A Millionaire at Midnight
by Naima Simone Bachelor Auction, #4 Publication Date: February 13, 2017 Genres: Adult, Entangled: Indulgence, Contemporary Romance
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2kxZ98L
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2lD7XLv
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2kxPAH0
Boston socialite Morgan Lett is having a run of bad luck. Her fiancÃ© just dumped her for her stepsister, the charity foundation sheâs given her life to is in danger of folding, and now, the gorgeous man she bid on and won at a masquerade bachelor auction turns out to be a cold-hearted jerkâ¦and her new employer. Millionaire Alexander Bishop needs the best wife money can buy. In order to inherit his family business, he must get engagedâfast. And Morgan, with her beauty and pedigree, is the perfect candidate. Her sharp tongue may drive him crazy, but she needs money to save the foundation she loves, and he needs a fiancÃ©e. Itâs a flawless arrangementâno strings, no love. But soon she has him craving more, and cursing the platonic terms of their agreement. Still, he wonât allow needâno matter how hot it burnsâto threaten everything heâs built.
âYou can be such a bitch, Morgan,â Chrystal spat before trailing after her sister.
Meh. Sheâd been called worse. And two ducks in a bucket, fuck it. That had felt good.
Turning around, Morgan headed back for the ballroom. Funny. She no longer needed that fresh airâ
She slammed into a wall, quickly shooting her hands up to prevent a face-plant into plaster. âSon of aââ she grumbled, but the gentle but firm grasp of fingers circling her upper arms and steadying her cut off the complaint. O-kay. Maybe not a wall. She blinked. Not unless the hotelâs dÃ©cor included stark white dress shirts and black tuxedo jackets.
Slowly, she lifted her head. Black bowtie. Taut golden skin stretched over a strong neck. A clean-shaven jaw and chin that couldâve been carved out of granite. A shockingly carnal but stern mouth with a slightly fuller bottom lip that appeared as if a woman had just been nipping at it only moments earlier. A straight, arrogant slash of nose and equally patrician, sculpted cheekbones.
Andâ¦ Oh God.
A pair of stunning, silvery-grey, thickly lashed eyes. Luminescent. The flowery word popped into her head, and though it seemed ridiculous to attach such purple prose to this man with his face of honed edges, cutting angles, almost harsh sensuality, she couldnât banish it.
Crazy how a lovely, grey gaze glinting withâ¦withâ¦
Icy contempt dispelled any lingering warmth inside her with an arctic blast.
Well, damn, all sheâd done was bump into him. But he stared at her as if she were a flea-bitten stray that had strutted up to him and pissed on his tuxedo pants leg.
âExcuse me,â she apologized, stepping back and out of his hold. âI wasnât paying attention.â
âItâs fine.â His hands fell away from her as if he couldnât abide one more moment touching her. Stillâ¦she fought not to close her eyes. God, she could roll around in that voice like bikini-clad strippers in a batch of fresh mud. Just coat herself in it. Even the concise, clipped tone couldnât tarnish the deep, dark timbre. âYou wereâ¦preoccupied,â he added, the same disdain that hardened his stare coloring his words. His flinty gaze flicked over her shoulder in the direction the Terrible Twosome had disappeared before resting on her again.
The last part of her conversation drifted back to her. ââ¦this city is full of CEOs and millionaires. Where thereâs one, thereâs another, and most are ready and willing to get laid.â She smothered a cringe. Damn. That had probably sounded awful. Can you say âgold diggerâ?
Usually, she wouldnât have cared about explaining herself, but for some reason, she wanted to melt the ice in those silver eyes. That same elusive logic had her longing to see a smile curving those sensual lips.
âI think you may have misconstrued what you mightâve overheardâ¦â
A dark eyebrow arched high. âI doubt it.â
Surprise at the abrupt interruption winged through her. What the hellâ¦ Irritationâno angerâsurged hot and heavy inside her. Whether it was at him for his arrogant contempt or at herself for giving a damn about his opinion of her, she couldnât say. Yeah, she could. Screw him and the high horse he rode in on. He didnât know herâ¦ No one knew her.
She grinned, and at the same time, treated him to a cool, withering gaze that sheâd learned to perfect right along with her knowledge of which dinner fork to use.
âOh good.â She sighed. âFor a second there, I was afraid you might believe I was only after a manâs money.â She chuckled, shaking her head. âWhen the truth is I want his money and ovary-exploding orgasms. Those two together are so hard to find, you know what I mean?â
Patting his shoulder, she stepped to the side and continued toward the ballroom.
ABOUT NAIMA SIMONENaimaâs love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Linda Howard many years ago. Though her first attempt at writing a romance novel at 11 never saw the light of day, her love of romance and writing has endured. Now, she spends her time creating stories of unique men and women who experience the dizzying heights of passion and the tender heat of love. She is the wife to Superman â or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent â and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States. Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Profile
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