Page 123 of Daring the Hockey Player
And now I can’t forgive her.
Arresting the Hockey Playeris the third book in the Ice Dragons series but can be read as a standalone. No cheating. No cliffhanger. HEA.
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Looking for your next hot read right now? Want a spicy billionaire romance featuring a grumpy single dad? Check out Billionaire Grump!
I am Levi Luxenberg. Forty-year-old billionaire. CEO of Luxenberg Enterprises. And apparently, father of one.
A week ago, having kids wasn’t even in my ten-year plan.
Now, I have a five-year-old daughter who will hardly look in my direction.
I am aware that Amelia is grieving her mother’s death, and I swear I’m not a complete jerk, but I jumped on a private jet to Chicago at a moment’s notice, and the kid won’t even say a word to me.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, our pilot just got sick and I have to fly commercial for the first time in years.
You’d think that would be the end of it, but no.
The cherry on top?
Amelia would rather interact with Clare, the divorced, jobless, tipsy woman sitting right in front of us, than me.
She chats with her, she smiles at her—she even draws her a freaking picture.
I would be really mad if I didn’t actually need a nanny. Urgently.
Since my assistant screwed my wanted ad over and made me look like a grumpy billionaire desperately looking for a wife, Clare suddenly seems perfect for the job.
She has no place to live, no idea who I am, and no qualms about being my live-in nanny on a trial basis.
The problem is, I think I might want to keep her around longer…
Here’s a sneak peek of Billionaire Grump.
* * *
Chapter One
Levi
“Grumpy Billionaire desperately seeks a nanny for his five-year-old daughter. Expect to work late nights, have no social life, lots of tears, and absolutely no alcohol, drugs, parties, or fun.”
That was the ad that went out this morning. My assistant, fed up with my shenanigans, decided to give me a taste of my own medicine. I can’t believe Nancy thought that’s what I wanted the ad to say, that I’m a billionaire. Is she trying to attract every gold digger?
I’ll admit that I haven’t always been kind to my assistant. She’s been required to field calls from previous dates, forced to tell them I’m not interested.
Is this her idea of payback?
“What?” I answer my phone. It’s my assistant.
“Did you get the text that your flight home has been canceled?”
“No,” I growl, and put Nancy on speakerphone while I open up my messages. There are dozens of messages and even more emails that have been ignored.
I’m a busy man, and I haven’t had time over the past forty-eight hours to deal with work.
I just discovered I’m a father, and the little girl was whisked into a temporary foster home after her mother died in an automobile accident.
