Guard yourself against the sinful delights of Vegas or you’ll wake up naked and married to your grumpy firefighter neighbor. . .

Get your copy today because who can resist the temptations of Sin City and grumpy firefighters!!!

Omg, this book has so many emotional situations along with heartbreak and you find yourself hoping that they eventually get the happy ending that they both deserve.

-Bookbub Reviewer Jean

The best explanation fire captain James Haskell could come up with for his current predicament was aliens.

Yes, aliens must have taken him in the middle of the night and brought him back. Or he was on Quantum Leap and he woke up in someone else’s body.

Or he was dead again.

The point was, he lacked a reasonable explanation for why he was hungover in an unfamiliar hotel room and wearing a ring on his left hand.

Someone was in the hotel shower because the water was on. That someone was singing ‘Poker Face’ by Lady Gaga with a foreign accent.

Did he mention he was naked? More importantly, he was shirtless, which was verboten around other people.

James examined the ring on his finger. Plastic? He squeezed it experimentally, deciding it was more solid than plastic.

Could he have been kidnapped? Drugged?

He turned on the bedside light and moaned. The light hurt.

Stumbling out of bed, he searched the hotel room. Where the hell were his clothes? He couldn’t even find his socks. He rubbed his face, feeling stubble, and then tried his hair.

Damn, his hair felt rough—the type of thing that happened if he took a shower without oil. He was clearly NOT in his room, because he needed a serious co-wash. Apparently kidnapping aliens did not understand that without oil, his Black hair became super dry.

A raven-haired woman peeked out of the bathroom. “Baby, I have the conditioner if you want to use it.”

She stepped, out holding the conditioner in her left hand, which wore a wedding band. The woman was tall, and equally naked as he. His gaze traveled up her pale skin to her light gray eyes, taking in the multiple hickeys and bruises on her chest and legs.

Was that his wife? Had he done that to her? Him? Not possible. His sex drive had been on its lowest ebb ever for months. Whoever had banged her had done a very thorough job.

Unbidden, his cock stirred, and he felt a rush of hormones. For some reason, his dick believed it had participated in this activity.

“You want me to wash your back?” The woman smiled.

No way. . . she wanted to . . . he hadn’t let anyone . . .

She sauntered toward him and put her arms around him. His body liked that tremendously. “Jamie, are you okay?”

His jaw dropped as the smoke cleared, and he could see the fire. No one called him ‘Jamie’ except one person.

He’d married Caroline Peters, his next-door neighbor?!