Zusatztext Praise for the Billionaire Boys Club novels A fast, sexy read that transports you to the land of the rich and famous. Fiction Vixen I am in love with this series. Love to Read for Fun Informationen zum Autor Jessica Clare Klappentext The Billionaire Boys Club is a secret society of six men who are incredibly wealthybut not always so successful when it comes to love... Real-estate tycoon Hunter Buchanan has a dark past that's left him scarred and living as a recluse on his family's palatial estate. Hunter is ready to give up on loveuntil he spots an enigmatic red-haired beauty and comes up with an elaborate scheme to meet her. Gretchen Petty is in need of a paycheckand a change. So when a job opportunity in an upstate New York mansion pops up! she accepts. And while she can overlook the oddities of her new job! she can't ignore her new boss's delectable bodyor his barely leashed temper. Hunter's afraid his plan might be unraveling before it's truly begun! but Gretchen is about to show him that life can be full of surprises... Leseprobe Billionaire Boys Club The Girl's Guide To (Man)Hunting Someone had entered the town house. At the sound of voices, he paused in the foyer of the enormous home. Out of habit, he moved into a shadowy alcove, lest they catch him unawares and stop to stare at him. Even after years of being a scarred, ugly bastard, he was still bothered by the expressions people made at the sight of his face. It was easier to just blend in with the shadows until they were gone. He waited, his ears straining to determine who was there. The only people he'd expected to stop by were Logan's assistant, who'd insisted on picking up some of his books for a donation, and the movers who'd come to clean out the rest of what was left in the house. He'd thought the place would be empty, so it would be a perfect time for him to inspect it. He hadn't realized someone else would be coming in, much less two women. There was a shuffle of footsteps, and then the sound of a box thumping onto the ground. What is this place? A soft, pleasant female voice asked. It's lovely. Some dead celebrity's home or something. I don't care. The other woman's voice seemed full of laughter and amusement, but her tone was cutting. All I care about is how we're supposed to get these damned boxes back to SoHo. What the heck was Audrey thinking? Could we call a cab? The women approached Hunter's shadowed hiding place, and he stilled, waiting for them to pass without noticing him. The redhead was standing not ten feet away from him, her head bent. He couldn't see her face, but she was curvy and tall, her ass a perfect heart from where he was standing, and her hair was a brilliant shade of red. The other girla pretty brunette with wide eyesbalanced two boxes and was waiting for instructions from the other woman. I don't know about a cab, the redhead said. That'll clean us out, and I still want to order that pizza. So? the dark-haired one asked. Brontë, the redhead said in a crisp voice, and Hunter came to attention. That was a familiar name. But the redhead was still talking. You have to understand something about my sister. She's not the most practical creature. She's not? She seems practical to me. Not when it comes to work. She thinks we're mules or something, as evidenced by all this. And if I need to call and gripe at her to get her in line, then, by golly, I'm going to do it. She put the phone to her ear. A few seconds later, she made a frustrated sound. Voice mail. I can't believe her. She said there were two boxes. Not five boxes of hardbacks. Does she think we're bodybuilders? It's not that bad, the brunette placated her, adjusting the boxes in her arms. I'm sure w...

Praise for the Billionaire Boys Club novels
 
“A fast, sexy read that transports you to the land of the rich and famous.”—Fiction Vixen
 
“I am in love with this series.”—Love to Read for Fun

Autorentext

Jessica Clare

Klappentext

The Billionaire Boys Club is a secret society of six men who are incredibly wealthy—but not always so successful when it comes to love...

Real-estate tycoon Hunter Buchanan has a dark past that's left him scarred and living as a recluse on his family's palatial estate. Hunter is ready to give up on love—until he spots an enigmatic red-haired beauty and comes up with an elaborate scheme to meet her.

Gretchen Petty is in need of a paycheck—and a change. So when a job opportunity in an upstate New York mansion pops up, she accepts. And while she can overlook the oddities of her new job, she can't ignore her new boss's delectable body—or his barely leashed temper.

Hunter's afraid his plan might be unraveling before it's truly begun, but Gretchen is about to show him that life can be full of surprises...

Leseprobe

Billionaire Boys Club

The Girl’s Guide To (Man)Hunting

Someone had entered the town house.

At the sound of voices, he paused in the foyer of the enormous home. Out of habit, he moved into a shadowy alcove, lest they catch him unawares and stop to stare at him. Even after years of being a scarred, ugly bastard, he was still bothered by the expressions people made at the sight of his face. It was easier to just blend in with the shadows until they were gone. He waited, his ears straining to determine who was there. The only people he’d expected to stop by were Logan’s assistant, who’d insisted on picking up some of his books for a donation, and the movers who’d come to clean out the rest of what was left in the house.

He’d thought the place would be empty, so it would be a perfect time for him to inspect it. He hadn’t realized someone else would be coming in, much less two women.

There was a shuffle of footsteps, and then the sound of a box thumping onto the ground.

“What is this place?” A soft, pleasant female voice asked. “It’s lovely.”

“Some dead celebrity’s home or something. I don’t care.” The other woman’s voice seemed full of laughter and amusement, but her tone was cutting. “All I care about is how we’re supposed to get these damned boxes back to SoHo. What the heck was Audrey thinking?”

“Could we call a cab?”

The women approached Hunter’s shadowed hiding place, and he stilled, waiting for them to pass without noticing him.

The redhead was standing not ten feet away from him, her head bent. He couldn’t see her face, but she was curvy and tall, her ass a perfect heart from where he was standing, and her hair was a brilliant shade of red. The other girl—a pretty brunette with wide eyes—balanced two boxes and was waiting for instructions from the other woman.

“I don’t know about a cab,” the redhead said. “That’ll clean us out, and I still want to order that pizza.”

“So?” the dark-haired one asked.

“Brontë,” the redhead said in a crisp voice, and Hunter came to attention. That was a familiar name.

But the redhead was still talking. “You have to understand something about my sister. She’s not the most practical creature.”

“She’s not? She seems practical to me.”

“Not when it comes to work. She thinks we’re mules or something, as evidenced by all this. And if I need to call and gripe at her to get her in line, then, by golly, I’m going to do it.” She put the phone to her ear. A few seconds later, she made a frustrated sound. “Voice mail. I can’t believe her. She said there were two boxes. Not five boxes of hardbacks. Does she think we’re bodybuilders?”

“It’s not that bad,” the brunette placated her, adjusting the boxes in her arms. &…