Some men play with fire. I built my empire out of it. People call me intense. Obsessive. Grumpy. They’re not wrong.
Then she walked into my kitchen—bright, soft, and so completely out of place in my world of black and steel. A new addition to my charity tour, sent to “assist” me. Like I needed help.
She talks too much, smiles too easily, and thinks she can sweet-talk her way through the heat. But when she looks at me with those wide eyes and flour on her cheek?
The only thing I can think about is ruining my reputation for her. She’s supposed to learn from me. Problem is, I can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to taste what she’s made of.
I told myself I wouldn’t mix business with pleasure. But some temptations aren’t meant to be resisted.
