Million Dollar Devil by Katy Evans

Million Dollar Devil by Katy Evans
Pages: 291


Genres: Contemporary Romance
Setting: Atlanta, GA
Source: ARC, NetGalley
Also by this author: Legend, Racer, Million Dollar Marriage, Big Shot

Goodreads

Big-city sophistication meets carnal hunger in this devilish contemporary romance from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Evans.

Heir apparent to her father's company, Lizzy Banks needs a man. The perfect man. But when the rich "fundbabies" she usually rubs shoulders with prove impossible to hire, she takes a chance on a raw beast of a man salvaged from the wreckage of a bar brawl.

James Rowan earns a modest income as a YouTube daredevil, but he can't refuse Lizzy's million dollar deal. As she polishes his rough edges, creating a sophisticated gentleman fit for the highest circles of society, not only does she bring out the perfect man - it's like she's making the man of her dreams. How can she resist?

Though Lizzy loves seeing James in his clothes - and out of them - he isn't the kind of man you bring home to Daddy. Her father's disapproval and the pressure of the campaign have her eyeing the straight and narrow, but Lizzy's finding it awfully hard to resist the devil on her shoulder...

Million Dollar Devil is a secret identity, office-ish romance between the very well to do Elizabeth “Lizzy” Banks and the poor youtuber James “Jimmy” Rowan. Lizzy needs a new model to be the face of the new Banks menswear line so she can impress her dad. Jimmy needs the million she is offering to get him and his brother into a better life. What could go wrong?

I have to start by saying that Lizzy is quite possibly one of my least favorite heroines. Yes, she does grow by the end of the book and I was happy to see that, but she was quite horrible until near the end. First, she is desperate for her father’s approval even though he is a total ass. Second, she says some things about Jimmy/James that are so despicable. For example: “He’s just street rat Jimmy Rowan, a nobody. He’d be nothing if it weren’t for me.” Now, yes, her feelings were hurt because she felt used by him, but to call someone names like this is immature and shows her poor character. Later, while having a drunken meltdown because she THOUGHT Jimmy, whom she had not spoken to in 2 weeks, was kissing some woman, she remarked to a crowd of people during her launch speech at NY fashion week “You put a sewer rat in a suit-He’s still a sewer rat.”

Listen, she does get better. She does mature and realize that she has been a spoiled princess her whole life desperate for daddy’s approval and that she isn’t really living. Congrats, sweetie, you are finally an acceptable human being. Maybe I’m too hard on her. So, you might be wondering why I still gave the book 3 stars (which, in my rating means it was good). Evan’s writes a compelling story. Even though I hated how awful Lizzy was, I wanted to see how it all played out. Would Jimmy ditch her because she was mean? Would he finally convince her he was serious about her? Would he get her to see that her dad wasn’t worth her time? Was he really in it just for the money? And Jimmy was a good hero. He is not pretentious. He is raising his younger brother and doing what he can to keep them afloat. He really is the winner of this story. Well, him and Charlie, his brother. So, while Lizzy is a 2 star heroine, Jimmy is a 4 star hero (because lets be real-he isn’t perfect either).

Million Dollar Devil will appeal to readers who like the rags to riches stories with a bit of an office romance-hence taboo-vibe. Jimmy and Lizzy couldn’t be more different and their story is quite the opposites attract example. Its a fairly quick read, so if you want something a little angsty and a lot sexy, Million Dollar Devil will check your boxes!

 

•   POV: dual 1st
•   Tears: no
•   Trope: office romance, opposites attract, rags to riches
•   Triggers: none
•   Series/Standalone: stand alone
•   Cliffhanger: View Spoiler »no « Hide Spoiler
•   HEA: View Spoiler »yes « Hide Spoiler

authors like K. Bromberg, LJ Shen, Corinne Michaels, Kylie Scott…then you will probably like Million Dollar Devil!

 

Meet Jimmy Rowan, the Million Dollar Devil

Daredevil Jimmy Rowan Describes His Most Dangerous Stunts

Hey, girl. Jimmy Rowan here. You might know me from my YouTube channel. Yeah, I’m the guy who nearly gets killed on every video. Say what? You want to know how I got started?

Ahh, long story. Maybe for another day. Or a night with some tequila Cuervo handy. The short is, I’m a daredevil. And I’m good at it. So…imagine my shock when prim and proper Miss Elizabeth Banks comes up to me at a bar, a really seedy, not-her-damn-type bar, and offers me a hell of a lot of money to be her ‘perfect’ freaking man.

Kind of wild, right?

All I have to do is wear her suits and act “civil” – whatever that means.

And I’m having a great time just raking her with my eyes.

This woman is all long legs, pouty lips, and looking all business in a business suit that’s just begging to get rumpled.

Definitely what Lizzy wants me to do is a walk in a park compared to some of the stunts I do. I mean. I’ve thrown myself off tall buildings and pulled my chute way, way past the moment when I should’ve.

I’ve crashed motorcycles on top of cars when I tried to leap over them.

I’ve broken a rib or two, and sometimes several at a time, and I’ve got a good number of black eyes, with no help at all from anyone but me.

With Sexy little Lizzy here, there’s no physical risk at all. Not one you could see anyway, except the one that I never really saw coming.

Damn her.

Damn her and her little big million dollar contract.

Damn this sexy, smart, closet-crazy perfectionist just waiting for more than just a sweep off her feet. Oh man, this girl needs a flat out toss to the ground. And I’m the man up for the challenge. What? You’re shocked? Lady, they don’t call me devil for nothing.

From Million Dollar Devil:

There’s a long, almost-empty bar and a couple of customers having nachos and chips and salsa at the tables.

But as I walk across the tilting cement floor, every single one of those eyes is on me.

What am I doing here, again?

Oh, right. Probably trying to get myself mugged.

Summoning my courage, I take a middle stool at the bar and tell the bartender, who’s busy watching something on his phone, “Tequila, the finest you have—straight up,” in a gruff voice that I hope makes me sound like I can hold my own, in case someone is eyeing up my purse.

He doesn’t look up, merely smiles down at whatever he’s watching as he pours me something from a bottle called Montezuma and serves with his free hand. What the hell is Montezuma?

Great service. “Um. I said the best you have.”

He looks up at me, finally seeing me for the first time. A frown of annoyance on his lips. “This is the best, princess. Also the only.”

I probably don’t want to upset him, seeing how he has arms the size of tree trunks, covered in tattoos.

I take my shot and guzzle it down. It’s awful, like paint thinner, squeezing tears from my eyes. Whatever. I tap the bar for another. When my curiosity gets the best of me, I ask, “What are you watching?”

“Jimmy.”

“Jimmy what?”

“Jimmy Rowan. The stunt guy on YouTube? He’s going to get killed one day.”

“Hopefully not today.” I frown and peer at the screen as he shows me. “What kind of stunts does he do anyway? That’s so dangerous.”

He tilts his phone in my direction. A guy in a helmet and nylon jumpsuit is throwing himself off an airplane. He’s speaking into the camera saying, “So I was dared to pull the strings fifteen seconds after any sane, normal human being would. So, let’s count down from right about … now.”

My eyes widen, and my insides clutch in concern for the idiot behind the camera.

Fourteen…

The static from the wind makes his voice sound shattered, strained.

“Thirteen.” The bartender is counting.

I watch the idiot continue his free fall as land grows closer beneath him.

“What an idiot,” I mumble, but I’m still unable to take my eyes off the video.

“Five!” the bartender says. I look away.

“Just tell me he lived.”

“Oh, he lives.” He shows me the camera when the guy finally pulls the cord on his chute, and a few seconds later, crashes into the ground. The guy growls, “Ouch,” then starts laughing, a low, rumbly laugh. I can’t help but smile and shake my head.

“And he did this all because…”

“They dared him to. Five hundred bucks.”

“He did all of that? For five hundred bucks?”

“He gets more from the video views. A man’s got to put food on the table.” He eyes me up and down. “Specially when he doesn’t have a trust fund coming to him.”

Shaking my head, I push my empty glass forward. “Bartender. Another drink. Please.”

I’m on my third.

He pours it for me. “Classy guy, that Jimmy.”

“In what dictionary?”

He frowns as he sets his phone back into his pocket and polishes a glass. “Huh?”

“What dictionary would define him as classy?”

His eyes widen as if I’ve just murmured something blasphemous. “Well, maybe not your class. He doesn’t own a Rolls. But around here, he’s royalty. Jimmy hangs out here all the time.” He nods at a dark corner booth situated to the right of the bar. “His office is right over there.”

I see the cluttered tabletop and wonder what kind of man leaves a tripod, camera, and old laptop set up in a bar. He must trust the people who patronize this place. Either that or the patrons fear him.

“Jimmy Rowan will do anything for a dare—he’s a man of honor.”

“If he’d do that for five hundred, what would he do for half a million or more?” I grumble, smiling and shaking my head at the thought. At least I can still smile.

“He’d do anything. What? You offering?” He eyes me with new interest, in kind of a smarmy way, as if he thinks I’m asking to buy his services. Who the heck does he think I am? “Ladies go for him.”

Oh god, he does think that.

“No, thank you very much,” I mutter. “Ladies or women? I don’t think a lot of ladies would go for someone that foolish.”

He raises his gaze past my shoulders. Silence falls over the room, and then the bartender murmurs, “Speak of the devil…”

There’s a loud crash, followed by a ruckus.

“What’s that?” I glance around at the commotion.

The bartender smiles. “Jimmy Rowan.”

I turn my gaze to the door, and my heart skips a beat. The tall, raw-looking sex machine the bartender refers to doesn’t look anything like a Jimmy. The guy is too tall and eye catching and too … well, hot.

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