Her Real Alpha Read online

  HER REAL ALPHA

  A SEXY BWWM BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE By..

  SHERIE KEYS

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  Summary

  Melanie Rowland enjoyed crashing high society events and living the type of life she could usually only dream of.

  And it was at such an event that she met billionaire Hunter Berkshire. Rich, powerful and drop dead gorgeous, he was every ladies dream.

  He was definitely a REAL alpha!

  And after getting to know him better Melanie began to fall for his feisty ways. She fell head over heels and straight into his bed....

  Will Melanie get the chance to have a real relationship with Hunter? Or might there be some surprises in store?

  Copyright Notice

  Sherie Keys

  Her Real Alpha © 2017, Sherie Keys

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Contents

  Chapter1

  Chapter2

  Chapter3

  Chapter4

  Chapter5

  Chapter6

  Chapter7

  chapter 8

  chapter 9

  chapter 10

  chapter 11

  chapter 12

  chapter 13

  chapter 14

  Chapter1

  Melanie

  As I entered the ballroom, I glanced over at the stage and smiled as the band’s lead singer smoothly crooned my favorite Frank Sinatra song - ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’. This gala wasn’t half bad compared to the many elite parties I’ve grown a habit of crashing. The champagne was very good and it most certainly wasn’t in short supply. I took a flute off a passing server’s tray and continued to walk around the Double Tree’s grand ballroom space.

  Thankfully, I had hammered out the right timing to arrive at these parties. There was almost always a seating chart and if I crashed a gala too early, I would most certainly stick out because there’d be nowhere for me to sit. I had to come in once the formalities were over and the band started playing songs people would dance to. Of course, that meant I’d miss out on the good food, but I mostly crash elite parties for something to do and as an excuse to dress up.

  “Hi, I’m Hunter Berkshire.”

  I was almost startled out of my reverie by the smooth deep voice that came out of a very tall and handsome man right next to me. I had taken a seat at one of the tables to watch the band and he was looking down at me with a small smirk. He had pitch black hair that was styled in an undercut, side parted, and slicked down. He had those angular features, high cheekbones, and intense brows that any male model would kill for. Not to mention his plump lips and striking green eyes.

  “I’m Melanie, nice to meet you,” I said politely and his almost grin stretched into a full one as he gestured to the name card on the table in front of me.

  “For a second I thought you might be Hunter Berkshire. I’m relieved; I didn’t want there to be some huge and confusing mix up,” he said and I chuckled almost humorlessly, his subtle sarcasm was crafty. I picked up my flute of champagne and stood gracefully to get out of the sarcastic Hunter’s seat.

  “Crisis averted, maybe I’ll go sit in a gentleman’s chair who won’t mind me taking some pressure off of my feet,” I said and Hunter smiled before he gestured to his seat.

  “I apologize, I’m nothing if not a gentleman, please feel free to use my seat,” he said and I studied his expression which was giving nothing away. But his gaze was calculating as it traveled down the length of my body and back up. He was wearing a tailored black tuxedo and looked like a million bucks rolled into a pair of Armani dress shoes. I sat back down and Hunter took a seat next to me. This was bound to be interesting.

  “So I couldn’t help but notice that you are crashing this event,” Hunter said and I looked over at him, not too alarmed, because I knew that if he invited me to sit back down, he wouldn’t have me thrown out or anything.

  “Yes, I am; I have to admit that it’s not all that boring. The band and the open bar is what’s keeping this party going,” I commented and Hunter’s eyebrows lifted as if he were impressed.

  “It sounds like you’ve crashed a lot of parties then, am I right?” he asked and I nodded before I took a sip of champagne. “You don’t fit the bill. Usually elite crashers show up to galas or events wearing the best of brand names, usually over or under dressed though, since they didn’t receive an invitation. They’d find their friends who were actually invited and try to impress them with their ‘bold move.’

  “Hookers, at least the common type, will show up in their best knock-off and, of course, over-mingle,” Hunter gestured to me, grinned, and then continued, “I noticed you as soon as you walked through those doors; your dress and shoes are designer, but appropriate, anyone you’ve spoken to had addressed you first, and you didn’t seem to have any friends here.

  “I thought you were simply late until you sat in my seat without checking the name card,” Hunter kept on grinning as if he was proud of himself for figuring it out and I had to laugh.

  “You are…very observant, a little like a stalker… but I have to hand it to you, you figured me out. I’m an elite party crasher.” I whispered the last bit as if it were my secret identity I was sharing with him and Hunter chuckled.

  “So the question is, why do you do it?” he asked and I shrugged then gestured to the band.

  “I like the music mostly, of course I could just go to a lounge or club, but the alcohol isn’t free and people here have respect for personal space. Also, if it’s a cocktail party, the food is a major plus,” I said and he smiled.

  “So you don’t crash these things to make business connections? Or to ruin anyone’s day?” Hunter asked and I shook my head.

  “No I just genuinely like these fancy parties, and the people aren’t all that bad, they are great at practicing small talk with,” I said and Hunter laughed.

  “You are right about that one. So how’d you get into the habit of doing this?” he asked and I wondered if he was a private investigator or something; I felt like I was playing twenty questions.

  “I was coming from a wedding once at the Waldorf and next door was a charity gala. There was no one at the door checking invitations or anything so I walked right in. Everyone was celebrating having met their goal and the band had been switched for a DJ, which was really cool. Not to mention of course, the alcohol was free and little desserts were being passed around on the server trays. Delicious, I’ll never forget the one caramel mousse bite I had.

  “The people there were younger, for the most part, so I had guessed that all the older, richer guests had probably left. Everyone was friendly, everyone was rich, but surprisingly friendly. I had a good time that night and sinc
e then I’ve always been curious about other elite parties.”

  Hunter nodded as I told him the story and he gestured to the dance floor as couples danced to the swing music. I glanced around the ballroom space and noticed that the party hadn’t thinned yet, people were still at their tables talking, or standing around mingling, at the bar, or listening to the band.

  “This is hardly like that first gala you stepped in on, though,” he pointed out and I shrugged.

  “Not all are, but when I do find one like it, it’s a treat,” I said and he smiled at me as if I were a problem he wanted to solve.

  “I find these parties to be quite boring, how can you willingly come to them?”

  I sighed and put my nearly empty glass of champagne down.

  “Well, you are most likely around these people all the time, they’ve become predictable to you. You know their type and the more time you spend with them the smaller your tolerance grows, right?” I asked and Hunter smiled at me as if I surprised him, but he nodded.

  “That’s exactly it…” he said and I made a vague gesture to the room around us.

  “I find these people to be a little fascinating. Some are stuck up, yes, but most are actually not how I expect rich, or well off, folks to be, and I find it refreshing,” I said and Hunter smiled.

  “Then, of course, there are the bored elites, like yourself, am I right?” I asked and he nodded again.

  “So tell me…what do you do? Where are you from?” he asked with genuine curiosity and I smiled.

  “Well, that conversation is for our next installment, my friend. I have to get going now. Show up at another one of these and maybe we’ll bump into each other again,” I said while I stood up, Hunter stood with me and he touched my hand.

  “Can I have your full name at least, Melanie?” he asked and I grinned at him.

  “What fun would that be?” I gestured to his seat and added, “Oh and thanks for letting me use your seat.”

  I walked away before he could stop me again and made for the exit. I could see the party getting a bit boring after another hour or so; that meant it was time to leave. I had just stepped out into the hallway that housed the few ballrooms in the hotel and opened up my clutch to see if I had enough cab fare to get home. I hadn’t been looking in front of me, of course, and bumped right into someone’s hard chest.

  “Whoa there, are you alright?” he asked as he held on to my elbows to keep me from falling back onto my butt. I looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes and he smiled at me. He had a really great smile, perfect teeth, and dimples for Pete’s sake. “Let me get that for you,” he bent down to retrieve my clutch and tucked my lip gloss and money back into it before handing it over.

  “I’m sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going. Thank you,” I said and he waved away my thanks as if my bumping into him like a klutz was no big deal.

  “It’s alright, it happens. My name is Caleb by the way,” he said and I smiled at his easy going tone.

  Caleb was a good head and shoulders taller than me, though I could tell he had a muscular build under his tailored grey tuxedo. He had dirty blond hair that was perfectly coiffed and he had a light fuzz of facial hair on his slightly cleft chin and jaw. He was classically handsome and had a striking resemblance to James Dean.

  “I’m Melanie, nice to meet you,” I said and then realized that I was still standing very close to Caleb.

  I took a casual step back and Caleb gestured to the ballroom I had just come out of.

  “So you were at the investors’ gala, huh? Is it boring, should I even go in?” he asked and I laughed.

  “Well, I can tell you that it’ll get boring in the next hour or two, so you can go in now and make your rounds,” I advised and Caleb nodded while he stroked his chin contemplatively.

  “I do have to show my face since I am technically throwing the party with the rest of my firm…but I’ll take your advice and make a break for it in about an hour,” he said and I smiled.

  “Well, good luck then.” I started to make my way around him, but Caleb turned to walk down the hall alongside me.

  “I bet the party wouldn’t be so boring if you were to go in there with me,” he said and gave me a charming smile. He flashed his dimples and all. I had never come across anyone so inherently charming and cute before; it melted my heart a little.

  “You know, I’d love to, but I just made a perfectly mysterious exit from the gala and it would just look plain silly if I went back in now,” I said and Caleb sighed.

  “You’re right, sexy exits are hard to pull off, I wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. So where are you headed now?”

  I laughed and then shrugged my shoulders.

  “Well, I was just going to head home for the night, I have to work tomorrow,” I said and Caleb pretended that he was shot in the heart.

  “On a Sunday?” he asked and I had to laugh; he seemed a bit dorky, too.

  “Yeah, I have a deadline I’ve been procrastinating on and I’ve worked myself into a hole. If I don’t work tomorrow, I might lose my client,” I said and Caleb looked at me with interest.

  “What do you do?” he asked and I answered without thinking.

  “I’m an artist, I do freelance for children’s stories,” I said and then realized that I broke one of my own rules when it came to these parties. I never give too much about myself away, but as long as I didn’t give him my full name I was pretty sure I’d be safe.

  “Wow, that sounds incredibly freeing,” Caleb said and I wanted to hug him for saying that.

  “It is, I love following my passion for work, it’s better than sitting in some office, I think.” Again, I spoke without thinking and Caleb laughed.

  “Working in an office is the dream for some people, but I know what you mean,” he said.

  I simply nodded my head with a chagrined smile, thinking it best I not say anything else to further shove my foot into my mouth.

  “So if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you end up at an investor’s gala?” Caleb asked and I gave him a sly smile.

  “Well, I sort of crash parties like these, elite events and what have you.”

  He grinned at me and then we came to a stop just outside of the elevators that lead down to the lobby.

  “That is an interesting hobby, what do you get out of it?”

  “Mostly something to do and, of course, meeting people,” I said.

  He gave me a chuckle.

  “Most of the people that crash these parties aren’t like you, that’s for sure, you didn’t get kicked out that’s for sure,” he pointed out.

  “I’m making it an art form, it’s all about intention when you crash these events. I wasn’t here to pass out business cards or to settle a score with anyone.”

  Caleb laughed.“Well that’s a relief, it seems you’re very good at what you do.”

  I shrugged and reached forward to call up an elevator.

  “So you really are leaving then,” he sighed as if I had broken his heart and I smiled.

  “I am, it was really nice talking to you Caleb,” I said and he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card.

  “Likewise, Melanie, and since you aren’t here passing out cards, how about I give you mine?”

  “I’d take it from you if we were anywhere else, but I have rules about my moonlight party crashing,” I said and Caleb seemed genuinely disappointed.

  “Well, maybe I’ll see you at another one of these parties then.”

  I smiled.

  “Keep an eye out for me,” I said as the elevator doors opened. I stepped inside and Caleb stood just outside the doors.

  “Another sexy and mysterious exit, how does she do it?”

  The elevator doors closed and I sighed. That was a very good question.

  * * *

  I was cursing myself for waiting so long to tackle this project. The book was twenty pages long and meant to be mostly visual of course, as all children’s books were. I had pa
inted only five pages of the book so far and that meant I was rushing to get the other fifteen done, but with quality. As I sat in the spare room of my apartment that I designated for painting, I glanced between my previous pages, the book’s manuscript, and my easel. I was twelve pages in and the full twenty were due by Monday. After that, I really needed to create a painting schedule and stick to it.

  By around eight p.m. I had just set out the last page to dry.

  I’d been up since five in the morning so I could get it all done before the end of the day. I left the room feeling like I had just been freed from a dungeon. I loved to paint, and creating stories for kids to open up their minds and grow was always gratifying.