Here s a tip: never trust a jackass in preppy clothing.
The phrase trust me should have been my first clue to hightail it out the door, but hindsight is always 20/20.
So there I was, on a stage with two other men, being asked ridiculous questions by a woman I couldn t see, but whose voice made my pants tighten and not around my ankles.
Before I knew what was happening, I’d signed up for six weeks in paradise, isolated on an island for forty-two days with a complete stranger. And when I finally laid eyes on the sexy brunette who belonged to that voice, a part of me thought this wouldn t be so bad.
I ve always been a levelheaded guy. I am a successful, smart, and shrewd business man. But that was when I was listening to the head above my shoulders. Once the blood traveled south, I always ran into trouble.
She called me Mr. Wrong, and that was fine with me.
Lesson learned: lust always trumps logic.
Mallory Sims is late for her first day of work.
After spilling her tea, she discovers she has no gas in her car. Add that her arm keeps sticking to her dress from syrup left on the console of her car, flustered feels like an understatement.
Then she sees her new boss.
Graham Landry is the epitome of NSFW in his custom-fit suit, black-rimmed glasses, and a look so stern her libido doesn’t stand a chance. Being flustered is just the start of her problems.
Her punctuality is only the start of his. With a pink slip in hand, he’s been waiting on his new secretary to show up only to let her go. Then she rushes in with her doe eyes and rambling excuses, smelling like bacon and lavender. The termination paper falls to the side as she falls in his arms.
This is a disaster in the making. Not because of his pinpoint exactness or her free spirit, but because when they’re together, the sparks that fly threaten to burn the whole place down.
You’ve run out of time
What happens when your wealthy, pretentious Italian parents create a contract for you when you turned twenty-one and now a few years later you realize you only have nine months left to fulfill it.
Must be married and pregnant by the age of twenty-five.
It has to be true love.
All stipulated in the contract.
Rica has no boyfriend.
She’s not easy.
She’ll be twenty-five in nine months.
What’s NOT in the contract:
Her parents forgot to mention he must be Italian.
Well, at least there’s a little hope. Very little hope.
We all have one.
That magic number that will get us to agree to do anything, be anything.
Don’t sit on your gold-plated high horse and say you don’t because you do. Everyone does. Each of us has something we covet enough that we’d sell ourselves to have it.
What’s my tipping point, you ask? Apparently a cool quarter mil will do the trick.
What does one do for 250 large, you wonder? Anything the infamous, gorgeous playboy of Seattle wants. For the next four months I’ll be Shaw Mercer’s arm candy, his beck and call girl, his faux girlfriend. I’ll be his to command, mold, push and pull in any direction he sees fit.
I’ll fight falling into bed with him. I’ll fight falling in love with him even harder. I’ll fail at both. And when my past and present collide in the most unexpected of ways, I’ll learn that while one man’s love for me has never died, the only man’s love I really want will never be mine.
*warning: 18+ only. Contains foul language, explicit sex and a hot alpha (or two, or three). NOTE: Book 1 in a duet. Conclusion in FOUND UNDERNEATH, out May 2017
Tia Monroe was smart, sassy and successful. Sure, she could get a little crazy at times—life around Tia was never boring—but that was part of her appeal. And while she didn’t see herself as ‘classically beautiful’, she had no shortage of options in the boyfriend department. She just hadn’t found one who held her interest.
Until she laid eyes on Eric Larsson, and then it was lust at first sight.
He packed the perfect mix of smoldering sexy and unapologetic cool into his blond-haired, blue-eyed, ridiculously hot six-foot-four frame. One smile from him was enough to twist her insides, making her girlie bits tingle in the most delicious way. But it wasn’t just his looks, he was smart and funny—charming in the most a-dork-able way.
The only problem was . . . Tia had never actually met him.
Eric Larsson was one of Hollywood’s hottest movie stars, rising to the top of his game and leaving a trail of disintegrated panties in his wake. Tia’s were no exception—but she wasn’t delusional. Love, marriage and happily-ever-after were not part of her fantasy; she just wanted to meet him. Just one time. One time. Confident that just seeing him in the flesh would get him out of her system.
So, with her resolve steeled, Tia set off on a quest to make it happen while avoiding her mug shot being splayed across the five o’clock news.
The journey no doubt will make for one hell of a story.