The Playboy by Sloane Hunter

Celebrity? Welcome to reality.
Twain Conrad doesn’t know how to talk to children.
Weird, right?
Also not very promising if he’s going to work a hundred community service hours in my daycare.
I almost didn’t believe it when I realized who was coming in to work today.
Twain Conrad. The media’s bad boy. Billionaire by the age of twenty-three and known for his legendary parties and horrible decisions.
Arrogant. Entitled. A jackass, basically.

That was what I thought.
I didn’t expect him to be drop-dead charming.
I certainly didn’t expect him to be even better looking than on TV.
And for a moment, I thought that this just might work.

Then he told me his rules: No playing pretend. No snotty noses. Definitely no diapers.
And baby talk? What the hell is that?

As magnetic as Twain is, that’s where I draw the line.
I have a struggling daycare for the underprivileged to run and a dream of making it something more.
I don’t have time for his games.
So I have a few rules of my own: Step up, shape up, and shut up.
And for god’s sake, stop hitting on me!