If You Claim Me (Toronto Terror, #5)

by Helena Hunting

I wasn’t lying about the potential spontaneous orgasm. I’m standing in the middle of a library—a big, beautiful library. It’s climate controlled, based on the temperature, the walls lined with ornately carved shelves, filled with endless tomes. A huge cherry desk sits in one corner of the room, a perfect place to work. In another corner is a grand fireplace with two high-backed chairs and plush footstools. But the most amazing part is the domed glass turret at the far end of the room. In the center is a plush velvet area rug with a stunning chaise lounge, bookended by coffee tables.

It’s like a private snow globe that overlooks the blooming gardens.