About the Authors

CLARE CONNELLY was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Harlequin book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero, and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space—a surefire sign that she’s in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Harlequin novels continue to be her favorite-ever books. Writing for Harlequin is a long-held dream. Clare can be contacted via clareconnelly.com or her Facebook page.

DYLAN ROSE is a writer from New York City who is obsessed with watching romantic comedies, taking hot baths on cold nights and finding the perfect red lipstick. Her debut novel for Harlequin DARE is Take Me On. Follow her adventures on Instagram, @DylanRoseRomance.

RACHAEL STEWART adores conjuring up stories, from heartwarmingly romantic to wildly erotic. She’s been writing since she could put pen to paper—as the stacks of scrawled-on pages in her loft will attest. A Welsh lass at heart, she now lives in Yorkshire with her very own hero and three awesome kids—and if she’s not tapping out a story she’s wrapped up in one or enjoying the great outdoors. Reach her on Facebook, Twitter (@rach_b52) or at rachaelstewartauthor.com.

J. MARGOT CRITCH currently lives in St John’s, Newfoundland, with her husband, Brian, and their two little buddies, Simon and Chibs. She spends equal amounts of time writing, listening to Jimmy Buffett’s music and looking out at the ocean—all the while trying to decide if she wants coffee or a margarita.

The Dare Collection December 2019

The Deal

Clare Connelly

Turn Me On

Dylan Rose

Naughty or Nice

Rachael Stewart

A Sinful Little Christmas

J. Margot Critch

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90061-8

THE DARE COLLECTION DECEMBER 2019

The Deal © 2019 Harlequin Books S.A. Turn Me On © 2019 Dylan Rose Naughty or Nice © 2019 Rachael Stewart A Sinful Little Christmas © 2019 Juanita Margot Critch

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

The Deal

Back Cover Text

Booklist

THE BILLIONAIRES CLUB

Dedication

PROLOGUE

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

Turn Me On

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Naughty or Nice

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

A Sinful Little Christmas

Back Cover Text

Booklist

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

About the Publisher

The Deal

Clare Connelly

In the final installment of The Billionaires Club quartet, British playboy billionaire Nicholas Rothsmore makes a deal that Billionaires Club owner Imogen Carmichael can’t refuse—four weeks of pleasure!

One night of decadent, anonymous sex in the superluxe Billionaires Club—that was the deal. Then we would go back to our busy lives, free of entanglements. How could I have known it would be the most intense sex of my life? A night that left me with a gnawing need only she could satisfy…

Miss Anonymous wanted to remain that way. But as the Rothsmore heir, I’ve learned that money can buy pretty much anything…including the help of Billionaires Club and Chance charity owner Imogen Carmichael. I was beyond surprised when the hardworking, straitlaced entrepreneur turned out to be the same woman who’d donned a pink wig, stilettos and a mask and taken me to unexpected heights!

Now I’m offering her a new deal: in return for helping me enjoy my last four weeks of freedom before I assume my family duties and marry the most appropriate candidate, I’ll educate her in the art of seduction, satisfying her every whim with four weeks of exquisite sex. Four weeks with the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met. Four weeks that will have to last a lifetime…

Harlequin DARE publishes sexy romances featuring powerful alpha heroes and bold, fearless heroines exploring their deepest fantasies.

Four new Harlequin DARE titles are available each month, wherever ebooks are sold!

Also by Clare Connelly

Guilty as Sin

Her Guilty Secret

His Innocent Seduction

The Notorious Harts

Cross My Hart

Available now!

Burn My Hart

Harden My Hart

Unbreak My Hart

Coming soon from Mills & Boon DARE!

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

THE BILLIONAIRES CLUB

Exclusive. Elite. Always discreet.

Welcome to the Billionaires Club! Join the members of this elite club—Ash, Seb, Orla and Imogen—as they get up to exciting, sinfully sexy and downright dirty naughtiness at exclusive, international and glamorous events. Let the debauchery begin!

Have you received your invitation yet?

Enter the world of the Billionaires Club:

The Debt by Jackie Ashenden

The Risk by Caitlin Crews

The Proposition by JC Harroway

The Deal by Clare Connelly

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

For Sharon Villone Doucett, who was one of the first

readers to find my books, and who has been such a

champion and supporter ever since.

PROLOGUE

Five years earlier, Becksworth Hall,

Wiltshire, England

‘YOU’RE A ROTHSMORE, for Christ’s sake.’

My father is perhaps the only person more apoplectic than I am.

‘She is aware of that.’ Surprisingly, my voice comes out clear and calm, even when I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. I reach for the Scotch on autopilot, topping up my glass. My hand shakes a little. Shock, I suppose.

And I am shocked.

‘This isn’t like Saffron.’ My mother wrings her gloved hands in front of her pale peach suit, the wedding corsage still crisp and fragrant. I reach for my own in the buttonhole of my jet-black tuxedo jacket, and dislodge it roughly, pleased when the pearl-tipped pin snags on my finger. A perfect circle of burgundy blood stains the white rose at the decoration’s centre.

‘How do you know, Mother?’

I don’t mean to sound so derisive, but in the four hours since my cousin received a text from my bride’s best friend explaining that the love of my life wasn’t going to be showing up to our wedding, I’ve had to endure more platitudes and Saffron-defending than I can stand.

‘Well, she’s…’ Antoinette Rothsmore struggles to describe Saffron. There are any number of words I could offer. Suitable. Wealthy. Privileged. Appropriate. Beautiful. Cultured. Words that describe why my parents introduced us and cheered from the sidelines as we hooked up. But the reason we got engaged is simple.

I love her. And she’s left me.

‘Nice,’ my mother finishes, lamely.

Saffron is nice.

Too nice for me?

Perhaps.

I haven’t seen her in three days, but when I did, she was in full preparation mode for our wedding, reminding me that the photographer from OK! magazine would be coming to take pictures of the party so not to let my groomsmen get too messed up on Scotch before the ceremony.

I throw back the single malt and grip the glass tightly. How many have I had? Not enough to make this feel like a distant dream.

‘Nobody does this to a Rothsmore.’ My father’s face has turned a deep shade of puce. I’d think it’s sweet that he cares so much except I don’t for a second imagine he cares about the fact I just had my heart handed to me in tatters in front of five hundred of Europe’s elite. Princes, dukes, CEOs—everyone.

Not that I care about the embarrassment. I care about Saffy. I care about the fact we were supposed to be married and she’s sent me a ‘Dear John’ text via a friend and my cousin.

‘What would you like to do, Father? Sue her?’

‘If only,’ he snaps, then shakes his head. ‘Though the last thing this family wants is a scandal. Damn it, Nicholas. What did you do to her?’

I blink, his question something I haven’t considered.

What did I do to her?

Is it possible I said or did something to turn her away?

No.

This isn’t about me.

This is pure Saffron. Passionate, affectionate, changeable.

I grimace, rubbing a hand over my jaw, neatly trimmed just the way Saffron likes.

I fix Gerald with a firm stare. ‘I did nothing, Father, except agree to marry the woman you chose for me.’ I don’t say the rest. That I fell head over heels in love with her as well.

We used to laugh about the nature of our relationship—how we both knew it was a heavy-handed set-up from our parents. How their interference was like something out of a nursery rhyme. Except we were going to have the last laugh, because we were in love.

We were in love.

When had I started believing in love? What kind of goddamned idiot fool have I become to worship at the altar of something so childish?

I snap the Scotch glass down against the table, a little louder and harder than I intend, and I see my mother jump in my peripheral vision.

I’ve been an idiot.

There’s no such thing as love. No such thing as ‘happily ever after’. No such thing as ‘meant for each other’.

And suddenly, all I want is to get away from this. From my parents and their expectations, from this life I’ve been groomed all my life to lead. I want to get away from Saffy, from our wedding, from my damned broken heart.

I want to get drunk, and then I want to get laid—one way or another I’m going to forget Saffy ever existed.

I stumble a little as I head for the door. ‘Where are you going?’ My mother, behind me, is anxious-sounding.

‘Get Alf to fire up the jet.’ I hear my own words, slightly slurred.

‘But why? You can’t leave. What if Saffron comes looking for you?’

I prop an arm on the doorjamb for support, blinking at my mother for several long seconds. ‘Then I won’t fucking be here.’

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