Appearance is everything to my upper-crust mother, but when she insists I take back my pedigreed-but-cheating ex? I’d rather stab myself with a salad fork. So I blurt out I’m dating someone new. Someone like…that smoking-hot, vaguely familiar guy across the restaurant, who could be the next James Bond.
Turns out he’s the star of my favorite, cheesy, sci-fi soap opera. (Don’t judge me.) One minute I’m fantasizing about Borg and his green-hued abs. The next, Simon Dale is making me an offer my sex-starved body can’t refuse.
I’m up for a breakout movie role that’ll launch me off the B-list, but I don’t need a script to read the scene between Marissa and her mum. Even though I’m a London gutter rat who never rubbed elbows with a Royal, I easily slip into the role of Marissa’s doting boyfriend. Why? I need a favor in return— a steady girlfriend, just long enough to convince the producers I’ve changed my wild ways.
Trouble is, I’m going all Method on this relationship—and close to losing the one thing that could break me. My heart.
As a photographer, I appreciate contrasts. The stiff, snobby brat on the flight from New York turns out to be a scared, vulnerable woman who warms my heart. The icy cold soda she dumps in my lap leads to the hottest sex of my life in an LA dressing room.
When I watch her walk away, I feel something I’ve never felt before. A twinge of regret that I’ll never see her again. Except we do meet again. And she’s driving me insane.
Clearly, I’ve lost my mind.
Turns out the owner of the deep, sensual voice that kept me from needing the airline barf bag, who lured me completely out of character to indulge in anonymous, semi-public sex, is the photographer for my designs’ first photo spread in Bella fashion magazine.
Worse, our artistic visions clash. And every time we butt heads, our butts somehow get naked.
I can’t let my hormones cloud my judgment. I tried having it all, and it didn’t work out. I have to stop envisioning a life with him, and get my head back in the game…before I lose everything.