When I took a last-minute catering gig at a high-end holiday party, I figured the worst I'd face would be a fussy soufflé or a demanding guest-not the marble floor kissing my skull. One graceless tumble and a minor concussion later, I found myself under strict doctor's orders: a week of enforced rest in the billionaire host's sprawling mansion wrapped in pine and twinkle lights. For a woman who prides herself on self-reliance, it felt like pure torture.
After my last disastrous relationship, I'd vowed to keep my distance-eyes down, heart locked tight, especially when it came to rich snobs. Yet somehow, beneath all the wealth and business ventures, Cory Arlington, the man behind the millions, became alarmingly real to me.
In a mansion large enough to hide secrets, I found myself at a crossroads. I had to decide: guard my heart or risk it all for the kind of love-at-first-sight I'd never allowed myself to believe was possible.