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His guiltiest pleasure
It takes a nanosecond for Lizzie Marchande to see that Ford Lassiter worships rules and order. Yet behind his leonine eyes this gorgeous but tightly wound man is hiding something much deeper than lust. He’s hiding a deliciously raw, hungry need to take control while Lizzie relinquishes hers. But for this wild, fierce woman there’ll be no holding back his heart...no matter the cost.
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“Leave them on the counter there.” The voice was coming from below him. Taken aback, he looked down to find a pair of absolutely filthy work boots sticking out from beneath a rusty old Contour—his mystery voice.
“Could you please come out of there so I can speak with you for a moment?” Ford wasn’t accustomed to having to ask for things like this, either. When he entered the high-rise in downtown Boston that served as the headquarters for his hotel conglomerate, people snapped to attention. The security guard would smile and wave him through. People held the elevator. On his floor, one assistant would hand him a cup of perfectly brewed black coffee and the other his tablet, the day’s schedule already open for him to peruse.
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