Emma Anderson has everything in her life worked out. She has her perfect job in a Manhattan empire allowing her to live a quiet and organised safe existence. A necessity to her, after a childhood filled with bad memories, abuse, and a mother who was less than useless.
But, with it comes a problem, one that could derail everything she thought she needed in her life. Her promotion sends her straight into the close employment of young, gorgeous, playboy billionaire, Jacob Carrero with his formidable reputation for being a player. Stuck as his right-hand man, every waking moment of every single day, she realises he is exactly the type of person who could drive her crazy, and not in a good way. Like chalk and cheese, he is everything she's not. 
Compulsive, confident, laid back, dominant and fun, with a seriously laid back attitude to casual sex and dating. 
Jake is the only one with an ability to steamroll over her manicured ice maiden exterior, who is not phased by the closed in demeanour and cool manners, but as much as she wants to, letting him in is another thing entirely. 
A past that made her man wary and no desire to ever let one close enough to hurt her again, Jacob Carrero has his work cut out. He is not someone who takes NO for an answer and will have to learn how to break through if he wants more than the mask she shows the world. 
Jake needs to show her that even some one like him can change when that one girl that matters breaks through. Love-able sexy characters and deep emotional topics.

The Carrero Series (1-3)

　　The motion makes me laugh again, and I like how it sounds. I never giggle like this. It feels very unlike me in every way. I’ve turned into a giggler with zero control over it.


　　“You stay like that while I make you a drink. Tea? Water?” he asks.


　　“Brandy!” I never liked the stuff at all, it burns going down, but it did start to taste good after the third one, and the side effects are positively awesome.


　　“No, Emma. No more alcohol.” He sounds stern, bossy, and paternal, like a father should. It brings sperm donor back to the forefront of my swirling thoughts.


　　“Why didn’t he want me, Jake?” I query sadly. I talk to the ceiling; it feels a bit like I’m lying on a shrink’s couch, like in the movies when sad people talk to psychiatrists in stark offices on green couches and stare at boring ceilings. I note the ceiling no longer looks smooth and creamy; it looks shitty.


Chapter 44