by Christy Pastore
My Fairy Godmother had a wicked sense of humor, of that I was certain.
The first time I met Jackson Hart, I was on all fours with my ass in the air.
At the time of our meet not so cute, I didn’t know that the handsome man with the most captivating blue eyes was the wealthy, charismatic, and hot as sin hotelier, oh and my new boss.
Well, technically he is my boss’s boss. Just skimming the company manual was maybe not the best idea.
But, I digress. Working at Hart Hotels & Spa was a temporary plan.
Now, that plan has changed. Jackson Hart not only wanted me in his bed and in his life, he wanted me working alongside him.
Some offers are too good to pass up.
Premium scotch aged to perfection, making money before sunrise, nine holes of golf and interesting conversation. Those are the things most known about me. Toss in a leggy brunette or a stunning redhead at a society event for good measure and there’s a story to amuse the public. But, my story goes deeper—to the past that I left behind.
Sooner or later past and present collide. I never dreamed Stevie Brockman would be part of both.
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Wicked Gentleman is my first read by Christy Pastore.
I found myself drawn towards the cover. Even that blurb captured my attention, despite the wealthy businessman trope becoming an overused concept in romance. Sadly, the middle became flat, almost repetitive, slowly losing my interest in Jax and Stevie.
She was innocence and sin wrapped together and I had the desire to explore every facet of her being.
Jackson Hart is reinventing himself years after being driven away from Miami. With Hart Hotels & Spa, he has succeeded, with multiple expansions organised and wealth pouring in as testament to his determination and ambitions.
I didn’t find myself drawn towards Jax. While he is charming and romantic, he isn’t enigmatic or mysterious. Paired with a dirty mouth and suggestive words, Jax is wicked (sometimes), but it did not make me swoon. Not even once.
Despite her young age, Stevie isn’t a brat that whinges and whines, proclaiming “woe is me!” every chance she receives, because she carries deep-seated daddy issues. However, her personality was two-dimensional, awfully flat and hard to connect to in memorable ways.
He had the lips of the devil. And with one kiss, he melted every part of me—setting my soul on fire.
Oh the romance…
I couldn’t find enjoyment in it. Everything seemed to move quickly, but at the same time, not at all. Jax and Stevie could be passionate, with every encounter filled with steam, but it was the ordinary steam. No fanning and drowning myself in water happened here.
It seems my taste in romance keeps morphing and changing, because I cannot handle fluffy romance that appears to fall into a tiny, neat package. Give me intense sexual tension, grittiness, romance that burns steadily and beautifully.
In saying that, I appreciated the witty banter, Stevie’s independence and the first few introductory chapters really gripped me. But the cliche and common trope of wealthy businessman using his influence for poorer love interest died on me. I’m in a, “it’s not you, it’s me” situation.