Anónimo

What’s a man to do when the one who got away comes roaring back into his life, and asks for a little help in the bedroom? Say Hell, yeah. Of course. But if she happens to be my business partner’s daughter? And she’ll be working in our practice, where we’ll be rubbing elbows every day? Also, have I mentioned she's as dynamic, brilliant, and captivatingly sexy as ever?

I didn’t mean to say I was engaged to a hot billionaire–it just slipped out. In my defense, I’d had a really bad haircut, a really strong drink, and I was trying to save face in front of the Mean Girl at my high school reunion. Lucky for me, I happen to know a hot billionaire. Hutton French and I have been friends forever, and even though big social gatherings are not his thing, I called him from the coat closet and begged him for a favor–show up and play my fake fiancé for the night. Except that word of our engagement spreads like wildfire.

Back then, I had it all. After tanking my career - during the World Series, no less - the last thing I want to do is return to my hometown, where every jerk in a ball cap has an opinion about what went wrong with my arm. Then I run into April Sawyer. I can still make her laugh, she can still take me down a notch, and when the chemistry between us explodes, it’s even hotter this time around - and I don’t want it to end. But just when I think I’m ready to let go of the past and get back in the game, life throws me a curveball I never saw coming.

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo. But, thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days, and with one small bed. Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin - but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck, and trouble. I should have known what the disastrous end result would be.