(Escorting the Billionaire #1)
Publication date: April 30th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
Love don’t cost a thing…except everything.
When billionaire mogul James Preston hires an escort as a date for his brother’s wedding, he knows he’s taking a risk. One thing he won’t be taking? The escort’s clothes off. He just wants a date—not a girlfriend. Not a relationship. No strings. No ties. No games. No sex. He has his reasons. He lost someone he loved, and isn’t interested in trying again. Too many opportunities for mistakes or worse, heartbreak.
Audrey Reynolds became a high-end escort to keep her brother in his expensive group home. James Preston is the client of her dreams—he’s offering to pay her more money for two weeks than she’s ever made before. But James is…difficult. He’s gorgeous, troubled and all too human for Audrey’s business-like tastes. Determined to complete her assignment and collect the money, Audrey tries to play by James’s rules. But before she knows what’s happening, he’s rewriting the contract.
When Audrey ends up in James’s bed, he realizes that she’s everything he’s wanted…and everything he’s been running from.
This is PART ONE of the Escorting the Billionaire New Adult romance trilogy. It is novella-length (30,000 words) and has a wicked cliffhanger.
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He gave me a small smile; behind it, I thought I saw his temples pulse. He was stressed. I reached for his hand again and squeezed it. “Let’s go have a drink,” I said.
“Let’s stay drunk for the next two weeks,” he said and led me through the door.
Then maybe we’ll end up in bed, I thought, ignoring the clench of desire that tore through me at the thought. I looked at James as we walked through the door: tall, steel-grey hair, powerful shoulders, a square-cut chin. He was expensive looking.
He was also totally clench-worthy.
I heard him suck in his breath as he took in the restaurant; it was wall-to-wall fancy people, probably all related to him in one way or another. I suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing cubic zirconia. A waspy-looking woman with a white-blond bob was already heading for us. She was wearing a classic Chanel pink suit and a string of pearls.
“Is that your mom?” I asked James through the fake smile I’d plastered on.
“Yep.”
“She’s petrifying,” I said.
“Absofuckinglutely,” he said, and I saw that he’d plastered on a smile, too.
She reached us before we were ready for her, before we’d even had a chance to catch our breath.
“James,” she said, reaching out and giving him a hug, careful not to get makeup on his suit coat.
“Mother,” he said, and he did not sound friendly, even though the fake smile was still in place. He pulled pack and grabbed my hand. “This is Audrey Reynolds.”
“Mrs. Preston,” I said, holding out my hand to her.
She didn’t take it. Instead, she looked me up and down, and looked back at James. “Very nice, James. Very nice.” She turned back to me and beamed. I could almost hear her buzzing, a bundle of sharp edges, nerves, and plans.
She finally took my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Audrey,” she said. “James never lets us meet his girlfriends. It’s lovely to see that you not only exist, but that you aren’t designed to embarrass his family.”
I looked at her, shocked and wondering what she meant by that. I shook her hand limply. I noted that my plastered-on smile was intact; if the rest of his family was this bad, I was going to need a steady supply of alcohol to keep it in place.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things,” I said.
“Oh, nonsense. You don’t need to bother with that, dear—I know what my son really thinks of me,” she said without bothering to look offended.
“Enough,” James said. He sounded defeated, and we’d been here for less than five minutes. “Let Audrey at least think we’re civilized for the first night. Can you show us to the bar? And where’s Dad? And Todd and his bitch-ass fiancée?”
Mrs. Preston stopped inspecting me and turned to him with a glare. It must have been the way she normally looked at him—her face relaxed into it. “You watch your mouth, James. And here’s a waiter—be sure to take your medicine. Just make sure it’s not the kind that has you hurling the c-word, or any other of your trash talk, at your new sister-in-law.”
“Yes, ma’am,” James said.
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to me. “You better order a double, young lady,” she said, nodding her head toward her son. “You’re going to need it.”
Meet the Leigh
She is a magna cum laude graduate of the University of New Hampshire's Journalism program and earned her J.D. from Suffolk University School of Law in Boston.
She lives with her husband and children in New Hampshire.
Join my mailing list at www.leighjamesbooks.com.
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