An Heir For The Billionaire. Kat Cantrell

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       Time fell off a cliff as their eyes locked.

      Nora forgot to breathe as Reid Chamberlain’s presence electrified every nerve in her body. And then he stood up without a word, crossing to her. The closer he came, the more magnetic the pull became. He was all man now—powerful in his dark gray suit, a bit rakish with his brown hair grown out long enough to curl a bit on top, and a sinfully beautiful face that became that much more devastating due to a five-o’clock shadow.

      And then he was so close, she could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes that had deepened to a shade of rich mahogany. A dark, mysterious scent wafted from him, something citrusy but mixed with an exotic spice that wholly fit him. She had a feeling she’d be smelling it in her sleep tonight.

      “Hi, Nora.”

      Reid extended his hand. For a moment, she thought he was reaching for her, to hug her, or … something. But instead, he closed the door with the heel of his hand, leaning into it, his arm brushing her shoulder.

      The snick nearly separated her skin from her body, but she kept herself from reacting. Barely.

      * * *

      An Heir for the Billionaire is part of the Dynasties: The Newports series—Passion and chaos consume a Chicago real estate empire.

      An Heir for the Billionaire

       Kat Cantrell

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since then. She writes smart, sexy books with a side of sass. She’s a former Mills & Boon So You Think You Can Write winner and an RWA Golden Heart® Award finalist. Kat, her husband and their two boys live in north Texas.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

      If there was any poetic justice in the world, Sutton Lazarus Winchester had gotten his.

      Nora sagged back against the wall of the sterile hospital room, unable to process the inescapable fact that her seemingly infallible father was indeed dying of inoperable lung cancer. She should feel relieved. His tyrannical reign was nearly over. The man who couldn’t be bothered to walk her down the aisle at her own wedding lay pale and gaunt in a hospital bed, as if a bit of his spirit had already fled for hell in advance of the rest.

      The relief didn’t come. Nora had traveled home to Chicago with the barest hope she might find a way to reconcile with her father in his last days. And now that she was here, the sheer difficulty of that task nearly overwhelmed her.

      “I had to see it for myself,” Nora murmured to her sisters, Eve and Gracie, who flanked her as she faced down their father. None of them had gotten too close to the bed in case Sutton had more gusto than he seemed to have. Right now he appeared to be asleep but that didn’t matter.

      Like a snake, he waited until you were within striking distance and then sank his fangs into the tenderest place he could find, injecting poison and pain until it suited him to stop. It was how he’d always operated, and Nora had no doubt he’d find a way to do it from the grave.

      “We all did,” Eve murmured back. “The doctor wasn’t too happy with me when I asked her to allow another doctor to review the oncology reports. But I had to make sure.”

      Methodical to her core, Eve never missed dotting an i or crossing a t. As the oldest Winchester sister, she’d always been large and in charge and seldom let anything stand in her way.

      “Wanted to see the death sentence with your own two eyes, hmm?” Nora said without malice.

      Sutton had terrorized all three of his daughters, but Nora was the only one who’d grown so sick of the constant drama surrounding her father that she’d moved halfway across the country to Colorado, effectively—and gratefully—turning her back on the money, the glitter and the heartbreak of the lifestyle she’d been born into.

      Eve glowered. “Wanted to make sure it wasn’t manufactured. I wouldn’t put it past

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