Project Director Zane Caldwell has a major problem -- a charming, go-getter hotshot from Chicago named Ford Trionni, recently hired at Widdley Finch Inc., a Connecticut-based marketing research company. The man, whom the secretarial pool nicknamed "The Italian Stallion" based on his stunning good looks and sexual aura, has also gained the reputation of a superstar in the industry due to his innovative analytical techniques. The trouble is, the man wears his accolades like a badge on his lapel, strutting around the office like a peacock.<br><br>Ford's self-centered, lofty attitude drives Zane to utter distraction. Even worse, the man seems to know it, intentionally using his sizzling sex appeal to tie Zane's patience and libido into knots while giving off mixed messages of mutual attraction. But from what Zane can tell, Ford's already involved in an intense relationship with someone else, and the last thing Zane wants is to fall for a guy who not only treats him like a peon instead of an equal, but intends to make him a side dish to his current love affair.<br><br>Yet as he works with Ford on an important account, Zane begins to realize there's more to Ford than the man lets on, and all may not be what it seems. As the heat between them builds into an inferno despite their contrary work relationship, Zane vows to get to the bottom of Ford's confusing behavior once and for all. Is the man playing games with Zane's job and his heart, or is there a chance they might actually discover they're the perfect partners?

And the Survey Says

Unless they had an open relationship…hmm…


No, stop it. Just stop it! The man cares about no one other than himself, and maybe that guy named Mitch. Quit flirting with disaster. Forget about him and move on!


When I returned to my office, I raced to my desk, yanked open a drawer, and tugged out the half-pack of cigarettes I’d squirrelled away on Friday. I convinced myself that a quick jaunt outside would do me a world of good. Yes, if ever I needed a crutch to sort out conflicting feelings, to calm my racing heart from the temptation I’d just faced, the time had arrived. I started to pocket the cigarettes until I heard a giggle I knew all too well.


“Please tell me I won. Oh, pleasetell me I won.”


“M-Mallory…” I glanced up at her, knowing full well my cheeks burned like a child’s who’d been nabbed sneaking a cookie from a jar. Or how Ford’s cheeks had looked a few moments ago when I caught him ogling my dick. “Hope you won what?”


Chapter 15