The CEO Daddy Next Door

by Karen Booth

  He wants a mother for his child. She won’t settle down. And now they’re living together...

  After one disastrous date, reality TV personality Ashley George and devastatingly handsome British billionaire Marcus Chambers are roommates! When a fire destroys her apartment, Ashley leans on her Manhattan neighbor for help—and soon finds herself falling for the father and his baby. But despite their off-the-charts attraction, Marcus only dates women who would be suitable mothers for his daughter. His free-spirited neighbor is completely unsuitable. So why can’t he seem to keep her out of his bed...and out of his heart?

  “You believe all of that business about there being a true love for everyone? Or is it just for your show?”

  Funny, but no one else had ever asked Ashley that question. “I do believe it.”

  Marcus took a look around the dance floor. All eyes on them. “I’m tempted to give them a show.”

  His rich, buttery accent was working its way into her. “What did you have in mind?”

  “If we do it, I think we start slowly, give them a taste of what’s to come.”

  “Of course. We wouldn’t want to go too fast.” Except that she was thinking about nothing but going very fast, away from this party, away with him.

  “I could start by kissing your cheek, whispering in your ear that you look beautiful tonight.” He did exactly that as he said it, his warm lips on her face, his hot breath against her ear, skimming the slope of her neck.

  Finally. A kiss. His approach was commanding and entirely self-assured, his grasp on her so firm—she wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed so masterfully.

  When they came up for air, her head was in the clouds. Flashes of light surrounded them. So this was what it was like to see fireworks.

  Dear Reader,

  Full disclosure: I have a thing for British men. It started with James Bond when I was a girl. Duran Duran came along when I was a teenager, and that sealed the deal. It’s the way they carry themselves, the dry (and often naughty) sense of humor and, of course, the accent.

  The CEO Daddy Next Door has a British hero—hard-nosed and handsome single dad Marcus Chambers, who is in the US temporarily. He moves in next door to determined, but slightly scattered, reality-TV matchmaker Ashley George. Her life and apartment renovation are intruding on Marcus’s peace and quiet. He’s not a fan, however gorgeous she is.

  These two were so much fun to write. They were an endless source of sexy banter and restrained flirtation. One of my favorite scenes comes after their first kiss. Ashley is reeling and unsure where this is going. Marcus has a young daughter, and that responsibility terrifies her. Still, she has to test the waters. She offers him her hand in the back of the limo on the way home after a party. But Marcus doesn’t take her hand. He doesn’t kiss her. He’s too torn over his attraction to a woman he isn’t sure is good for him. Instead, he surprises both Ashley and himself with a sweet story that turns to seduction, employing nothing more than his fingertip on her palm and his buttery British accent. Marcus melts the page...and Ashley. I hope you find it just as sexy!

  Happy reading!

  Karen

  KAREN BOOTH

  The CEO Daddy Next Door

  Karen Booth is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ’80s music, Judy Blume and the films of John Hughes. She loves to write big-city love stories. When she takes a break from the art of romance, she’s teaching her kids about good music, honing her Southern cooking skills or sweet-talking her astoundingly supportive husband into mixing up a cocktail. You can find out more about Karen or contact her at karenbooth.net.

  Books by Karen Booth

  Harlequin Desire

  That Night with the CEO

  Pregnant by the Rival CEO

  The CEO Daddy Next Door

  Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or karenbooth.net, for more titles.

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  For my amazing friend and long-lost sister, Piper Trace. You helped me get through this book and I’m forever grateful. May we have years of giggly brainstorming sessions ahead of us.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Excerpt from Waking Up with the Boss by Sheri WhiteFeather

  One

  Pure exasperation rushed from Ashley George’s lips when she closed her apartment door and spotted Marcus Chambers waiting for the elevator.

  “I suppose you’d like me to hold the lift.” Marcus’s rich British accent and unflinching delivery made the statement far more annoying. He knew she was headed downstairs. Unless she was going to descend eleven flights of their Manhattan apartment building in under five minutes while wearing a pencil skirt and four-inch heels, she’d need the elevator.

  She sucked in a deep breath and breezed past him as she stepped onboard. Her long blond locks were given a swish for good measure.

  “First floor?” he asked.

  She dug her fingernails into her palms. Two seconds in the same space and he was already on her last nerve. “We both know we’re going to the same meeting. Being cute about it won’t help.”

  He straightened the jacket of his charcoal-gray suit, folded his hands before him and looked straight ahead at the doors. “A gentleman is never cute.”

  Cute was definitely an undersell in Marcus Chambers’s case. Ridiculously handsome, yes. Which was too bad, because he was also a grump of epic proportions. Whatever made him that way had to be genetics or a product of his past. Otherwise, he seemed to have everything—money, a primo apartment at a prestigious address on the Upper West Side, enough good looks for a lifetime and—although Ashley had seen Lila only in passing—a beautiful baby girl.

  “I wouldn’t be in this elevator at all if you’d stop complaining to the building board,” Ashley replied.

  He cleared his throat. “And I wouldn’t have to complain if you’d hire a competent contractor to finish your renovations. I’m tired of living in chaos.” He glanced over his shoulder and dismissed her with a flash of his piercing green eyes. “Chaos seems to follow you wherever you go.”

  Ashley pursed her lips. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Considering the things he’d witnessed, her life probably looked like a tornado with nine lives. She was always in a rush, often juggling her phone while many of the million things going through her head managed to leak out of her mouth. Sure, there had been problems with the renovations to her apartment. Sometimes things didn’t go smoothly. She did her best to keep things on track and really, he hadn’t even tried to be more understanding.

  She sighed and leaned against the elevator wall, stealing another eyeful of him. If he underwent a personality transplant or at least learned to take a deep breath, he might be perfect—strong jaw with a devilishly square chin, close-cut scruff along his jaw, thick head of mahogany brown hair. Her vis
ion dipped lower and she shuddered as images of his glorious chest and astounding abs flashed in her head. She hadn’t been lucky enough to see his torso live and in person, but she’d unearthed photos of him on the internet. He was one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors, as billed in a charity calendar full of hunky guys. A bachelor raising a baby—divorce was a terrible thing.

  Somewhere in the world was a true match for this stunning-on-the-outside, stodgy-on-the-inside man. Ashley believed that about everyone. It wasn’t a made-for-TV act she put on for her reality show, her namesake, Manhattan Matchmaker. True love and soul mates were real, just as real as the things in life everyone feared—broken hearts, family illnesses, life-or-death obligations.

  Ashley still believed she’d find her own match someday, but after getting dumped before Thanksgiving by the guy she’d thought was “the one,” she’d decided to take a year off from dating. Focus on herself in the context of “me,” not “we.” She hadn’t lasted long. Marcus had moved in during the first few days of January, he asked her out a week after they’d met, and she’d stupidly said yes. That night three months ago had done nothing but prove her thesis: she had no business being with a man right now. She didn’t trust her instincts when it came to love, at least not where her own heart was concerned. Not after the heartbreak of James. And her life was indeed chaos.

  Marcus moved his head to the side as if working out a kink in his neck. A waft of his aftershave settled on her, its effect on her as unavoidable as the heat of a South Carolina summer. Damn. He even smelled good—warm and masculine, just like the finest bourbon, peculiar since Marcus was CEO of his family-owned gin distillery.

  The elevator dinged. “After you.” His velvety accent echoed in her head. If only he’d used it for something along the lines of, “Don’t you look smashing? I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass the last three months.”

  Ashley strode down the hall. Her skirt was too tight to take the extralong strides she hoped could convey her determination to come out of this confab unscathed, but she still marched into the meeting room, stilted gait and all. The five members of the building’s board sat at a long table, conferring. Ashley’s stomach lurched when she saw the board president, Tabitha Townsend. Tabitha regarded Ashley as if she were a red wine spill on white carpet. Ashley wasn’t exactly about to invite her over for cosmos and girl talk. And now it was time to charm Tabitha and the board, when Ashley had just had an exhausting day of publicity for the new season of Manhattan Matchmaker.

  “Hello, everyone.” Ashley shook hands with her only ally, Mrs. White, a longtime building resident. She was not only upper-crust through and through but also a reality TV addict. Ashley’s show was one of her favorites.

  “Will you say it for me? Just once?” Mrs. White asked, looking hopeful.

  Ashley didn’t have a choice. She had to make somebody in this room happy. “I’m Ashley George, and I find true love in the city that never sleeps.”

  Mrs. White clapped her hands together in glee. “I love it when you do that. I brag to all my friends about it.”

  “Anytime for you,” Ashley replied.

  The corners of Mrs. White’s mouth turned down. “I only wish tonight’s meeting was under better circumstances. We should be talking about the new season of your show, not neighborly squabbles.”

  “I assure you, they’re more than squabbles,” Marcus interjected with all the warmth of an iceberg.

  Mrs. White shook her head, eyes darting back and forth between them. “It’s a shame, you know. You two would make a lovely couple. Have you ever thought about that? Going out to dinner to work out your differences?”

  Marcus huffed. Oh, they’d been out to dinner, and it had gone horribly. Nervous to a fault, Ashley had one too many glasses of wine before the appetizers arrived. Apparently she hadn’t fully processed her breakup with James because she rambled on and on about it, about how he’d dumped her because she cared too much about her career, because she wasn’t ready to commit, wasn’t ready to have kids. The list of reasons she’d been rejected was long. Marcus had reacted to it so badly that the night ended with a handshake. That had been a major disappointment... It wasn’t like she’d been foolish enough to think she and Marcus Chambers would fall in love, but he was such a hottie. She’d been looking forward to a kiss.

  Her renovation project started the next day. Thus the battle of Chambers vs. George, a fight she wished would die, was born.

  “Careful, or people will start to think you’re the matchmaker.” Ashley held on to Mrs. White’s hand, wanting to stay with the one person in the room who was on her side.

  She eventually moved along, arriving at Tabitha, who didn’t offer her hand but rather a stabbing glare. Luckily she turned, and her eyes landed on Marcus. “Mr. Chambers. It’s nice to see you this evening.” She ran her manicured fingers along the neckline of her blouse. Despite her attempt at being alluring, Tabitha was definitely not Marcus’s perfect match. Anyone could see that. He belonged with a woman carved from marble, not one made of fire and brimstone. “Take a seat, Ms. George,” Tabitha snapped.

  Ashley twisted her lips but followed orders, perching in one of two chairs facing the table. This wasn’t quite the setup for an HOA meeting. It was more a firing squad, especially given Tabitha’s presence. Ashley crossed her legs, setting her handbag on the floor. Marcus took the seat next to hers.

  “Ms. George,” Tabitha began. “It’s apparent to the board that your apartment renovation is out of control.”

  Off to a great start. Ashley squirmed in her seat.

  Tabitha opened a thick folder overflowing with papers. Marcus had been thorough with his complaints. “Your workers, and in particular the foreman, have little regard for the only other tenant of your floor, Mr. Chambers. There have been circular saws at seven in the morning...”

  “I was out of town,” Ashley interjected. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  “Ms. George. Please raise your hand before speaking.” Tabitha flipped to the next page. “There has been loud music of some sort...”

  Ashley thrust her hand into the air. “It’s just pop music, and the carpenters love it. If you’d just let me explain...”

  “I’m not finished, Ms. George. Quiet. Please.”

  Ashley slumped back in her chair. “Sorry.”

  Tabitha cleared her throat. “As I was saying, the workers have repeatedly made a mess in the hall you share with Mr. Chambers, tracking drywall dust and dirt. They don’t clean up after themselves, and worst of all, they have been seen smoking in the building, which is a fire hazard and strictly prohibited.”

  Ashley’s stomach turned. The most tragic event of her entire life had been a fire. “They know they’re not supposed to do that. I’ve told them. I’ll tell them again.”

  “Frankly, I’m tempted to tell you right now that you must halt the project and hire another contractor.”

  Ashley’s queasiness became nearly unbearable. She’d been on this contractor’s waiting list for a year, and they were her second choice. The wait for her first choice was closer to eighteen months, and that time frame was given to her after she’d pulled celebrity strings. The contractor she’d hired did solid work affordably, an absolute necessity with her sizable obligations to her family back in South Carolina.

  She couldn’t put the project on hold. She’d lose every penny she’d paid the contractor up front. It would take months to recover from that financially, and she’d be stuck living in a construction zone when her entire aim this year was to make her life more stable. With her work schedule and her father’s worsening health after several strokes, visions of Ashley’s dream apartment were the only thing that kept her going some days. She’d come from nothing and she’d worked damn hard for this apartment. She wasn’t about to let that slip between her fingers.

  “I’m very sorry if this has been an inc
onvenience to Mr. Chambers. I’ll speak to the builder and let him know how serious this is. We’ll get it straightened out this time.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “After reviewing the file, the board has determined that this time is the last time, Ms. George. If your project can’t be completed in a manner Mr. Chambers finds acceptable, we’re pulling the plug. One more complaint from him and you’re done.”

  Ashley’s eyes darted to Marcus. The corners of his mouth were twitching. Was he actually going to smile? “One more complaint? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She tossed her hand in his direction. “There’s no pleasing him. He probably has a complaint about the way I’m sitting in this chair. This is completely unfair.”

  * * *

  Completely unfair. Apt words considering Ms. George’s willingness to ignore the disruptions of her apartment renovations. Marcus and his eleven-month-old daughter, Lila, were trying to carve out a new life for themselves in New York. It was only fair that he deliver the final blow if the mayhem continued.

  “Mr. Chambers,” Mrs. White interjected from her end of the table. “Please understand the seriousness of this situation. We don’t want to be forced to shut down Ms. George’s project for something minor.”

  “Thank you,” Ashley blurted, with a strain of desperation. “The scales can’t be tipped entirely in his favor. If you put him in control, my project will be shut down before we get back upstairs.”

  Marcus reared back his head. Why was she acting as though he was the unreasonable one? This mess was of her making, and she’d dismissed it at every turn. “You act as if I’m making a big deal out of this.”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  Tabitha rubbed her forehead. “The board will not reverse the decision. One more complaint from Mr. Chambers and Ms. George must hire a new contractor.”

  “But...” Ashley slipped.

  “Not another word, Ms. George.” Tabitha delivered a look so stern even Marcus was rubbed the wrong way by it.

 
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