A blizzard doesn't ask permission, and neither does the ruthless billionaire trying to bulldoze my family legacy.
Cole Sterling is cold as polished steel and used to getting signatures like kisses.
He walked into my lobby thinking my inn was disposable.
Then the "storm of the century" buried the town and locked us in together.
The power is dead, the generator is fried, and the master suite is the only warm room left.
One fireplace. One bed. One enemy breathing down my neck like temptation.
I call him a corporate vulture, but his rough hands tell a different story.
He calls me an obstacle, yet his icy glare is melting into a possessive stare.
Body heat is the only way to survive the night, and his control is slipping.
I start to see the lonely man behind the expensive suit.
He starts to look at me like I'm the only thing worth saving.
But the fallout hits me harder than the blizzard when I learn his real secret.
I'm falling for the man who already signed my eviction notice.
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