Title: The Billionaire Banker
Author: Georgia Le Carre
Publisher: Georgia Le Carre
When Lana Bloom learns the devastating news that her mother is dying, she is faced with a terrible dilemma. The one thing that can save her is the one thing she does not have. For young and innocent Lana, the unthinkable becomes her only choice.
But when she walks through the door of that exclusive restaurant she has no idea of the seismic shift her life is about to take, for the highest bidder will not be the rich man she has accompanied. Fate drops her at the feet of the
deeply mysterious and dazzlingly gorgeous American banker, Blake Law Barrington. Throbbing with raw masculinity and arrogance, this is a man who owns all that he pursues.
And now he wants her.
The Billionaire Banker by Georgia Le Carre is a bit of a This Man-Fifty Shades of Grey-Fire After Dark mixture to it… without the BDSM aspects. Outrageously rich, sex in Italian leather shoes, bossy man.. Sweet, innocent, and beyond poor good girl who is prepared to do the most unimaginable things in order to save her mother.
I instantly liked Lana, even if she was a bit too naïve. I suppose I am a bit like the handsome Blake in the fact that I am jaded against thinking that such naivety can survive in this world. But Lana proves time and time again that while she is sheltered and innocent she is also unassuming and brave in her own way.
Blake was pretty much exactly like I expected; spoiled rich boy who was used to getting his way in all things. Just like many of the characters like his in other books he has the “she-won’t-get-to-me-I’m-cold-as-ice” attitude. (We all know exactly how these things end.) There wasn’t anything outrageously exciting about his character. There are a few things of his lifestyle that were interesting, I would have liked to know a bit more about some aspects of the world he is accustomed to.
The character development was alright. Really, for me the star of the book was Lana’s best friend Bill. I loved her fierce loyalty and her spunk. I could have used a whole lot more of her in the book. Also, we have Lana’s mum. It was hard not to have a soft spot for her because you know her influence is what raised such an unassumingly sweet woman.
Overall, the book is a good read. There are several places that were a bit choppy in the storyline and the timeline was pretty specific in that the agreement was for a length of time, yet the author never really pinpointed how much time had passed nor how much time was left so it was a bit “wait, what?” when something would happen that had several weeks’ worth of time passing. The smutty parts of the book are pretty hot. I won’t say they are the hottest I have read, but these are surely not your Grammies Harlequins. One thing I will give HUGE props to this author for is she wrote a semi-realistic virgin deflowering scene. No screaming orgasms and it feels SOOO amazing. Nope, it hurt like a bitch and she cried. He freaked a bit and left awkwardly. Basically, it sums up more than half of the deflowering stories I’ve heard from my friends over the years.
The Billionaire Banker gets 3.5 stars for storyline and 3.5 stars for smut. I look forward to reading the next book in the series, I know the author will find her own in this new genre and will just get better and better!
Rupert directs his astonished, vicious eyes at Lana’s. ‘You offered yourself to him too?’
Lana stares mutely at Rupert. His eyes move derisively, hatefully over her. She feels herself cringe.
‘Does he know how much you charge?’
‘Do you doubt I will be able to afford her?’ asks Blake.
Rupert shrivels the way a leech that has had salt thrown on it does. ‘This is why you invited me here, isn’t it?’
‘What a joke!’ he taunts, but his jibe lacks any real bite. ‘The great Barrington can’t find his own whore. He has to steal mine.’
‘I didn’t steal her,’ Blake notes reasonably. ‘I just offered to pay more.’
Rupert’s eyes bulge, bug-like. ‘She’s just a cheap bloody tart. I’ve just finger-fucked her out there,’ he taunts maliciously, jerking his dandruff-laden head in the direction of the door.
Lana feels Blake’s hand tighten around her waist. ‘Consider it an unearned freebie, then,’ he says quietly, but there is warning in the calm words. A warning that is not lost on Rupert. The air becomes tight with tension. Lana looks from one man to the other. It is like watching two lions fighting for supremacy. But her body knows which lion she wants to win this fight.
Rupert shrugs. He knows he’d be a fool to go against a Barrington. He has much to lose. ‘If you think I’m going to fight over her you’re mistaken. Have her.’
He turns on his heel and leaves.
Blake lets go of Lana. She realizes she is trembling. She leans against the desk, hating herself, but unable to stop—nothing is more important than the money—she asks, ‘Did you mean it about the money?’
What Blake thought and experienced when he saw Lana being mauled by the despicable Rupert Lothian?
I should have known then.
Who was I kidding? Just sex? With her? That would never be enough.
This girl was the siren, the temptress that my father had warned me about. The one that had been specially chosen to bring me to my knees. But at that moment I was the proverbial moth flying helplessly towards the flame. I guess, I just wanted her light, more than I wanted anything else…
The brute had her pinned against a wall, his big body completely hiding her from my view. Must have only been minutes, but it was like a lifetime watching that broad back and thick neck. I had to fight the instinct to go over. Break them up. But I am a strategist, a man who knows when to pounce, how to exploit an opportunity. Not yet. Soon. Lose a battle to win the war.
A woman came and wrapped herself around me. She laid her perfectly manicured red fingernails on the lapels of my jacket and smiled slyly. I glanced down at her and shuddered. I hate it when women I don’t fancy throw themselves at me. At that precise moment Lothian moved his thick body away and I saw Lana. Flattened against the wall, her face white, mascara streaking down her face, and her lips already beginning to swell.
Our eyes met.
Fuck me, I looked into her shocked, defenceless eyes, and I did not feel lust! I did not want to take and use and discard as I had done with all the others. The only thing I registered in my body was the unfamiliar need to protect. Not myself but her. That same sensation I had experience once a long time ago as a young boy, when I had come across an injured baby bird. It had fallen out of its nest. I had scooped it in my cupped hands and warmed it
inside my jacket. After it died that evening I never again experienced that sensation. Until now.
Stunned by my own reaction I watched as she ran out of the room on those ridiculously high shoes of hers. And the dirty looks she got. You should have seen them. You’d have thought she stank. I despised my kind then.
In the corridor I saw her lurch unsteadily towards the powder room.
After a few minutes I made my excuses and went to wait for her in the corridor. What the fuck was I doing? But the rational, thinking Blake had gone numb. And another part, a secret part of me that I never let out, that I refused to even acknowledge, had come out and taken over. I crossed my arms and lounged against the wall.
When she came out, I almost did not recognise her. Underneath the layer of badly applied make-up she had the face of a schoolgirl. Hell, she better not be under-aged. That would be all my plans down the toilet. I straightened and waited for her to come up to me. She was no longer crying. Her head was held high and those indescribably turquoise eyes were proud and flashing, and she would have walked right past me too, if I had not raised a detaining finger.
Georgia Le Carre lives in England, in an old 19th century romantic cottage surrounded by a magical garden filled with fruit and walnut trees. When she is not feeding words into her laptop, she is either curled up in bed with a box of
chocolates and a good read, or lost in a long walk in the woods. Especially on moonlit nights. And often with the man of her dreams.