Can you blame a gal for having a crush?
So when he asks me to help him find his perfect woman, I throw myself at him. Only James Frost would never mix business with pleasure. He's never looked at me in that way. I'm so mortified, I quit on the spot.
But a freak accident leaves him with a few broken bones and amnesia, and me with a dilemma. I'm playing nursemaid, at his beck and call, until my two weeks' notice is up. And that raise I never thought I would get from him might be on the table after all. How far am I willing to go before my pride demands I cut bait and move back home to London?
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