This standalone romcom is set in the same world as
The Billionaire’s Wake-up-call Girl and Most Eligible Billionaire.
Exclusive Excerpt below…don’t miss it!
Max Hilton is my high school nemesis turned billionaire. And tomorrow I deliver his lunch order. In a cat costume.
You know he’s going to love it. He’ll smile that smirky smile, sitting there all superior in his gleaming tower, the wealthiest and most notorious playboy in all of New York, the king of everything.
Turns out it wasn’t curiosity that killed the cat—it was mortification.
I’m almost ready to quit my lunch delivery job, but then my roommate tosses me a copy of The Max Hilton Playbook: Ten Golden Rules for Picking up the Hottest Girl in the Room.
It’s the book that catapulted him to stardom. And it’s my new bible.
I’m going to use his own techniques against him. I’ll wrap him around my little finger, bring him to his knees, and crush his steely heart. Call it payback for all the single girls who had to endure legions of losers wielding his legendary tactics.
But seeing Max every day, I’m discovering a side of him
I didn’t even know existed–he’s not the jerky guy I thought he was. He has
this smile he shows only to me, and it melts my heart. His touch sends shivers
down my spine. And those forbidden kisses are driving me wild.
Falling for him was not in my plan.
Am I breaking his rules or will his rules break me first?
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“Are we going with cheesy puffs today?” I ask.
“Cheesy puffs,” he says hoarsely.
“Good job,” I say. “You made an excellent choice. And just for that, you get an extra bag!”
He tightens his jaw as I snatch up an extra bag.
I’m keeping him off-balance. I feel like I’m really nailing his system today. I head right for him, all the way around his desk, holding his gaze, because that’s what you do to show a dog that you’re in charge.
It hits me here that holding a man’s gaze and walking steadily toward him, never looking away, is also an incredibly sexy thing to do. Every inch of my skin feels alive with excitement.
He swivels away from his desk as I near, facing me with that strangely serious expression. His shirt cuffs are rolled partway up his muscular forearms. His hands rest on his hard thighs, fingers relaxed. Nails trimmed short. Pianist-short. Some habits die hard.
And those thumbs. They’re the same thumbs he stuck in his belt loops while he sang with all of that sweet goofiness during that lost summer. Though science tells us that the cells of the body replace themselves over time—nine years for an entirely new body. So he really is a different person in every way.
I stop in front of him, heart jack-hammering in my chest, remembering the way he’d sing to me during that lost summer.
Even when there was a full auditorium, it was as if he was singing to me and me alone, gaze dancing under that floppy hat. The song was about young, hopeful love. It’s how I felt that summer.
It meant nothing to him. A dalliance of proximity. The second we were back at school, he returned to his cold and cynical mode. Too cool for me.
Quizzically, he tilts his head. “Mia?”
Have I been standing there weirdly long?
I think back to his book. If you feel your control slipping, simply give her another reward for something.
“And as a reward for extra predictable behavior…” I toss one bag onto his desk and pull open the other one with a loud crinkle-snap.
His eyes flare.
I remove one puff from the bag and hold it out to him. “Open,” I whisper, pulse racing. “Open for your prize.”
He watches me sternly. Opening for his prize is the last thing he’s going to do. Nobody pushes Max Hilton around.
The book doesn’t have instructions for outright rebellion. The book doesn’t say how sexy that might be. How a person’s beauty can squeeze deep into your belly. How you might really want to kiss him. To straddle him and sink into him and make him remember. Make him come back.
“That’s not open.” I nudge his lower lip with the cheese puff. “Do better,” I say.
He grabs my wrist.
My breath quickens.
His big, warm hand, encircles my wrist snugly and completely. His challenging gaze deepens, like he can see right into me.
The bright orange cheese puff falls from my fingers.
Slowly, he pulls my hand toward him, pinning me with his eyes.
I swallow, mouth dry. “Are you going to eat my fingers instead?” I whisper.
He brushes his lips over my knuckle, soft and warm and smooth as velvet.
BlueSeal’s review of Breaking the Billionaires Rules
Max Hilton, previously known as Maxfield Miller, appears to be the ultimate playboy, the Millennial Dean Martin. Maximillion Plaza decorates the Manhattan skyline. Max’s brand is all about jet setting around the world, having cocktails by the pool with the beautiful Max Hilton girls, and power. His beautiful face adorns buses, billboards, and magazines. It is hard to believe that all of this originated from a book, The Max Hilton Playbook, which he wrote not long after graduating from The Shiz (The Soho High School for the Performing Arts). The book, an international best-selling pick-up guide, has become the “how to get girls by being an arrogant jerk” and is about to be turned around on him by none other than his high school rival.
Mia also graduated from The Shiz but her acting career hasn’t catapulted quite like Max’s. But you see, she is a triple threat just waiting for the perfect role. In the meantime, she works for the Meow Squad. It pays her rent and most importantly…it provides health insurance which is a must for up-and-coming actresses. Mia freaks out when Maximillion Plaza specifically requests for her to be their delivery person. First the first time in ten years, Mia will have to face Max wearing…the Meow Squad cat suit. Mia and her jilted friends quickly devise a plan to make Max pay for all of the men who followed The Max Hilton Playbook and ended up breaking their hearts. Mia will implement each technique with the hopes of bringing Max Hilton to his knees. However, Mia is uncertain if the “terminator” actually has a heart and if she can get through the plan with her own heart intact.
This is the first Annika Martin book that I’ve read and let me just say this…Annika has one sick sense of humor and I love it! Who comes up with a food delivery service named Meow Squad with women wearing cat suits making the deliveries? I mean, really? I could go SO many different directions with that BUT…I won’t. I read the majority of this book while driving on a daycation with friends who were giving me the side eye every time I burst out laughing. With laugh-lines still in place, I give Breaking the Billionaire’s Rules by Annika Martin 5 out of 5 propellers.
Annika Martin loves fun, dirty stories, hot heroes, and wild, dramatic everything. She enjoys hanging out in Minneapolis coffee shops with her writer husband, and also likes birdwatching at her bird feeder alongside her two stunningly photogenic cats, especially when she should be writing. She’s heavy into running, music, saving the planet, taking long baths, and consuming chocolate suckers. She’s worked a surprisingly large number of waitressing jobs, and has also worked in a plastics factory and the advertising trenches; her garden is total bee-friendly madness and her most un-favorite word is nosh or possibly fob. A New York Times bestselling author, she has also written as RITA award-winning author Carolyn Crane.
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