The Big Bad Wolfe of Wall Street by Lauren Layne
Thanks so much for having me at Reading Between the Wines! My current book is HOT ASSET, the start of my 21 Wall Street series, featuring three high-powered investment brokers working in New York City, who have their playboy lifestyles turned upside down by smart, sassy women. Book one is about Ian Bradley, a dedicated bachelor who finds himself wrongly accused of insider trading, only to fall … for the woman doing the accusing.
Ian’s an investment broker, which means he deals with millions and millions of dollars, much of which finds its way to his own bank account. Which is a good thing, until it’s not! Getting accused of insider trading is nightmare for the men and women of Wall Street, especially when it’s not true, as is the case with Ian. He’s worked so hard to get where he is in his career, it’s devastating to have it implied that he got there illegally. Even more devastating to realize he’s attracted to the very woman doing the accusing!
Of all the heroes I’ve written, Ian is the one who should most come with a warning label. He’s the type of guy that truly never intends to sleep with the same woman twice. Ever. Half the time, he’s that dog that can’t even remember a woman’s name! As a foster kid, he’s literally never had a single example in his life of a healthy romantic relationship, and it doesn’t even occur to him that it’s possible! Unfortunately for the women of New York, he’s also extremely charming, accustomed to getting what he wants, and thus … the worst kind of heartbreaker!
Please enjoy this excerpt from HOT ASSET to get heroine Lara McKenzie's first impression of Ian aka the "Wolfe" of Wallstreet:
Statistically speaking, Ian’s probably every bit as guilty of insider trading as our source claims. He’s one of the biggest names at one of the biggest investment firms. That means the most money. The most money means the most to lose . . . and the most to win. Which means the most temptation to cheat.
Ian’s also exactly what I’d expected. The guy’s pic on the company website is pretty much the stock photo equivalent of a Wall Street broker—expensive haircut, expensive teeth, expensive suit, expensive tan.
In person, he was even more . . .
Well, he was just . . . too much. Too tall. Too charming. Too masculine.
Also . . . gorgeous. Really, ridiculously, hurts your eyes gorgeous.
But he knows it.
Even if I hadn’t been investigating the guy, I’d have dodged his come-ons. Guys like that just aren’t for me. I don’t have the patience for their flash and dazzle and strutting, and they don’t have time for my rules and structure.
So is Ian Bradley hot? Yes. Very. But I don’t need hot. I’d settle for someone a little plain, even a little boring, just so long as he’s loyal. Someone who won’t mind when I geek out over a new case at work or spend my Saturdays updating my Quantico application.
Professional life first, personal after. It’s a little pact I’ve made with myself since acknowledging that apparently I’m incapable of juggling both.
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