About This Book
Jack Mareach went into Mo's Bar for one thing--and one thing only. He'd meant to have sex with any woman willing to allow him the pleasure of sinking his teeth into her. He needed to forget about his father's funeral, and what made him think alcohol would drown his troubles. One lousy night shouldn't kill him. She came into Mo's wearing black lace, head to toe. Removal of all that lace was the one thing he desired before his night ended. He never figured Mo would've so openly lied to him, however. Her name wasn't Shannon. It was Geneva Mary, the famous actress, and his mother's all-time favorite film star. Now, there'd be no guilt. After the sex, he could leave her bed, forget her name, and the remorse for bedding a stranger would dissolve in the morning mist. After all, actresses were used to that stuff. Guilt? You want to talk about guilt? Geneva fired her brother. She'd gotten Jack suspended from the police station due to a damning photo of him and her in the newspaper. Her agent had the goods on Mr. Mareach to make his life miserable. She slept with a homicide cop! Guilt was the least of her problems. Still, from the moment their eyes met, she'd felt him as...the one. The worst part was the one... wasn't always the right one in a person's life. Perhaps while filming in Paris, stuck with Jack for the foreseeable future, she'll be able to figure out if her gut instinct was right about him.
