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other books from Black Market Billionaire

Monopoly DAD

Black Market Billionaire - Book 2

Forget the $200 - All I want to collect is him
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Sonny Wentworth parked his hotel on my Broadway, and all I can think about is passing O. Screw the two-hundred dollars; what I really want to collect is him.

Being a gossip columnist is a tough biz. When I discover the world’s richest criminal has a secret child, I leap at the chance to cozy up with him for a scoop. There are worse ways to pay for my kid’s corn flakes than "dating" the hottest single dad in the universe.

Sure, with his criminal past, there’s a lot at stake if he finds me out. But that doesn’t scare kick-butt journalists like me. It’s the falling in love part that has me shaking in my heels.

If I don’t get my hands on a scoop soon, I’ll be out of a job, but my hands are interested in playing with other things.

It’s time to win me some prime real estate on the Monopoly Dad board. But what will happen if he finds out who I really am?

 


Monopoly Dad is the second book in Black Market Billionaire, a series of romantic suspenses with a heavy dose of love and laughter. If you adore single parent romances with quirky characters, lots of laughs, and awesome plots then you'll love this slow burn story of two single parents falling in love!

Get it to read about Sonny and Rachel's journey to their happily ever after today!

SkylarSweeney.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com.

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The timer went off for the fifth time, and I considered walking out the door. This was a bigger catastrophe than when Jones, Brawn, and I tried to take a Russian prison outside of Saratov with nothing but two hand grenades, an RPK machine gun, and three .44 caliber pistols. Needless to say, that was not a success. This night was turning out similarly.  Minus the bullet in my shoulder.

I glanced at my card, wincing at the next name on my list. Alicia Gregors. The Little lady who used to have sex with my father dressed as an elf. Note that it was my father dressed as the elf and the Little woman playing Santa Claus. Not Mrs. Claus. Santa. And this would be in our living room during the Christmas season.

I still have nightmares.

Except when I got to the table, mini-Santa wasn’t there to greet me. Instead, it was the only woman who’d turned me on in the past, oh, thirteen years or so. The woman from the basketball game a few days ago. Ravishing Rachel.

“Alicia, it looks as though the plastic surgery has really paid off,” I said  as I took a seat at her table. “I didn’t realize they could replace legs and spinal cords.”

Rachel let out a sigh. “I didn’t expect everyone at these things to know each other.”

“The world of the rich and the snobby is a small place,” I said, and she chuckled. “What are you doing here on this lovely evening?”

She gave me a sheepish smile. “You mentioned that you were coming, so I… Well, I wanted to come too.”

She came for me? I felt my lips twitch with pleasure at the idea.

“I’m flattered.”

Her cheeks reddened, and she smiled again, making me wish I could return it. Or at least explain why I didn’t, but Cindy insisted that it wasn’t the sort of thing a woman would want to know. At least not right away. And she’d been correct about mentioning guns, so…

“Did you want to start, or should I?” she asked, and I held back a grimace. Right. The questions. Kill me now.

I unfolded my paper, glancing down at it. Not that I needed to, but it gave me something to do other than stare at her plump, shimmery pink lips. Maybe I could ask what her lip gloss tasted like? That probably wasn’t appropriate, but damn if I didn’t want to know.

“Okay, question number one. Are you a federal agent?”

She laughed, her eyes widening when I didn’t join her. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged. “It’s a fair question. You would be surprised how many federal agents I come across in an average week.”

“I suppose it’s better than the questions your father asked,” she murmured, and I did chuckle at that.

“I’m sure it is. My dad is a pervert.”

She nodded her agreement. “He seems to care about you, though.”

I shrugged. “I guess he does, but he’s terrible at showing it, and he loves himself more.”

“To answer your question, no, I’m not a federal agent.” She paused. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Good, definitely,” I assured her. My lip twitched as relief filled her eyes. “Your turn.”

“Let’s see…” She twisted her hands around, obviously thinking. “What are you looking for in a woman?”

“I’m really not,” I replied, chest fluttering a little when I saw the disappointment on her face. Was it possible she was truly disappointed? “But if I was, I suppose I’d be looking for someone trustworthy. A woman who was interested in something other than money and who got along with my daughter.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. You must go out with a lot of women only interested in money.”

I shook my head. “I don’t see many women at all.” I paused. “What are you looking for?” I had a very hard time believing it could be me. All of the things that made me a successful leader were things that would terrify your average woman, as pointed out by Cindy.  

Rachel frowned. “Honestly, I’m not really looking for anyone, either. I just came to the gym to see if my theory about you and the mask was right and, well, I really enjoyed our talk. I thought it couldn’t hurt to talk to you again.”

“So you snuck into a speed dating event?” I said dryly, and she laughed.

“Yeah, crazy, huh?” She paused, licking her lips, and my heart sped up—something I found mildly disturbing. My body didn’t react to people this way. Not since I was shot. It was… strange. Good, but strange.

“Okay, here’s a silly one: How often do you go to the gym?”

My eyebrows raised. “Are you a gym fan?”

She giggled. “No, but I noticed your biceps at the game the other day. It’s obvious you spend quite a bit of time there.”

“I actually don’t go to the gym very often, but I work out every day. I have weights at all my homes, and I have a gym in my house in Southampton. Though I like to work out in the yard there. Plus, I run five miles every day.”

“Wow,” she said, looking impressed. “I’m one of those people who spends most of my time saying ‘I really need to go to the gym’ and never doing it.”

“I’ve done it for so many years that it’s more of a habit now than anything else,” I admitted. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself early in the morning if I wasn’t working out.”

“It must be neat to be able to work out in your yard in the Hamptons. That’s the one thing I don’t like about the City. Not a lot of grass and trees.”

I nodded. “Camping is one of my favorite things to do, but I rarely go.”

“I’ve always wanted to go camping,” she said, looking wistful. “When I was a kid, my dad and I were always talking about doing it, but we never did.”

“You want to go sometime?” I asked, wondering where the hell that came from. Did I really ask a woman if she wanted to camp, of all things?

Her eyes widened, then she grinned. “That sounds really cool. Just let me know when.” She paused. “And since it’s my question… do you think you’d like to do this again? Maybe with more than twenty minutes?”

I hesitated, part of me screaming to go for it and the rest of me insisting it wasn’t worth the risk. “I…”

The timer went off, and I let out a sigh of relief, standing abruptly. “It was nice to meet you, Rachel. Have a good evening.”

And with those words, I was gone, leaving the beautiful woman sitting all alone.