The competition's heating up. You might even say it's about to get . . . red hot.
When my father died, I lost a hero and a role model-and inherited a floundering furniture company.
So I do what any dutiful (and slightly guilt-ridden) daughter would do-I leave behind my burgeoning fashion label and come home to Chicago to sit at the helm of Bailey Living, the company my father spent his life building.
But righting a sinking ship is hard work, so when I meet an unbelievably hot guy at an industry party, it seems like a perfect (and perfectly innocent) way to let off a little steam.
It's supposed to be a one-night stand. Simple, uncomplicated, completely forgettable.
Except nothing about Luke or the night we spend together is even remotely forgettable. It's unbelievable, is what it is. The kind of night you want to stop strangers on the street to rave about. You know, if that didn't make you seem completely crazy.
That's why I'm convinced I must be hallucinating when I see him sitting across the boardroom table from me a few days later. Surely this is some kind of pleasure-induced delusion.
But it isn't.
It turns out Luke isn't just the guy with the magic fingers and the magic tongue and the magic . . . wand. He's Luke Whittaker, and he happens to be the head of Bailey Living's biggest competitor.
Which makes him my number one rival.
The one man I can't have . . . is the one man I can't forget.
And the look Luke's giving me from across the table right now is one I can't forget either. Something tells me that man isn't going to mind giving me some stiff competition . . .
