A hotshot consultant hired to streamline Osbourne Corp. meets his match in Pandora Justice—the more she plays hard to get, the more he wants her.

They say that like recognizes like, and the day I looked into her deep blues, I met my other half.

Pandora Justice took over as head of security at Osbourne Corp. after her father’s retirement. Eighty-hour workweeks are normal; being bossed around by handsome outsiders is not. And she doesn’t like it. Not even one bit.

It’s amazing how easily she can lie to herself.

I had to have her. Plain and simple.

The first time Pandora sees Royce in the ring—all tattoos and sinew, covered in sweat—he looks at her like he’s just won more than the fight. Like he won her.

I won’t play games with her. I’ll wait, and it will kill me, but I’ll do it for her.

Royce’s cocky grin with deep dimples makes Pandora melt. Once she wanted to smack that look off his face—now all she wants to do is kiss it. For the rest of her life.

The thought of spending the rest of my life with Pandora warms the place in my chest I didn’t think was alive. I’ve put my claim on her—she’s the one, and I’m done.

This book is approximately 20,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

Edited by Angela James

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Royce

My friends call me Rolly. Granted, I used to be chubby when I was a kid, but I grew out of that around ten. The reason it started is because I come from a long line of rich assholes. The Davenport name is known all over New York, and my father is no exception. I went to one of the most expensive private schools in the state, and when I showed up with the name Royce, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots to Rolls Royce. Rolls turned into Rolly, and that was that. It stuck from day one, and though most of the kids I grew up with ended up being douchebags, a couple of them were ride or die.

My two buddies and I got out of college and started up a consultancy firm. We used the money we made from hustling. The only things we wouldn’t do to make it was sell drugs or ask our parents for it. My buddies, Ezra and Donovan, came from the same background as me, and the three of us agreed we wanted to be our own men. It sucked living in a four hundred square foot studio with two mattresses pushed together and a bathroom with no door. But we made it big in less than five years.