I don’t take no for an answer.
Women are the world’s most intoxicating prize, and I always win. Money? Check. Charm? Check. Looks? Double check.
It’s a winning combination, and I never settle. I can’t even remember the last time any woman–in New York, Paris, Rome, it doesn’t matter–looked me in the eye and turned me down.
Until Juliet James.
I swear she eye-f*cked me from across the club, practically begging me to take her home and make her moan my name. So I offered her the world, positive she’d accept.
All she offered me was a view of her mind-blowing curves while she walked away.
I don’t lose, and now I’ll stop at nothing to make her mine.
Nothing is ever really free–especially not from Weston Grant.
Just because he’s the sexiest man in New York City, with a body like cut marble underneath a perfectly fitted suit, he thinks I’ll say yes to anything.
He’s not exactly wrong. When he approaches me at work with a proposition, Lord knows I want to say yes to that smoldering gaze and that cocky smirk. But I’ve got rules, and I’m not going to break them for some fling.
I don’t take free money–not from Weston, and not from anyone. Not even when he offers to take me to his penthouse and make me come so hard I forget my own name.
No matter how much I want to…