Читать книгу One Night with the Rebel Billionaire - Trish Wylie - Страница 3

Trish Wylie worked on a long career of careers to get to the one she’d wanted from her late teens. She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder while playing the promotions game, patted her manicured hands on the backs of musicians in the music business, smiled sweetly at awkward customers during the retail nightmare known as the run-up to Christmas, and got completely lost in her car in every single town in Ireland while working as a sales rep. And it took all that character-building and a healthy sense of humour to get her dream job, she feels—where she spends her days in reindeer slippers, with her hair in whatever band she can find to keep it out of the way, make-up as vague and distant a memory as manicured nails, while she gets to create the kind of dream man she’d still like to believe is out there somewhere. If it turns out he is, she promises she’ll let you know…after she’s been out for a new wardrobe, a manicure and a make-over…

Recent books by the same author:

Mills & Boon^® Modern Heat™ THE RETURN OF THE REBEL HIS MISTRESS, HIS TERMS CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE BAD BOY

Trish also writes for Mills & Boon^® Romance! In February look out for her fabulous new book, MANHATTAN BOSS, DIAMOND PROPOSAL!

Mills & Boon^® Romance THE BRIDE OF THE EMERALD ISLE HER ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE THE MILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSAL

Dear Reader

Is there anything sexier than an intelligent man? I don’t think so. If he’s drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as sin he’ll turn my head—absolutely he will—but make him as intelligent as he is drool-worthy and you’ve got my undivided attention!

When Adam Bryant started to take shape in my mind he was an intelligent man—don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t realise just how intelligent until I’d written the first chapter. I guess there should have been hints of it there but—call me shallow—I may have been a tad distracted by the image of an Adonis skinny-dipping on a beach in the moonlight. I’m only human! Then all of a sudden my motorcycle-riding, skinny-dipping, black sheep/prodigal son of a hero started quoting Voltaire and Kerouac at my heroine. Hang on, I thought. This one is deep. This one is way more intelligent than I am. This one? Oh, my. This one is incredibly sexy! Never mind my heroine—I want him.

But a guy like this is a thinker, he’s an analyser. He was never gonna fall for a woman overnight, was he? So what happens when the story wants itself told inside a time frame of four days? Hmm…let’s just see, shall we?

Hs & Ks

Trish