Reader's Edyn: Blitz: Marrying My Billionaire Hookup by Nadia Lee + GIVEAWAY

**Marrying My Billionaire Hookup by Nadia Lee**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! Today we have another new author to share with you all. Well, new to me, at least. I just love discovering new authors and their work! Please allow me to feature on the blog Nadia Lee and her latest release, MARRYING MY BILLIONAIRE HOOKUP … Plus, a GIVEAWAY!

**NADIA LEE**

**BIO**

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.

Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she's not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.

To find out more about Ms. Lee, please visit:

**MARRYING MY BILLIONAIRE HOOKUP**

Publication date: September 12^th, 2020

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

**BLURB**

If any of my over-protective brothers ask, I’m pregnant via immaculate conception. Otherwise, the baby I’m carrying could be the death of one hot billionaire…

After a succession of relationships bad enough to set a Guinness World Record, running into a ruggedly handsome billionaire feels like a sign. Edgar is from out of town, mesmerizing, and his voice reminds me of Louisiana heat. Just listening to him makes my toes curl. So I throw aside all caution and spend the hottest night of my life in his bed, knowing we’ll never see each other again.

Until a positive pregnancy test brings him back into my life. And now he only wants to marry me to do right by the baby, but here’s the thing…

I’ll never settle. I want what my parents have: true love. Nothing — not even the electric chemistry that crackles every time Edgar and I are together — will deter me from that goal.

Edgar

Love is like alcohol. It destroys clarity and impairs judgment. I’ve seen my parents making one bad decision after another in the name of love, destroying our family.

But Jo wants love before she’ll marry me. So I’ll approximate it. Unlike my father, I’ll make sure my child knows she’s cherished (contrary to what Jo thinks, I know it’s a girl). I’m too sensible to fall in love and disrupt my already well-ordered life, even though every second I spend with her feels like skydiving without a parachute…

**EXCERPT**

At the main door, I run into Yuna Hae, the party’s hostess. Her auburn hair is down, and she is in the cutest Chanel dress and shoes. I’ve never seen her look or dress badly—not that I’ve known her for long—and nothing hides her bubbly personality.

She hugs me. “Hey, you made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” I say, hugging her back. “Is Kim here yet?”

“Nope. She’s being fashionably late, no doubt. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to hang out and have fun! Come on, let me introduce you to some people.” She gestures, pulling me toward the center of the foyer. “You have no idea how thrilled I am because all of my favorite people are here, even Edgar.”

“Edgar?”

“Edgar Blackwood. Tony’s older brother. He spends almost all his time running the family business in Louisiana, you know. But I bet he wanted the special treat I prepared!” She waggles her eyebrows.

“A special treat? Like…a cake or something?”

“Oh, you’ll be amazed. It’s awesome.” She taps the back of a tall, dark-haired man. He’s talking with someone, but he turns around, green eyes sharp with interest.

I recognize him instantly. Anthony Blackwood. He’s pretty famous—and infamous—and not only due to his family scandal. He owns some of the best and most popular clubs in the world, including Z here in L.A.

He doesn’t seem as cold as his reputation would suggest, although he’s just as well dressed as the pictures I’ve seen. He’s very handsome, his features finely carved. If it weren’t for the firm lines of his lips and jaw, he’d be pretty.

“Tony, say hello to my friend, Jo Martinez. Jo, Anthony Blackwood.”

He shakes my hand firmly. “Anthony. Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” I say.

“Ivy’s talked about you. She always appreciates your help.”

My smile grows more genuine. “She’s so lovely.” It’s true. She’s one of the nicest people to work for.

“Have you met my brother?” He gestures at the man he was talking with, who comes half a step closer.

Anthony is certainly handsome enough, but his brother is…

Wow.

Normally I think clothes make the man, wielding the presence he needs if they have the right combination of color, material and cut. But in this case, clothes seem to be an afterthought. He’s tall, with magnificently broad shoulders that signal power and dominance. He stands with perfect posture, his back straight, his head angled just so to show the bold lines of his facial bones. His features aren’t as elegantly carved as Anthony’s, but there’s rawness to them that’s utterly masculine and hot. And his eyes… They’re green like Anthony’s, but different. Darker, deeper and completely controlled without being cold.

I wonder what they’d look like when they aren’t so controlled…

Suddenly, the place feels too hot.

My “no” to Anthony’s question comes out a near-breathless whisper. I clear my throat and add, “I don’t believe so,” then extend my hand. “Jo Martinez.”

“Edgar,” he says, with a hint of a Southern drawl. “Edgar Blackwood.” Dios mío, that voice that should be illegal. It brushes over me, as decadent as velvet, and I suppress a shiver as sensation seems to pool between my legs. How in the world is he making his name sound like my dirtiest fantasy? My grandmother would say he’s sold his soul to the devil.

He takes my hand in a soft fingers-only grip and gently pumps it twice. The contact sends a tingle up my arm, making my neck heat.

“Charmed,” he says.

“Ooh, how nice. Is that what Louisiana gentlemen say when they meet a lady?”

The green eyes crinkle slightly. “Depends on the lady.”

Oh my God. I bet tons of women sigh over him and make fools of themselves. I don’t want to be a cliché he won’t even remember two seconds from now.

But then I feel it… The soft, slow drag of his fingertips as though he loathes to let me go. And although he’s looking at me calmly enough, I can see a glimmer of heat in his eyes.

So this is a two-way street. And I can see that he knows it. We share a moment that Anthony and Yuna are not privy to, even though they’re standing right beside us.

Solemn and somber is not my type. Usually I date men who are easygoing and don’t take themselves or anyone else too seriously.

But maybe he just takes his responsibilities seriously. If I remember correctly, he’s the eldest Blackwood brother. Rafael acts like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, so that makes sense. I wonder what Edgar’s like in bed. Is he still serious, even when he’s naked and hard? Does he direct all that serious attention to licking and stroking and fucking?

I try to tamp down a vivid mental movie of Edgar doing exactly that, but desire sparks anyway. I don’t get it. I’m not the type to mind-strip a man I just met and fantasize about him. I’ve had plenty of hot male clients, and none of them made my hormones spin out of control.

“Would you like to get a drink?” he says, holding my eyes.

If you ask me in that voice, the answer will always be…

“Yes.”

I blink again. Why does Edgar keep popping up where he’s not supposed to? Did he put a tracker on me? How else would he know where I am? And why is he dressed in a pinstriped navy three-piece Brioni suit, like he’s a law firm partner ready to face a particularly difficult jury? Manny’s Tacos isn’t the kind of place where you put on a fifteen-thousand-dollar suit, no matter how delicious it makes you look.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“To do the right thing,” he answers calmly.

Papa clears his throat. Disapproval twists his lips. His gaze moves back and forth between me and Edgar like he’s debating which one of two naughty school kids he ought to give a tongue lashing to first. “Is this the fiancé?”

“No,” I say quickly.

Edgar frowns at me.

I tilt my chin belligerently. He can frown until he gets permanent wrinkles, but I have to do this, at least until Papa retires. To make up for it, I’ll refer Edgar to a great cosmetic dermatologist in the city who specializes in filler and Botox.

“Then who is he?” Pablo asks.

This time, Edgar speaks before I can. “I’m the father of her baby.”

A jolt goes through my family and relatives. He might as well have thrown a live wire into a swimming pool. Everyone’s face turns red and furious in unison, except for Angel and Hugo. Angel has already accepted that I occasionally have sex. The only thing he asked me is to not get pregnant by a guy I don’t like, and if somebody mistreats me, to let him know so he can shove the guy’s leg up his ass. As for Hugo…

Well. He’s the one who told Edgar about the baby. And he looks contented and pleased.

After a lot of huffing and other miscellaneous sounds of outrage from the family, Rafael finally says, “Jo? Pregnant? Ridiculous! Jo’s a virgin!”

“Yeah,” Pablo says with aggression more suited for a pit bull that had its favorite treat stolen than a cartoon-tie-wearing pediatric cardiologist. “Total slander. Jo’s not that kind of girl.”

My cousins all nod, even Hugo. What the hell… He’s so ridiculous. They all are.

I take a glance at Edgar. He’s watching them all with impassive green eyes. Underneath the calm mask, he’s likely rolling those eyes. Or even sneering the way the born-rich do when they’re confronted with what they believe to be time-wasting foolishness.

Flee, Edgar! My cousins and brothers are crazy, so flee!

Papa looks sternly at Edgar. “How do you explain this, young man?”

Edgar grows as serious as a bishop about to announce that without penance there can be no salvation. “Immaculate conception with my sperm.”

I gape at Edgar. Hugo has a coughing fit. I can’t decide if Edgar is joking or serious, like when he offered to put on a dress to join me and the girls at the bar.

My parents and uncle and aunt look vaguely impressed—although it’s hard to tell if they’re impressed with Edgar’s solemn delivery or his balls. Regardless, I can see the room swaying in Edgar’s favor. He has an ability to make people think that his way is not only sound but inevitable. It must be the solid, rocklike quality he radiates. You can’t argue or be flexible with rocks.

Suddenly, Angel says, “What makes you think you’re good enough for her?”

The hostile question seems to break the spell, making everyone start, including me. I’m curious what Edgar will say.

“I thought Jo said he wasn’t her fiancé,” Tía Bea says.

“But he’s the father of her baby. Who else is she going to marry?” Tío Manny says.

“Exactly!” Hugo says with near desperation. “Let’s talk about the baby!”

A desire to strangle Hugo and the need to put hands over my ears and pretend I’m not here tug at me from opposite directions.

“Imagine!” Hugo continues. “The first grandchild! So exciting!”

“Not right now,” Papa says. “The baby isn’t going anywhere, but the fiancé situation is convoluted.”

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