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Billionaires Prefer Blondes

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Overview

Samantha Jellicoe has never met a security camera she couldn't disarm. And even though she's promised her billionaire lover, the irresistible Richard Addison, to walk the straight and narrow, she certainly can't help it when trouble finds her. What should have been a quiet night at an auction house turns into something more unexpected when Sam spies her father-;her dead father-;very much alive and very interested in a painting Rick is after. Then the painting vanishes, Sam's arrested, and all hell breaks loose. Now Sam has to track down the man who taught her everything she knows about breaking and entering. And when she finds him, will his proposal for a lucrative heist tempt her to the dark side, or does Rick have a few tricks to keep her on the right side of a jail cell?

Editorial Reviews

Fans of contemporary romantic capers will eat up the third tale of retired cat burglar Samantha Jellicoe and her British billionaire boyfriend, Rick Addison (following Don't Look Down), who continue to steam up the windows of Rick's posh, Upper East Side New York City townhouse, where Sam has recently begun living. Between sexcapades, the odd couple find themselves in a sticky situation. While Rick wins a prized Hogarth painting at a Sotheby's auction, Samantha spies her father, Martin, "the grand master Jedi of cat burglars"-who's meant to have been dead for three years-lurking in the shadows. Not quite coincidentally, the Hogarth disappears from Rick's townhouse shortly thereafter. When Sam finally catches up with Martin, he has a proposition for her: a piece of the biggest heist he's ever pulled. The only problem is that Martin's working for Interpol, the heist is a setup, and the crew's muscle, Veittsreig, won't take no for an answer. Protective, straight-arrow Rick, unable to keep her out of trouble, decides to tag along for the crime, getting an intimate look at Sam's impressive extralegal skills. Much heavy-breathing sex and suspense follows, making this a winning continuation of a funny, frisky series. (Nov.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.

Author Information

Bio of Suzanne Enoch

A native and current resident of Southern California, Suzanne Enoch loves movies almost as much as she loves books. She once appeared on an E! special, Star Wars Is Back, as an expert on the romance in the Star Wars movies. Other highlights include winning her third grade spelling bee, receiving an E.T. poster and T-shirt in an alien-inspired poetry contest, and submitting a script for The A-Team (which was not why the series was cancelled). When she is not busily working on her next novel, Suzanne likes to contemplate interesting phenomena, like how the three guppies in her aquarium became 161 guppies in five months.

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Additional Info

Imprint

HarperCollins e-books

Filesize

868.58 KB

Number of Pages

384

eBook ISBN

9780061210792

Excerpt from: Billionaires Prefer Blondes by Suzanne Enoch

Chapter One

Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.

Samantha Jellicoe liked New York City. Hell, her vagabond shoes were longing to stray, just like the song said. The rest of her verses would go a little differently than Sinatra's, though. She would croon about how the wealthy citizens lived in basic insecurity amid the huddled masses, how all the taxis handily looked the same for timely escapes, and how everyone was so involved in their own crap that they couldn't be bothered to notice anyone else's.

And for people like her, who made their livelihood by slipping their vagabond shoes in and out of places they shouldn't, that made it very close to heaven.

Or rather, she used to make her living by slipping through the shadows and snatching up other people's very expensive belongings. Not any longer. She was now retired from that business. R-E-T-I-R-E-D. Retired. Which didn't explain why she was currently standing on the doorstep of one of the influential elite. All right, she hadn't entirely retired. She'd just gone legit. She had a day job. Yay, her.

With a slight, professionally considered tilt of her head, she smiled and shook the hand of Mr. Boyden Locke. "Glad I could be of help, Boyden," she said, still not entirely certain his name hadn't been designed by some MIT think tank for the purpose of encouraging investors. She would choose something like Samantha Safehouse for herself. "And thank you for the coffee."