tutor.
Instead, he’d let his ego drive his mouth and had been a prick of epic proportions toward someone he’d genuinely liked. She’d been cute then, but now? Man, oh man, she was fucking hot. Her power suit accentuated the curves of her hips and slim waist and no amount of layering could hide the swell of her full breasts. Mile high stilettos added to her statuesque height and her once short-cropped hair had grown into long,
gorgeous blonde waves, which she tamed into a professional, smart style.
“You’re right.” Ryder turned away from the view to hold her gaze. “There’s more to the story.”
She crossed her arms and the fabric of her designer cut jacket stretched tight across her cleavage. “Spit it out.” She arched a perfectly shaped brow when she caught his glance drop lower. “We don’t have time to waste.”
Ryder swallowed hard. “Tiffany had issues. She got drunk at the Beragio after Eric went home to check on their boys. Started making plays on the other guys—I got her out before the paparazzi caught her giving lap dances and acting like a stripper.”
“Good.” Addison dropped her arms to her sides and the tiny line between her eyebrows disappeared. “Witnesses will help corroborate the counterattack I’ve planned.”
“No way.” Ryder closed the distance between them to stand toe-to-toe with her. “Eric doesn’t need to know about this shit. His sons lost their mother. I won’t drag his family through the mud.”
“You have an obligation to this agency to maintain your contracts with your sponsors. They’re threatening to drop you.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ryder said. “I make one mistake and they want to drop me? I can’t lose the sponsorships, or my spot on the Olympic team.” Everything he’d worked toward remained in jeopardy, but he didn’t want to hurt Eric and his family with the truth.
“Exactly. That’s why you have to let me use this information.”
Her nostrils flared, and the pulse in the hollow of her throat fluttered wildly. Interesting. More than frost flowed through her veins. “The accident wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t insisted on taking her home,” Ryder said. “So maybe I am partly to blame.”
“You were trying to protect her family from a scandal. Ironic considering you’re the one embroiled in a public relations nightmare as a result.”
Ryder paused, took in the worry he heard in her voice. And the slight hint of understanding accompanying it. They’d been friends once and he’d discovered that she had an empathetic heart—she deserved to hear the entire truth even if he wouldn’t let her use it. He’d hoped she’d see the bigger picture even though she exuded more frost than icebergs floating in the Arctic Ocean.
“I didn’t know Tiffany had the hots for me when I pulled her away from one of the other guys.” Ryder inhaled a deep breath, and Addison’s feminine floral perfume teased his senses. Somewhere beneath the cool professional exterior, he had to believe his Addie still existed. But then, he’d blown their friendship and he couldn’t be sure. She was here to do her job. And despite the tell-tale signs of physical attraction, nothing special existed between them anymore. Not after what he’d done. “We were rounding the corner before the turn off to their place in Malibu when she groped me.”
Addison nibbled her lower lip, and that tiny line between her brows returned. “Go on.”
“I pushed her off, but she got wicked crazy. Tried to grab my dick a second time. When I shook her off, she jerked the steering wheel. I lost control of the car. Now Eric’s a widower and his sons don’t have a mother.”
“You’re not to blame for her actions. With witnesses and the toxicology report I can neutralize the negative press within twenty-four hours.”
“I won’t let them suffer more than they already have—find another way to save my butt, Addison.” Ryder shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d made a lot of dumb ass mistakes in his life, including the shit that had landed him years earlier at Saddle Creek Ranch for juvenile delinquents. He’d learned then to live by rules he refused to break, even though one particular rule niggled at the far reaches of his brain, making him cringe inwardly. “You said you were the best. Prove it.”
Chapter 2
Addison took in the length of Ryder’s muscular body. He’d planted his feet in a wide stance and pushed his broad shoulders back. Regardless of the consequences to his lucrative mountain bike career, he stood solidly, ready to fight her plans. That determination, and cocky athletic arrogance had garnered Ryder dozens of championships, trophies and Olympic gold medals. It had once upon a time been shared with her side-by-side while they studied economics. The word fail didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Ever.
A knot pulled tight at the base of her head. She had to get him to play it her way or he could lose his sponsorships and the sport he loved. Unfairly. Despite the inadvertent pain he’d caused her years ago, Addison didn’t believe he deserved that fate. He cared more about how the details of the accident would impact his former teammate than about himself.
But Addison had to convince Ryder his way was wrong, or her father would never have faith in her ability to run Carrington Agency. And her father had to retire permanently, or risk another heart attack. As hard as it had been to gain his approval throughout her life, Addison loved her father. She didn’t want him to die. She wanted to make him proud.
She rubbed the back of her neck, swallowing the fear and frustration scratching her throat. “I admire your desire to protect your friend, but I can’t agree with you throwing away your career for him.”
“I won’t have to throw it away if you’re as good as you claim you are,” Ryder said, tilting his head to shoot her an I-dare-you look. “Losing my spot on the Olympic team will fuck everything up. That can’t happen.”
“I’m better than good,” she said with feigned nonchalance though her heart pumped at lightning speed behind her sternum. She’d always been a sucker for his teasing, sexy glances. Damn it. “But can you deliver what I want on demand?”
He raked the length of her body, and all the way back up to lock onto her gaze, attraction gleaming in his pupils. “Never doubt my ability to perform.”
Electricity charged between them and the room seemed to shrink. One step closer and she’d evaporate the minute distance between them. Oh, she wanted to bring him to his knees, make him beg for her in ways he’d claimed he never would beg. But she had a job to do. No way would she cross the professional line between them and risk losing the goals she’d worked so hard to attain.
Addison stepped back and rested her hip on her desk, inhaled a deep breath and tried not to think about how Ryder’s clean, crisp male scent made her mouth water. After waiting several beats, she picked up the police report. “I don’t need to bring more pain to Eric and his family to get you back in the public’s good graces,” she said, then slid the folder into the bottom of her file trays.
“You promise to keep the information I’ve shared with you a secret?”
“Yes.” Addison nodded, while mentally crossing her fingers and schooling her features into an unreadable mask. “I’m confident you’ll live up to my expectations for your public relations’ campaign.” However, she personally reserved the right to confirm his story behind the scenes if she needed a backup plan. Ryder didn’t always know what was best for him. Now she’d make sure she covered his proverbial sexy ass.
“Okay, I trust you.” Ryder pulled his hands from his pockets and held one out. “After all, you’re the reason I got to stay on the university’s cycling team. Shake on it and we have a deal.”
Addison hesitated. The last time she’d gotten Ryder out of a shit pile of worry, she’d thought he’d cared a little about her. Not just as a tutor, but as a woman.
Big mistake.
But that naive young woman had grown up and no longer carried a secret crush on Ryder. His motivation to protect his teammate chipped away at her long held belief that he was a self-centered jerk, but she couldn’t let emotion guide her choices. She’d control the outcome for their mutual benefit. “Deal,” Addison said, placing her palm in his. “But this means you must follow all my instructions without question. Understood?”
She expected Ryder to give her the typical, male version of a chest thumping power grip before releasing her hand. Instead, he gently squeezed longer than a respectable business arrangement handshake required. A tingling sensation, almost a spark of energy, charged through her
skin and shot straight through her. His grateful, apologetic look made her pause.
“Understood.” He broke their contact and his full lips lifted in a half smile that had probably charmed the panties off dozens of women. “You’re the boss. Can’t wait to see what you make me do first.”
There was a hint of teasing in Ryder. Just as when he’d been freaked about losing his spot on the university’s team, now he switched on the guy who acted as if nothing major would annihilate his athletic career. He’d caused many a night of wishful gee-I’d-take-my-panties-off for him thoughts. Hell, once she’d had a journal full of her fantasies. She’d burned the foolishness in a fit of hurt and betrayal.
She wanted to hold onto that hurt, use it to keep her attraction to him at bay. But now she’d gotten a glimpse of the real man behind his charming, devil-may-care mask, and her resolve faltered. That guy had hero stamped all over him, not heartbreaker. And he posed a dangerous threat to her closely guarded heart.
* * *
“Good news,” Addison said as she walked into her living room the following Monday morning. “Our lawyers brokered a deal and you won’t have to appear in court. Spares us a media circus.”
Ryder closed his laptop, and stretched his arms behind his head, peering at her. Online tabloids hadn’t backed off slamming him for his role in Tiffany’s death. But at least Addison had total control over the legal situation. Plus, she’d made sure he stayed in her sight, and had brought him to her home in Malibu after she’d picked him up at the hospital. “What kind of deal?” he asked, wondering if she owned anything in her closet besides neutral colored power suits and mega high heels. Not that the heels didn’t incite all kinds of interesting ideas about her legs wrapping around him while he drove into the hot body he knew existed beneath her business armor. She’d already worked tirelessly for him… would she be the same in bed?