Billionaires of Club Tempest series by Sloane Hunter (#2-3)
Requirements: .ePUB/AZW3 Reader, 1.6 MB
Overview: This series is an enemies-to-lovers slow-burn romance containing an unscrupulous Irish billionaire and a girl just trying to keep him (and herself) out of trouble. It can be read as a standalone and contains adult content.
Genre: Romance
The Groomsman (#2): Ruin my best friend’s wedding? Not on my watch.
Last year, billionaire Mac Walsh punched my ex-boyfriend in the face. Repeatedly.
This year, the Irish liquor kingpin is a reluctant groomsman in the most important event of my life: my best friend’s wedding.
As Maid of Honor, it’s my duty to get Beck down the aisle. And to make sure nobody gets in her way.
Especially not a brooding green-eyed businessman with a shady past, the body of a brawler, and an accent to make you swoon.
Mac has made it pretty damn clear he’d rather the resort burn to the ground than see Beck meet Sam at the altar.
And despite his devilish charm, that makes him the enemy.
Mutual dislike seems to be the one thing we can agree on.
He baits me into reckless decisions.
He stares at me with outright contempt.
And he loves pushing my buttons.
Does he see the wedding as some kind of affront to his free-wheeling bachelor lifestyle? I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care.
I’m not going to rest until my best friend says ‘I do’ and gets her happily ever after.
And if Mac Walsh wants to stop me?
Well, I’d just like to see him try.
The Playboy (#3): Celebrity? Welcome to reality.
Twain Conrad doesn’t know how to talk to children.
Weird, right?
Also not very promising if he’s going to work a hundred community service hours in my daycare.
I almost didn’t believe it when I realized who was coming in to work today.
Twain Conrad. The media’s bad boy. Billionaire by the age of twenty-three and known for his legendary parties and horrible decisions.
Arrogant. Entitled. A jackass, basically.
That was what I thought.
I didn’t expect him to be drop-dead charming.
I certainly didn’t expect him to be even better looking than on TV.
And for a moment, I thought that this just might work.
Then he told me his rules: No playing pretend. No snotty noses. Definitely no diapers.
And baby talk? What the hell is that?
As magnetic as Twain is, that’s where I draw the line.
I have a struggling daycare for the underprivileged to run and a dream of making it something more.
I don’t have time for his games.
So I have a few rules of my own: Step up, shape up, and shut up.
And for god’s sake, stop hitting on me!
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Billionaires of Club Tempest #1: Here
