How to be a kickass undercover journalist:
Step 1: Stick to your cover story like a pro.
Step 2: Do not hook up with a playboy billionaire.
I’m Suzie Crompton, intrepid journalist, always late, and owner of one emotionally unavailable cat. My heart has been treated worse than my cat’s scratching pole, and Mittens isn’t gentle.
From now on its career first, men second.
The tricky thing is I've been assigned to go undercover on an elite dating cruise. Sun, champagne, and pretending that I...
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How to be a kickass undercover journalist:
Step 1: Stick to your cover story like a pro.
Step 2: Do not hook up with a playboy billionaire.
I’m Suzie Crompton, intrepid journalist, always late, and owner of one emotionally unavailable cat. My heart has been treated worse than my cat’s scratching pole, and Mittens isn’t gentle.
From now on its career first, men second.
The tricky thing is I've been assigned to go undercover on an elite dating cruise. Sun, champagne, and pretending that I have a credit limit of more than $100? Yes please. All I'll have to do is keep a low profile, write a killer story, and not screw this up.
But I didn’t count on meeting James Hemmingstone, a human cocktail that was one part billionaire hunk, one part sex appeal, and another part raging desire. One look from him and I feel like I can’t string a sentence together, let alone write the story of the year. I’ve got to play it cool, be professional, and avoid his smoldering stare, no matter how weak at the knees it makes me. But Mr Hemmingstone has other ideas, and he's a billionaire who always gets what he wants.
I’ve been breaking news stories for my entire career, but this story might just break me!
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