Love at first sight?

When pigs fly and the earth stops spinning!

For Skye Hagens and Rome James it was loathing at first sight. Under Skye’s stunning blonde bombshell looks beat the heart of a ball-busting man-hater as far as Rome was concerned. And Skye? Well, in her opinion, rude, insensitive, arrogant jerk didn’t even begin to cover the list of Rome’s sins.

Thank the lucky stars their lives on opposite sides of the country kept their paths from crossing too often.

Until the day destiny stepped in and their stars collided…in the form of a business trip and one needy cat. A week under the same roof with no referee in sight? One, or both, of them was going to end up in an insane asylum or jailed for murder!

But as the days pass, each finds that first impressions are often deceiving. Neither Skye nor Rome is as the other thought and the sexual chemistry both have always resented and kept a tight lid on is about to blow its top…in a big way!

Excerpt:

“What!” she practically screeched. He’d been in her bedroom when she’d stripped off her clothes and walked out naked? Skye wasn’t shy about her body, not after the years of part-time modeling she’d done to pay for university, and she would have sworn on a stack of bibles she’d passed the blushing stage years ago, but she felt the heat of a blush stealing over her body now. “You were there?” she asked weakly, and then irritation came to her rescue. “Why didn’t you say something, you pervert? And what do you mean your bedroom? It’s my bedroom.”

He shrugged again. “Well, I didn’t know that when I chose it, did I?” he asked reasonably.

“What were you doing there?” she demanded, hating his rightful logic.

Looking at her as if she were particularly dense, he said as if stating the obvious, “Sleeping.”

Well, okay, yeah, now that he said that she could see it was probably true. His chestnut hair was tousled, his green eyes were heavy-lidded, and dark stubble covered his strong jaw. And, damn, if that sleepy-eyed predator look didn’t suit him. He should at least have had the decency to have a sleep crease on his cheek or dried drool on his chin. She was pretty sure she would have. He looked liked he’d dressed in a hurry, too. His feet and muscled chest were bare and the worn jeans riding low on his hips and hugging places she wasn’t interested in looking at—really, she wasn’t—were half-zipped and unsnapped.

Despite the do-not-cross-the-yellow-line warning screaming in her brain, her gaze roamed over his good-looking face and traveled down to the sculpted chest behind his crossed arms, then on to follow the light dusting of hair arrowing down from his six-pack abs, past his belly button to disappear behind the faded denim encasing his hips—barely—and long legs. He wasn’t as stunningly handsome as Bastian, but he exuded some kind of magnetic pull that no doubt attracted women as surely as Bastian’s GQ looks . It was working on her and she didn’t even like him.

Sexy. Rome James was definitely sexy.