Three cheers for the release of Tara Leigh’s DEAL BREAKER! Follow the tour as we share reviews, excerpts and get readers take on the swoon-worthy Nash Knight! Plus enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card and three runner-up’s will win a digital copy of book one in the Billionaire Bosses series, PENTHOUSE PLAYER.
Nash is Wall Street, Nixie is Williamsburg. In DEAL BREAKER, the next standalone installment of Tara Leigh’s Billionaire Bosses series, these two opposites definitely attract. When lust becomes love, will their untamed emotions be a deal breaker? Fans of Keeland and Ward’s STUCK UP SUIT and Lauren Blakely’s MOST VALUABLE PLAYBOY will devour this smart and steamy marriage of convenience romance.
Title: Deal Breaker
Author: Tara Leigh
Release Date: November 14, 2017
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press, SWERVE
Series: Billionaire Bosses #2
Nixie Rowland is having a bad day. Rushing home to drown her sorrows in ice cream and reality television, she decides to take a shortcut to the subway where things take a turn for the worst. But Nixie’s bad luck doesn’t end there—the white knight who comes to her rescue is none other than the Dark Knight of Wall Street, a cocky Manhattan mogul whose ego barely fits inside his penthouse. To her horror, Nixie discovers the sizzling attraction between them is off the charts, and rising fast. Spending the night in his bed does nothing to lower the heat… And everything to set her heart on fire.
Nash Knight doesn’t have room in his life, or his heart, for anything beyond one-night stands or casual flings. And he certainly doesn’t make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress. Except that this particular damsel slips beneath his armor, the vulnerability she covers with a false show of bravado hitting him somewhere deep. Nixie is everything he never wanted… And exactly what he needs.
With Nixie on the run from a controlling ex, and Nash trying to salvage a business deal at risk because his conquests in the bedroom are overshadowing his wins in the boardroom, there’s one simple solution for them both: a marriage in name only. But when lust becomes love, will their untamed emotions be a deal breaker?
More about the Billionaire Bosses series:
This series offers a passionate peek into the tumultuous world of New York’s most beautiful bankers. Stocks and bonds aren’t the only commodities traded on Wall Street. Money, power, prestige, sex—they’re all available to the highest bidder. Each book in the series will feature sexy scions of Manhattan moguls struggling to find love and success on their own terms.
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DEAL BREAKER Excerpts
Copyright © 2017 Tara Leigh
“Can I have my clothes now?” My throat was so tight, each word emerged strangled.
No? I’d swallowed my pride to sound appreciative, practically begging for my clothes back, and he had the gall to say no? Who the hell did this guy think he was?
Beneath the covers, an indignant shiver trembled through me. I couldn’t see much in the dark room, but I assumed he was the same man who’d come running into the alley last night. The memory of him was permanently ingrained in my brain. Tall, at least a foot taller than me, with close cropped dark hair and olive skin. Pale green eyes that sat above high cheekbones, fringed by long eyelashes that didn’t soften his hard edges one bit. “Listen, if you’re expecting some kind of open-armed, grateful—”
“From you?” He made a noise that sounded like a snort. “I’m getting the feeling you don’t do grateful.”
I winced, taken aback by the blunt honesty of his observation. “I never asked you to come running into the alley after me.”
“So you’re not glad I did?”
With my track record, of course I wouldn’t wind up with a run-of-the-mill good samaritan. No, instead I fell into the hands of a cocky jerk with extra time on his hands, looking for an appreciative female to stroke his ego. “How do you know I wouldn’t have been just fine on my own?”
“You’re right. I don’t.” His swift capitulation surprised me, and I sagged back against the pillow. “Next time you have your head in the clouds and don’t notice two thugs hot on your tail, looking to rob or rape you, probably both, I’ll let you take your chances.”
“Fine. All hail the conquering hero. Happy now?”
“Are you admitting that you needed my help?”
So damned smug. “Listen, we can debate my self-defense capabilities all day—”
“Night. It’s the middle of the night.”
“Whatever. All night, all day. There’s no difference. What I’m trying to say—”
The arrogant man with a white knight complex interrupted me again. “Actually, there is a difference. The difference is—it’s nighttime, and you’re in my bed getting all hot and bothered about nonsense. Either go to sleep, or we might as well channel your energy into something more productive.”
I snapped my sagging jaw shut, feeling a rush of heat between my thighs that rivaled my burning knife wound. Jeez, Nixie. Get a grip. This guy is clearly an asshole and you are not an asshole magnet.
His low chuckle sent the hair at the back of my neck standing on end. “So that’s what it takes, huh? You know, most women would consider sex with me to be more of a bonus than a threat.”
Jesus, this guy had quite a set of balls on him. “Don’t flatter yourself, big shot. You could have called nine-one-one. Or dropped me off at the nearest hospital. I’m in your bed because you brought me here. And now I want to leave.”
“Do you need help?”
“No,” I grumbled, struggling to free my hands so I could button the damn thing. But it was no use. After a minute of trying, I gave up, defeated by the swath of starched cotton engulfing my fingertips. So much for pushing through the pain. I sighed. “Yes.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
I looked up, getting lost in mischievous eyes that had to be evidence of a snarky leprechaun residing somewhere inside his brawny exterior. “Yes.” I swallowed. “Please.”
He gave a satisfied nod and folded the cuffs back, several times, until I could see my wrists. Pulling the two sides together, he blew out a sigh and began fastening the buttons. “This isn’t as much fun as the other way around.” I held my breath as his hands hovered over my breasts, the sight of his long, nimble fingers throwing my stomach into somersaults. Once he’d finished, he stepped away and jerked his head to the right. “The bathroom is just down there.”
“’Kay.” If I could have given my bladder to him, I would have. With the painkiller slipping through my bloodstream, I pushed my legs out from under the covers and slowly scooted myself toward the edge of the mattress.
He stood back a respectful distance as I hoisted myself upright, but was at my side the instant I swayed on my feet. “I gotcha.”
One muscled arm wrapped around me, hugging me into his side. I barely reached his shoulder. “I should probably know your name.”
“You’re right, you should.”
I blinked. “And?”
“Oh, was that you actually asking my name? I couldn’t tell.”
A flush started at my chest and rose above the stiff white collar of his shirt. Was I getting etiquette lessons now? “Well then, Sam it is.”
He sighed. “Nash. My name’s Nash.”
“Nice to meet you, Nash.”
“Good to meet you too, Nixie.” I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of our conversation. I was wearing his shirt, leaning on his arm as he walked me to the bathroom. On paper, we sounded like a geriatric couple. Until I realized what he’d said and stopped moving forward, my feet suddenly rooted to the ground. “How do you know my name?”
He didn’t have the grace to look chagrined in the slightest. “Because that’s what it said on your student ID.”
“You rifled through my clothes?”
“No, I did not rifle. I emptied your pockets before throwing your jeans in the wash. It’s been a while since I’ve done my own laundry, but I remember that much.”
My mind caught on the sliver of information Nash had let slip. Who did his laundry? A girlfriend? Wife? None of your business, Nixie. “So what, did you do a Google search on me, too?”
This time, a tiny flicker of guilt crossed his too-damn-handsome-for-words face. “Oh my god—you did!” I turned slightly, so that I was facing him.
Nash’s jaw clenched as he stared down at me, sending a shiver down my spine. “I did.” I swayed within his embrace at the gritty tone of his voice. The tips of my breasts brushed against his shirt, and they puckered immediately. Of course he noticed, the corner of his mouth pulling upward. Damn the man. “Want to know what I found?”
The breath punched from my lungs. What did he find? I’d worked so hard to cover my tracks. My mind raced. If all it took was one Google search to—
“Nothing. I found nothing.”
I sagged in relief. Thank god. “Exactly. It was a waste of your time.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What are your boundaries?”
Good question. “Well, I would have said going home with a stranger and spending the night in his bed was a boundary.”
Another chuckle caressed my eardrum like the softest patch of velvet. “Probably a good one to have.”
“How about you?”
“Same as yours, apparently. I don’t bring strangers home to my bed, either.”
Really? “Not a one-night stand kind of guy?” As soon as the casual question left my mouth, I wanted to chase after it and stuff every last word back down my throat. I didn’t want to know a single detail about Nash’s sex life.
“Actually, I prefer them. Just not in my own bed.”
Not fair. Now I needed to know more. “So, you only go back to their place? What if your one-night woman has a roommate?”
“Oh, I don’t go back to their place either. Too personal.”
I was stumped. “Where—? Ew. Please don’t tell me I was just driven home in your mobile bachelor pad.”
This time Nash’s laugh was more like a bark. Nice, but I still preferred his throaty chuckle. “Of course not. I keep a suite at the Ritz-Carlton, downtown.”
“That gorgeous apartment of yours and you rent a hotel room?”
“It’s a suite. And it’s just as nice, I assure you. Would you like to see it? I can take you there tonight, after our dinner.”
“We’re not having dinner. And I’m not going to be your next one-night stand, either.”
“Why not?” Nash’s question was nonchalant, as if arranging for sex was no more important than meeting up for a quick cup of coffee.
“Why don’t I want to be the next notch on your bedpost? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“No notches, although I won’t judge if you want to make one.”
I sighed. “Nash, why are you pushing this? I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not your type.” His silence spoke volumes. “Right?” I pressed, needing verbal confirmation.
“How do you know that?” A stubborn edge underlined his question.
“How many women have you slept with in the past year?”
He laughed again, more of a chortle this time. I might have to start cataloguing all the different varieties he exhibited. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Okay then. In the past six months?”
“Nixie, come on.”
“Fine. New question. Can you name all the women you’ve slept with in the past month?”
There was a part of me that was cheering Nash on, hoping he wasn’t as big of a manwhore as I thought he was. But as the silence stretched on, I was forced to put down my pom-poms. “See, that’s why. I might not be looking for a relationship right now, but I don’t fill my nights with disposable men, either.”
Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card + (3) Digital Copies of PENTHOUSE PLAYER
About Tara Leigh:
Tara Leigh attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children and fur-baby, Pixie.