Are you ready for Caleb Blackstone?
Filthy Rich by Raine Miller is NOW
AVAILABLE! #BlackstoneDynasty
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Blurb
Billionaire Caleb Blackstone lives in the
glamorous world of wealth and success, with every material luxury. But the
moment he sees Brooke Casterley, none of that matters. Caleb is filled with a
raw, undeniable need that he can’t ignore…for a girl who is so completely
different from everything and everyone he’s ever known.
Only Brooke isn’t looking for love. She
knows all too well just how much damage the wrong guy can do. Still, what sane,
broke British girl can resist the charms of an incredibly sexy, chivalrous
billionaire? What starts as flirtation quickly turns into all-consuming
passion. Nothing could have prepared her for the searing heat of Caleb’s
touch—or just how much she craves him.
Their whirlwind romance is the stuff of
high-society fantasy—but for every moment of pleasure, there is a cost. Past
mistakes and tragedy shadow them both…and falling for him might be the kind of
trouble she can’t afford.
Excerpt
I would
give this thing two drinks max before I was outie.
Nodding
and saying the right things, I shook hands with the colleagues who’d known my
father and accepted condolences from others. I made a mental note of the people
who’d made the effort to mention his name to me, and I would write them down
with the event and date as soon as I got home.
I’d
worked my way through the room, as I had been taught by my dad—by the best to
ever work a roomful of potential deals—when I decided I’d accomplished what I’d
set out to do tonight. It was time for me to go. After setting my glass down on
an empty table, I started for the door . . . until I saw her.
Just like
that. She appeared in my line of sight and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
The
beautiful girl from this morning at the Starbucks on Hereford Street.
I knew it
was her because how could anyone forget those sexy boots? Her blonde hair
wasn’t down like it had been this morning, though. She’d pulled it back into a
sleek ponytail . . . but she was serving at this event? I’d seen her go into
that design studio next to Starbucks. She probably had two jobs. Industrious .
. . beautiful . . . sexy.
I quickly
returned for my half-empty glass and snatched it up from the table. I suddenly
felt like an appetizer or two.
She saw
me approaching and moved closer with her tray. “What are these called?” I asked
without sparing her tray a second glance. Bad move on my part, but I was too
busy taking in her golden eyes and hair, and everything else I could now see up
close. Perfect skin, dark lashes that framed spectacular eyes, and a scar along
the hairline of the right side of her face. Something had hurt her at some
point in the past, and I found it utterly insane that I was disturbed by it.
She
rolled her pink lips together as if she was trying to suppress laughter. “Well,
they’ve told me it’s something called a . . . meatball. Very unusual gourmet creation. You should try one.
They’re said to be quite delicious.”
That
voice of hers was . . . fucking beautiful.
“Okay.” I
picked up a meatball and popped it in my mouth. Didn’t taste a thing. I could
have been chewing slaughterhouse by-products and I wouldn’t have known. My
brain had shut off everything except her beautiful voice.
“You are
either messing with me or that blow to your head must have been devastating. I
would wager you’ve had a meatball before.”
“I am.”
She lost
her smile. “You are messing with me?”
“No, I am
devastating—I mean devastated—by the
blow to my head.” What in the mother fuck was I even saying to this girl? I
sounded like Rain Man minus the IQ. I needed to stop talking.
“I’m
sorry to hear that. It looks painful.”
“It
doesn’t hurt me now.” I think I smiled and shook my head but couldn’t be sure.
Just call me the village idiot because I knew I was acting like one. I did love
the sound of her voice, though.
“Another
rare and precious meatball?” She offered her tray and studied me this time. She
had to be disgusted by my appearance and turned off by my behavior, but she
didn’t show it if she was.
“Yes,
please.” I took another meatball but I didn’t eat it. “You are British.”
“You are
American,” she said with a fast wink, before turning away to serve other
guests.
I watched
her walk away from me and felt the pounding of my heart vibrating throughout my
entire body.
Something
had just happened to me.
I wasn’t
completely sure what exactly, but I was crystal clear on the reason.
Her.
About the
Author:
Raine
Miller has been reading romance novels since she picked up that first Barbara
Cartland book at the tender age of thirteen. And it's a safe bet she'll never
stop, because now she writes them too! Granted Raine's stories are edgy enough
to turn Ms. Cartland in her grave, but to her way of thinking, a hot, sexy hero
never goes out of fashion. A former teacher, she's now writing sexy romance
stories full time. She has a handsome prince of a husband, two brilliant sons,
and two bouncy Italian Greyhounds to pull her back into the real world if the
writing takes her too far away. Her sons know she likes to write stories, but
gratefully have never asked to read any, thank God!
Raine loves to hear from readers and to chat about the characters in her books. You can contact her at raine_miller@ymail.com or visit www.RaineMiller.com to sign up for updates and her newsletter with links to upcoming books. Join us on Facebook at the Raine Miller Romance Readers group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/raine_miller
Raine loves to hear from readers and to chat about the characters in her books. You can contact her at raine_miller@ymail.com or visit www.RaineMiller.com to sign up for updates and her newsletter with links to upcoming books. Join us on Facebook at the Raine Miller Romance Readers group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/raine_miller
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