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

Wednesday morning, after making love at the B&B before showering and racing to the airport, catching our flight in the nick of time, we’d decided to forget any plans to check in at the office upon returning to Connecticut. Although I could have easily found something to do for half a day, like diving back into finalizing my presentation for the Country Land Foods account scheduled for later that month, I couldn’t concentrate on business. Especially not with Ford’s family revelations replaying in my head, along with vivid recollections of our sexual escapades. Ford seemed to share my notion, outwardly kissing me on the plane several times, and on so many occasions in the car whisking us from Newark Airport back to Connecticut that our befuddled driver must have wondered if he was being punked.


Chapter 45