Shopping for an Heir (Book 10 in the Shopping series)
Author: Julia Kent
Release date: September 20, 2016
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance
Gerald Wright works for billionaires. He never imagined he’d become one.
The former Navy Seal is a chauffeur by day, artist by night, so when hotter-than-ever ex-fiancée Suzanne Dayton interrupts his nude model sculpting class to serve him with inheritance paperwork from a man he’s never heard of, he assumes it’s a joke.
Turns out the joke’s on him. There’s just one catch. A big one.
And it might be Suzanne — in more ways than he ever dreamed.
Shopping for an Heir is the 10th book in the New York Times bestselling Shopping for a Billionaire series by Julia Kent.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/29ZkKTg
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2a3mXRh
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/29IQds1
Amazon Australia: http://amzn.to/29JqH84
Google Play: http://bit.ly/29MNgdk
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down
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“I can do this,” Suzanne Dayton muttered under her breath, standing outside the decrepit arts center, pacing back and forth, trying desperately to find her old military voice. More than ten years out of the Navy after a two-year stint, and that world was like a different lifetime. Three years of law school and seven years as a practicing attorney—now a full partner at one of Boston’s best firms—and here she was, trembling with anxiety at the thought of walking into a nude sculpting class.
The nude part? No problem.
The class part? No problem.
The instructor? Big problem.
And what she needed to deliver to him?
“Oh, God,” she groaned. “How did my life come to this?”
A flash of movement under a streetlight in the distance, at the nearest light, caught Gerald’s eye.
Sprinting, he left Declan befuddled, calling out his name, until the light changed and he watched as Suzanne marched forward with that confident walk of hers, shoulders squared as if she were still in morning formation and wore a uniform, wiping her mouth with a tissue and muttering to herself. He knew how the curve of her spine felt under his palms when she stood like that, the supple feel of the paradox between soft skin and hard bone a delightful feast for his fingers.
“Wait!” he called out, unsure and unbidden, moving on pure instinct. He needed to touch her. Would die without making that single, simple connection. Not just in an intimate sense. The need was more than that.
Suzanne got to the curb and stopped. She did not turn around, her body poised, waiting.
Panting with the burst of exertion, his brain firing on all cylinders, he caught up to her and slowed down at the last steps, moving to her, pulled by a force that drew him in. His front settled against her back, his tight cotton t-shirt brushing against the thin linen jacket she wore, the friction erotic and full, sensual.
As his palms touched her elbows, her arms at her side, he inhaled with precision, measuring her.
She did not move.
“Suzanne,” he murmured, chin close to a stray hair that curled out from her updo, resting against the fine, creamy line of her neck. With longer hair, the sharp, jutting bones of her jaw stood out, giving her the look of a Viking princess. In heels, she was exactly his height, setting him off-kilter. He wasn’t a short man. In fatigues she was always four to five inches shorter. In service dress, her shoes gave her a two-inch lift.
He liked being equal. Liked it a lot.
“Please,” she whispered, the word spiraling off into the dark night, as if the street lights beyond them were pulling her voice to them.
Taking her reaction as something other than rejection, he left his hands where they were, closing the inch gap between them. She was cool and regal, his hot, thick chest pressing into her back.
“Please what?” he asked, knowing this could go either way, but not caring, because right now—as each second ticked by—he had more internal calm than he’d had in ten years.
Even as desire burned bright inside him.
“Don’t what?” Tempted to step back, he held strong. Her please carried a weight to it, a meaning he needed to discern before acting. All impulse and no analysis would end this in a flash. Time was his friend. Patience.
He had to go against instinct.
“Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”
Gerald Wright works for billionaires. He never thought he'd become one. Preorder the new Shopping book @ibooks http://apple.co/29Y5yq0
Billionaire Declan McCormick as a nude art class model? ONE CLICK! @amazonkindle http://amzn.to/29ZkKTg
Gerald works for billionaires. He never thought he’d *become* one. A second chance romance @kobo http://bit.ly/2afregI
Hot ex-Navy Seal reunites with his ex as they solve a mystery and he inherits more than he expected @nookbn http://bit.ly/29DaZZv
Gerald Wright gets the shock of his life when his ex delivers a startling inheritance letter: http://bit.ly/29MNgdk @googleplay
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