You'd think working for "LA's Sexiest CEO" would be fun. You don't know Jack McCann. The arrogant bosshole wants a slave, not an assistant. He barks orders, wears a perma-scowl, and demands superhuman skills in mind reading.
When he humiliates me in front of the whole office, I stand up to him . . . And wait to be fired. Instead, we make out in the elevator.
I should hate him. But those rock-hard abs and piercing eyes melt my resistance into a puddle. Trust me, this is purely physical. Jack the Grouch doesn't do relationships.
Besides, I'd never fall for Lucifer in an Armani suit. Not even when I catch glimpses of a heart beneath that wall of ice.
But Jack doesn't know my secret. Mr. Grumpy Boss from Hell is going to be a daddy.
Contains mature themes.
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