by Maya Rodale
While Babbage is considered a pioneer of computing, he’s also known for failing to build the machines he designed—though not without making an incredible effort to do so. He teamed up with Joseph Clement, who was both a highly skilled toolmaker and a talented draftsman. They labored for years to build the machine before having a falling out.
Clement’s role in building the machine was the inspiration for Radcliffe. I took the great liberty of imagining a different sort of relationship for Radcliffe and Ashbrooke (who is inspired by Babbage) and indulged in the even greater liberty of making my fictional heroes’ efforts a success. One last liberty: the Great Exhibition did not actually take place until 1851, but I thought my heroes needed their own equivalent of Lady Penelope’s Ball.
The Difference Engine wasn’t built until 1991—just in time for the two hundredth anniversary of Babbage’s birth—when a dedicated team from the Science Museum in London endeavored to build it once and for all from the original plans—and to finally discover if it would work. (It did! Brilliant!)
I am completely indebted to Doron Swade’s book The Difference Engine: The Quest to Build the First Computer. It was a marvelous and riveting account of Babbage’s life and the modern day quest to build the engine using Babbage’s original plans.
As I embarked on a series of interconnected historical and contemporary romance novels (of which Wallflower Gone Wild is the second, after The Wicked Wallflower), I was deeply pleased to learn that the computer—of all things!—could be a link between Regency London and modern day New York City. The heroes of my Wallflower series will succeed where Babbage did not (because it’s my fictional world and I said so). The hero of my contemporary series, The Bad Boy Billionaire, is a brilliant tech entrepreneur who, like so many men and women today, carry on the pioneering work of innovators like Babbage.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Sara Jane Stone, Amanda Kimble-Evans, and Tony Haile, for reading early drafts of this manuscript. I am also indebted to Caroline Linden for allowing me to use 50 Ways to Sin, the naughty book her characters read in her novel Love and Other Scandals.
Footnote
* The Wicked Wallflower
Discover the secret love story behind
Wallflower Gone Wild!
Meet Jane Sparks . . .
She’s a modern-day girl trying to make it in the big city—while writing a novel shamelessly based on her own romantic misadventures.
Do become acquainted with Duke Austen. . .
He’s a bad boy billionaire with the kind of smile most often found on rogues in romance novels.
Don’t break the rules . . .
What began as a fake engagement quickly became something much more real and intense. Jane is falling for her bad boy billionaire but can’t be sure if he wants her—or her good girl image. But Jane’s shocking scandals conflict with Duke’s attempts to be good . . . and the stakes have never been higher.
Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt from
The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Girl Gone Wild
The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Girl Gone Wild
Minetta Tavern
New York City
Duke and I slipped into one of the intimate red leather booths in the back. The restaurant was small, dimly lit, and decorated in the style of an old school steakhouse. Duke ordered a glass of Macallan 18, and I could tell I annoyed the waiter by ordering only water.
“So are you feeling faint?” Duke asked, apropos of nothing.
“What are you talking about?” That champagne and dancing from earlier had gone to my head.
“The Ashbrooke Effect,” he explained. When I looked at him blankly, he explained: “As in the Duke of Ashbrooke. As in the hero of your novel. I’m assuming he’s based on me. Vain, I know. But tell me, Sweater Set, am I making you weak in the knees?”
“I’m sitting down,” I replied, as I started to get his references to my novel. Oh dear God, he had obviously read my novel, which was based on us. Suddenly, my knees did feel weak, even though I was sitting, because I had been counting on the fact that billionaire boys don’t read romance novels. Of course, Duke had to be the exception to every rule.
“You look a bit flushed,” Duke continued, and I could feel the blush of mortification flaming across my cheeks.
“I’ve been drinking,” I said, and took another sip of water. Frantically, I tried to recall the things I wrote and—I closed my eyes.
“Feeling breathless?”
“I’ve been dancing,” I replied. But really, how was I supposed to breathe when this guy had read the novel about us—that I had poured my heart into?
“Is your heart pounding with anticipation?” His voice was real low now because he had cuddled up next to me in the booth and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me even closer.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes.”
My heart was pounding, I was breathless, and a little bit dizzy.
“I’m surprised you read it,” I said, taking another sip of water.
“I had to know what everyone was talking about,” he replied. “And then I had to be able to converse intelligently about it with the author.”
“I didn’t think you’d read it,” I muttered.
“So you never thought that I would find out that you described me as ‘so handsome that he sucked all the attention in the room toward himself, as if he possessed his own personal force of gravity.’ ”
“No, of course not.” Otherwise I wouldn’t have published it.
“Or described yourself as a plain wallflower?”
“Nope. And this is embarrassing,” I said.
“It’s a good book, Jane,” Duke said. “No matter what happens, know that. If it didn’t . . .”
“If it didn’t what?” My brain snapped to focus.
“It complicates things,” Duke said reluctantly, shifting so he wasn’t holding me so close anymore.
“Because of Augustus?” I remembered the articles I read about their big—and overlooked—product launch because everyone was talking about my book and the anger of the big and overlooked investor.
“Yes,” Duke said grimly. “But not just him. I’m a private person, Jane.”
I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny about that?”
“You share everything about yourself online! You’re in the papers, the blogs, on Twitter, Instagram, and on social networks I’ve never even heard of!”
“Yeah, but I notice I never tell them anything really personal or revelatory about me. It’s all about Project-TK or the industry.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? You don’t tell anyone what you’re thinking or feeling. No one really knows you, do they? Even me.” I remembered being so frustrated knowing which articles he’d read, or having seen pictures of meals he ate, but having no idea how he felt about me.
“I told you things, Jane, that I never told anyone else. And now I see them published for everyone to read and make assumptions,” Duke said.
I glanced up at him. His expression was inscrutable, but I saw the tension in his jaw. He took a sip of his whiskey.
“Ashbrooke . . . he’s just made up,” I said. It wasn’t a total lie. Ashbrooke was fictional. He was just inspired by Duke.
“And Sam or Bennett or whoever?” Duke turned to face me.
“All right, so I used a bit from my personal life.”
“Did I ruin your date the other night?”
My heart was pounding again as I whispered, “What if I said no?”
“Everyone thinks you’re mine,” he said. “And I’m starting to believe it, too.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” I said.
There was something he was keeping from me. I could tell. It was there in the way he refused to meet my gaze and instead took a long sip of his expensive whiskey. It was in the way I had a sudden tremor of fear. All teasing aside, the success of my fictional book was causing real problems with Duke
and me.
“Duke . . .” I rested my hand on his arm and tried to soothe away the tension I felt there. “I just wanted to write. I had something to prove to myself and to everyone. You understand that. I know you do.”
He gruffly agreed.
“I could unpublish it, I guess.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Because I could do it didn’t mean I wanted to diminish my accomplishment in order to raise his.
“No, I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Duke said strongly. “It’s just that Grey is pissed that all the media attention was focused on my fiancée’s ‘smutty bodice ripper’—his words not mine—instead of our new product launch.”
I looked into his eyes and there was no denying the truth.
“He’s not the only one pissed,” I said softly. “You are, too.”
Duke set down the now empty glass of whiskey hard on the table, making the cutlery clink and the candle flicker.
“I just worked so damned hard to build it. It was a huge risk and everyone was skeptical but I believed and I made my team believe, too. And now . . . for what? People aren’t talking about it, which means they’re not using it.”
“I’m so sorry.” I was. I positively ached with remorse. I just never thought anyone would actually read my book, let alone people in the tech industry. “If it weren’t for that blogger overhearing Roxanna talk about it, this wouldn’t be an issue. I didn’t plan this. I wouldn’t ever plan this. I am so sorry.”
“It complicates things. The reason we’re together is so that your good girl image can make me seem like an upstanding, responsible guy. And now you wrote this book that has everyone thinking we’re a sham. And then there are pictures of you dancing on a banquette.”
“What?” I gasped. He grinned wryly and handed me his iPhone. The picture was dark, but light and clear enough: I was standing on a banquette with Roxanna beside me, we were both singing along to the song, waving our arms and sipping our glasses of champagne.
“That was from two hours ago!”
“I don’t want to do this, Jane but—” There was a tense moment of silence when the waiter arrived with another glass of Macallan, which Duke immediately sipped from.
“You’re going to pick your company over me,” I said flatly. Why, why, why did my heart ache to say the words? I knew from the start that things between us were just pretend. Except somewhere along the line my feelings for him became all too real.
He gazed down at me, blue eyes full of sadness. That was what started to undo me—he did care. But I had fucked things up.
The champagne buzz was starting to wear off and a headache was taking its place.
“I want you both,” he said softly. “But things can’t go on like this. I can’t ask you to give up your work for mine. But I can’t slack off on Project-TK now. We’re prepping for the IPO, Jane. Twenty billion dollars are on the line here. This is bigger than me and you.”
“I get it,” I murmured. And then, gazing into his eyes, I confessed: “I just don’t like it.”
This was the closest we’d come to talking about our feelings. What remained unspoken, but was finally understood, was that this was no longer just an act for either of us.
I could see it in his eyes. This guy liked me. Wanted me. Was tortured because of it. I could also see that his brilliant, billion dollar brain was coming up with an alternative course of action.
“Or . . .” he murmured, eyes lighting up. “We put the word out that we’ve broken up.”
Telling people we had broken up wasn’t the same as actually breaking up.
“Just thinking as a novelist here and not a jilted pretend girlfriend—do you think a breakup right now will really quiet all the rumors that we faked a relationship so you could score a hundred and fifty million dollar investment?”
“You wouldn’t be a jilted girlfriend. We could still see each other in secret.”
“A secret romance,” I murmured. “I’m the one that’s supposed to come up with that stuff.”
“Fodder for your next book,” he said with a grin. “What do you say, Jane? Want to be my secret lover?”
About the Author
MAYA RODALE began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence. She is now the author of numerous “dazzlingly sexy and witty” romantic novels. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.
Please visit www.mayarodale.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Romances by Maya Rodale
Wallflower Gone Wild
The Wicked Wallflower
Seducing Mr. Knightly
The Tattooed Duke
A Tale of Two Lovers
A Groom of One’s Own
Novellas from Avon Impulse
The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Girl Gone Wild
The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Wicked Arrangement
Three Schemes and a Scandal
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Girl Gone Wild copyright © 2014 by Maya Rodale
WALLFLOWER GONE WILD. Copyright © 2014 by Maya Rodale. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition APRIL 2014 ISBN: 9780062231239
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062231260
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