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Daddy's Virgin (A CEO Boss Romance Novel)

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"That'd be tonight's performer," Berger called over the noise.

"No, you didn't!" Ellison gave my arm an excited squeeze and then forgot about me altogether. "He's a darling, and I haven't seen him since Paris."

Ellison's darling friend turned out to be one of the biggest acts on the world scene. It was surreal seeing him step off the helicopter and join Berger's yacht party. I thought I might be going crazy.

"Let me introduce my fiancé," Ellison said, bringing the big star over to me.

"She's jumped the gun a bit there," I said. "We're not engaged yet."

"Then I still have a chance." He wrapped an arm around Ellison's waist, and half the yacht let out jealous squeals of delight. "Mind if I steal her away?"

"Not at all," I said.

Ellison ignored me completely and jumped right into the excitement of the party. I clung to the railing and wondered if it was too late to grab a dinghy back to shore.

"I know people say that money goes to your head, but you are a whole new case of crazy," Berger said. He joined me at the railing, looking out over his spectacular party like a sultan. "No one understands how you could possibly turn down Ellison Ramsey."

"That doesn't mean it's okay for her to make up our engagement. That's the crazy part," I said.

Berger snorted. "And

there's where you are wrong. Any other man, or woman for the matter, would be overjoyed that Ellison had decided on them. Do you even realize what her attention has done for your reputation?"

I didn't want to admit that it was true. Ellison's false rumors about our impending wedding had actually started to change my reputation from hopeless bachelor to decent prospect. I was getting way too many interested glances from the high society ladies now. As a wealthy widow in a bright red dress gave me a glance, I realized that I could easily burn off the changes. All it would take was one indiscretion.

"Seems like even your father is starting to notice," Berger continued the conversation.

"My father can think whatever he damn well wants. As long as it annoys my brother," I said. Now that I had stocked up enough money to appease the Maxwell ambition, my father had become downright friendly.

Berger stood up and cleared his throat. "I really don't get you, Rainer. You made your billions; you could have all this and more. You could marry Ellison and be at the top. What's stopping you?"

The buzzing of a small boat was a convenient distraction. I glanced down to the water and saw that it was Tasha arriving. Alone. Had something happened with her blond landscaper? The hope I felt was ridiculous, and I did the best I could to wipe it off my face before I turned back to Berger.

"Like you said, I've already got a lot. So, I don't see the harm in waiting for something I really want," I said.

Ellison joined us at that moment. "I bet I know what you really want," she said. "If you've been waiting to make a big announcement, the stage is all set."

I glanced over to the stage and saw the world-class performer wink at Ellison. "Not my kind of music," I said.

An actual frown broke through Ellison's self-assured expression. She turned away and caught sight of Tasha boarding the yacht. "You and your one-hit wonders," Ellison said.

"Sure you want to tie the knot with that?" Berger asked.

Ellison fluffed her hair and gave Tasha an evil appraisal. "I'm not worried."

I was desperate to escape, and the shore was getting farther and farther away. The next waiter who walked by was shocked when I stopped him. "Is that fresh thyme on top of the stuffed mushrooms?"

"Yes, sir. The chef grows it himself." The waiter nodded to a nearby man in a white coat.

I moved over to his table and complimented him on the taste. The chef looked at Ellison and hesitated to talk, but I got him into a whole conversation about growing his own herbs.

"The flavors are much richer," the chef said.

Ellison sighed and walked away. Moments later, Berger followed her.

"Thanks," I told the chef.

"You know we're on a boat, right? You can't escape," the chef said.



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