One sentence changed my life:
"I dare you to f**k me."
It starts with an interview, but it ends up in bed.
That rich, gorgeous, reclusive bastard dares me to sleep with him.
But he wasn"t supposed to get me pregnant.
So I have to track him down to his mountain mansion to tell him the truth.
Except as soon as I get there, the snow starts falling.
And it doesn’t stop until we"re trapped together.
One week in his house, the only two people in the world.
Except for his baby, growing inside me.
I don"t think I can tell him.
But he wants me, and he"s going to have me.
One week of hiding this secret as he makes me feel things I never imagined.
His hands on my hips.
His lips against my throat.
I want more so badly, but something"s holding him back.
He has a dark past. There"s a reason he"s hiding out here.
He needs to know about the baby, but I want the truth about him first.
I"ll have to get down on my knees and ask very, very nicely.
I have to make him happy.
Give him everything he needs.
And then" he"ll give me what I want and much, much more.
Big Mountain Daddy is an over-the-top mountain exciting romance with tons of steamy scenes, some graphic violence, and bad language. It"s only recommended for readers 18+.
Big Mountain Daddy is a STANDALONE, full-length novel. No cliffhanger. Guaranteed HEA.Books by Author:B.B. Hamel Books
As soon as I walk into the hotel bar, I realize that I don"t know what Ethan Reid looks like.
Which is amazing, considering I"m supposed to be writing a profile about him. I know he"s in his late thirties, perpetually single, and very, very rich. He owns one of the largest lumber companies in the United States, and until recently, he was very involved in the day-to-day activities of that company.
And then two years ago, Ethan Reid disappeared.
Well, not exactly. He didn"t vanish. He still owns Reid Lumber, and he definitely still lives in Washington state somewhere. Nobody"s really sure where, including my boss, Murray Hunter. He"s an old friend of Ethan"s father, which is how we even got him to agree to do this profile. It"s strange, though, for a guy this obsessed with secrecy, you"d think he wouldn"t want anything written about him.
I chew on my lip and head over to the bar. I"m supposed to meet him here, although I"m a few minutes early. I order a drink to calm my nerves, a cranberry vodka, and I sip it as I look around the room.
Like most high-end New York hotels, this place is full of nondescript-looking business types. Suit, briefcase, fancy laptop, the whole thing. Some of them are drinking in groups, although there are a lot of guys drinking alone, and I realize that Ethan could be any one of them. I don"t know much about Ethan, except that he has something of a playboy reputation, or at least he used to, back before he disappeared. I did some research for this profile, like any good journalist would, but most of the information is dated.
There"s been nothing about him ever since he left the public eye. And weirdly enough, there aren"t any pictures of him from back before that. Normally that wouldn"t be so odd, but this guy is rich, although not exactly famous. Still, you"d think there"d be a single picture of him somewhere online, but no, I couldn"t find anything at all.
Which is annoying, since now I have to try and guess who he is. I sip my drink again, looking around, starting to get anxious. Ten minutes pass, and then another ten, and I"m slowly working up the nerve to approach one of the guys sitting alone by the windows when a new man walks into the room.
And instantly I know it"s him.
He scans the place and finally his eyes linger on me. I don"t look away from him and a small smile crosses his lips, just for a second, before vanishing. He walks over to me, head cocked.
"Mia Scott"" he asks.
I nod. "Ethan Reid." I stand up and we shake hands. "Glad you could make it."
"Anything for Murray," he says, sounding a little bitter.
"Please," I say, gesturing at the chair next to me. He sits down and orders a beer from the bartender.
I take a second to study him while he orders. I can see where the playboy reputation comes from: this guy is handsome as hell, by far the most attractive person in this bar, probably in this whole hotel. He"s easily over six foot, muscular but lean, with a close-cropped beard and piercing blue eyes. His lips are full and his hair is brushed back, though a little wild. He"s wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, the jeans faded and ripped, the flannel fraying along the edges and slightly dirty. He looks like he just came from working on a construction site, although I can tell his clothes were expensive once upon a time.
He looks at me, beer in hand, and he sighs. "Let"s get this over with."
That surprises me, but it shouldn"t, not really. This is a young, reclusive billionaire, after all. He doesn"t exactly want to be doing this profile.
"Let"s start with the easy stuff, if that"s okay""
He shrugs. "Go for it."
"Where were you born""
"What did your parents do""
"My mother was a physicist and my father was a writer."
"Interesting," I say. "How did you end up in the lumber business""
I watch him, hoping he"ll elaborate, but he just sips his beer.
"Can you tell me more"" I ask.
He sighs. "Can I be honest instead""
"Sure," I say, taken aback.
"I like Murray. He"s been around my family for as long as I can remember, and I"m only doing this as a favor to him. But really, I don"t want to talk about myself."
I stare at him for a second before laughing a little uncomfortably. "I mean, I"m writing a profile about your life. So I kind of need you to talk about yourself."
"Make it up," he says. "Better yet, read the crap that"s already floating around the internet, and pretend I told it all to you."
I gape at him. This guy can"t be serious" I"ve never had a person tell me just to make up the things they"ve said, especially when it comes to their life, and yet he"s staring at me with a perfectly serious expression.