Gloves Off (Vancouver Storm, #4)

by Stephanie Archer

He glares down at me, stepping into my space. “That asshole was making a move on my wife. I had to do something.” My stomach flips. “I’m not your wife.” “Yes, you are.” He takes another step forward. My back hits the wall.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “You hate me.” “I do hate you.” He doesn’t look away. Why is that so hot? “But I still want to fuck you.”