Guess who moved in next door? NYC’s top bachelor. And I’m not swooning—I’m cringing.
He’s everything I despise.
Grumpy.
Arrogant.
The neighbor from hell.
The bigger bombshell?
He’s a cutthroat hotel tycoon, now a major shareholder in my hotel.
And guess what? He’s convinced he can charm me out of the rest.
No chance his towering 6-foot-2 frame, those piercing eyes, and his ability to leave me breathless with every word will sway me.
My resolve to resist him is as firm as my “No dating CEOs” rule.
In my defense, he locked lips first.
I even attempted to keep my panties on during our first date.
But somehow, things went from hot to setting off fire alarms.
Until those mind-blowing O’s took a detour to “Oh sh*t!”
Because just when I think there might be an “us,” I find myself jobless, apartment-hunting, and questioning all my life choices.
How did I go from locking myself out to nursing a heart in ruins?