Enticing the Scrooge Read Online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Jessa Kane Advertisement

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Edison Scrooge must choose a bride in order to claim his inheritance. He never expected to find the girl of his dreams begging and frostbitten on his doorstep. Blessing Wakefield was an orphan herself, now she spends her days selflessly caring for lost children. That ends now. Edison intends to make Blessing his wife and keep her spoiled, so she never has to be hungry, cold...or unsatisfied...another day of her life. He wouldn't dare hope that such an angel could ever love a grump, such as himself, even if their physical passion burns like a roaring fire. Christmas miracles do happen, however, and Blessing just might find room in her heart to fit a certain gorgeously cranky Scrooge.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Edison

“Goddamn my great-grandfather for this,” I growl.

My footsteps pound down the hallway of the east wing of my home. Another set of steps scurries along behind me, belonging to my bespectacled assistant, Ben. As we reach the staircase leading down to the main floor—and ballroom—the sound of string music reaches my ears and I cringe at the familiar Christmas tune.

“Not only do I have to deal with people in my house, I have to spend the evening listening to this?” I direct this over my shoulder at Ben who clutches his clipboard a little bit tighter, a sweat breaking out on his upper lip. “Already, I can’t wait for this night to be over.”

“I hear you, sir,” Ben returns nervously. “It is a rather tedious tradition.” He hesitates—and then, God help me, something like joy dances behind his glasses. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful if you found your bride among the women we’ve invited here tonight? Oh, can you just imagine a spring wedding—”

“No. As a matter of fact, I won’t find it wonderful whatsoever. My great-grandfather Ebenezer made it a stipulation in his will that his male heirs will not see a dime of their inheritance unless they marry. My grandfather and father have both carried on that tradition to honor his memory or I would not be entertaining half the town tonight in hopes of finding one decent woman among them to call my wife.” I shake my head over that infuriating word. Wife. “Mark my words, this tradition ends with me. I won’t put my future heir through this.”

“Good of you, sir,” Ben says, though he’s clearly disappointed. “Though maybe you will be surprised tonight. There are more than a few women downstairs worthy of carrying on the Scrooge name. Every God-fearing woman of marriageable age that I could find.”

I sigh, grinding the heel of my hand into my eye socket. “Yes. Good. I don’t intend to spend a lot of time with this wife, but if I must attach myself to someone, she might as well be an upstanding member of society. It will be best for business.”

“Well said, sir.”

I roll my eyes at Ben and begin my descent to the lower floor, the Christmas music growing louder with every step. The ballroom comes into view, and I must admit, my housekeeper, Marla, did a good job of making my cold house look warm and inviting. Fresh pine garland hangs from the ceiling, candles flicker from the surfaces of strategically placed table, Christmas lights are wrapped around posts and banisters.

Wouldn’t my great-grandfather be so pleased?

“That makes one of us,” I mutter, striding into the room, already scanning the women in the room, highly doubtful that one of them is going to catch my eye. Why am I doing this in the first place? I’m already a millionaire many times over and if the real estate business continues to boom, I’ll be swapping that M for a B in the next decade.

Technically, I don’t need to marry, but apparently, I have a sliver of a conscience. And it won’t allow me to give up the fortune that the men in my family worked so hard to maintain. As a man who values business and money above all things, I simply can’t allow it to be transferred to the bank, which is what will happen if I don’t find a bride by Christmas.

My entrance has caused the festivities to grind to a halt, everyone staring at me, the man who seldom leaves his home. Why would I? My office is located upstairs, and I have a housekeeper to stock my fridge. If I left the house during the day, I would have to associate with people. Good God, I’m already bored just thinking about it.

Roughly half of the guests tonight are women and a lot of them are smiling at me, tossing their hair, a few of them even sending me a wave. I barely resist the urge to return upstairs without delay and get back to work. When I need sexual release, I have my car brought around and I drive a few towns down the interstate to a club where nobody knows my name. It’s the kind of seedy establishment where it’s understood that phone numbers won’t be exchanged and the encounter is a one-time thing. I get myself off quickly with a willing woman in one of the rentable rooms and return home without delay.

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