The Playboy: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Billionaires of Club Tempest) by Sloane Hunter

Author:Sloane Hunter [Hunter, Sloane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Stockton Publishing
Published: 2020-12-24T18:00:00+00:00

14

Claire

Two dates in two weeks? This was a busy month for me. Typically one date in one year was impressive. How was it that life could move so slowly for so long and then, like a lazy river hitting rapids, rip me from the mundane and fling me about in a sudden torrent of attraction, confusion, and anticipation?

That was how I felt following Twain out of the familiar safety of the daycare and into a world that was all his own. My predictable life had turned on its head the moment he barged through my door. This strange, spontaneous man was disrupting everything I’d previously known.

Twain’s similarities to Brock started and ended with his car. Sitting outside the daycare was a Cadillac in red. While Brock’s had reeked of the status-seeking, social-climbing I found so distasteful in this city, I knew Twain well enough to know those thoughts didn’t even occur to him. His car wasn’t the latest model, but a restored classic from the ‘60s. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much it must have cost him, let alone the expenses of owning one in the city. But it was Twain, and he didn’t need to worry about anything like that.

Twain slipped a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes and looked back at me, flashing that cocked grin. “Hope you’re ready for this, darling,” he said, pulling the passenger’s door open for me and leaning on it as I got in. As I settled into the buttery leather seats, I looked up into my own face reflected twice in the lenses.

“Promise I’ll get back in one piece?” I asked.

Twain appeared to consider it and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. My lawyer told me never to guarantee that. Easier to fight in court later.” He snapped the door shut on my bewildered face. He jogged around the back and hopped in the driver’s side.

“Okay, no,” I said firmly as he twisted the keys in the ignition, firing the car into a rumbling purr. “I’ll get out right now. Promise me nothing dangerous is going to happen.”

“Define ‘dangerous’.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Fine.” Twain placed a hand over his heart, dipped his sunglasses to reveal his startling blue eyes, and looked deep into my own. “I swear, Claire, on everything that is sacred to me, that you will be completely unharmed by our date. Believe it or not, you’re in excellent hands.”

I fought a smile and failed. “It’s not a date,” I corrected him.

“Oh yeah?” Twain asked, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the street. “Than what would you call it?”

“Blackmail?” I tried.

“Blackmail!” he repeated, aghast. “I’d never blackmail you. Coerce, needle, and apparently sell off my prized possessions though…”

I snorted. “Prized possessions, huh? In a box marked ‘crap’? Do you keep your birth certificate in your junk drawer?”

“Not sure I have one of those.”

“If I have a birth certificate, you definitely have one.”

“I think my mom had me in our third floor bathtub. Do they give

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