Enticing You (How to Marry a Billionaire #1) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors: Series: How to Marry a Billionaire Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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Brett smiles. “You’re probably better off for it. I never overindulge. None of us do.”

“Meaning the four of you?”

“Yeah. We’ve been friends forever. Since we were little kids.”

“Right.” I know all that of course. It’s in their bios.

“That’s not to say we didn’t tie one on when we were younger, but when you get serious about your life, you learn that moderation is the key to just about everything.”

“Even making money?” I clamp my hand over my mouth.

Don’t talk about money.

I just violated Evangeline’s number one guideline.

Leave it to me to stick my foot in my mouth, and I’ve only had one sip of champagne.

“Even making money,” he says. “If you don’t take care of your other needs, you burn out.”

I don’t understand what he’s getting at, but I don’t say so. The last thing I want is for him to realize I’m the least intelligent of the bunch.

Then it hits me.

Why I’m here.

Why we’re all here.

We’re here to take care of the “other needs.”

I don’t believe for one microsecond that Brett Dawson is interested in me for anything other than a fuck. Why would he be? He’s got seven other women to choose from who are just as attractive as I am and much more intelligent and worldly.

Clearly he gravitated toward me for one reason and one reason only.

He thinks I’m easy.

He’s about to learn I’m not.

I take another sip of the champagne. The bubbles dance over my tongue. “What other needs?” I ask.

“The biggest one is health. Physical, mental, and emotional health. If I’m not healthy, I can’t make money.”

Okay. Not what I was expecting.

“That makes sense.”

Of course it makes sense. Why am I stating the obvious? If I want him to see me as more than a tight body to fuck, I have to offer some intellectual stimulation.

If only his gaze weren’t turning me into a quivering mass of jelly.

He gives me a smoldering semi-smile. “That means I have to make time for exercise.”

“What kind of exercise do you do?”

“I run. Lift weights. Swim. What do you do to stay in such good shape?”

I roller skate eight hours a day and I have the metabolism of a teenage boy.

Nope. Not what he’s looking for.

In my mind, I go over the bio Evangeline wrote for me. Though it’s not nearly as impressive as the other women’s, she made me sound okay.

Ariel Lynne Tanner is a dynamic and driven twenty-two year old woman with a passion for life and a commitment to making the most of every opportunity. Though she wasn’t able to pursue higher education due to family obligations, she has worked hard to follow her dreams and create a fulfilling life for herself.

Currently, Ariel works as a server at a local restaurant where she dazzles customers with her cheerful smile and sense of humor. Not only does she excel at providing exceptional customer service, but she also takes pride in her ability to balance multiple orders and keep everything running smoothly during busy shifts.

Ariel stays in shape by roller skating and practicing yoga. She’s an avid reader, and she also enjoys volunteering at her local animal shelter, where she devotes her time and energy to helping animals in need.

Ariel eventually hopes to return to school to study biology and fulfill her lifelong dream of becoming a veterinarian.

“Yoga,” I say.

“Right. I remember that from your bio. What kind of yoga do you practice?”

Evangeline added yoga to my bio after I told her I watched a few videos. My love of Cosmo and gossip sites made me an “avid reader.” I do volunteer at the local shelter, so Evangeline transformed my love of animals into a dream of becoming a vet.

Yeah, she’s good.

Doesn’t change the fact that I can’t answer Brett’s question. I can’t even pull out my phone and do a search for different types of yoga. No phones tonight. No distractions.

I’m sunk.

Nothing to do but admit defeat.

“I don’t do yoga,” I say.

“But you just said⁠—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I know what I said. I know what my bio says. It’s all bullshit, Mr. Dawson. Complete bullshit.”

“Ariel—”

I rise. “You’re an amazing man, Mr. Dawson. Take my advice. Talk to the other women here. They’re all in your league. I’m not.” I turn and walk away. Already, tears are welling in the bottom of my eyes.

I increase my pace. I have to make it into the mansion before anyone stops me. I can’t cry out here. I just can’t.

The French doors are coming closer, closer, closer…

I reach for the brass and crystal doorknob⁠—

A strong hand grips my shoulder. “Ariel.”

No. Not that voice that makes my thighs quiver.

I close my eyes, will back the tears. “What?” I say without turning.

“I’m sorry.”

I drop my jaw. He’s sorry? Brett hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m the culprit here. I’m the person who misrepresented herself to four billionaires. Granted, I had some help in the form of Evangeline, but I could have backed out at any time.


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