Three more days to go!

And against the backdrop of his plain black tee-shirt, his muscular arms were covered with tattoos that reached all the way to his knuckles. He looked like a modern-day rake, the kind of man that exists solely to lure women into the best kind of sin.

But it was his smile that had me tightening my hold on the window—a precaution against real-life swooning. A first for me, and not a sensation I’d ever expected to experience.

“Fair warning,” he said, voice like silk. “I’m no Prince Charming.”

“Excellent,” I replied. “I’m not the kind of princess who needs saving.”