Dominic Cantrell has been famous almost as long as I’ve been alive, but he remains a dark, volatile mystery.
I know why I was hired to handle Dominic’s PR while he’s on tour. It’s not because of my experience—I have next to none. It’s because I’m safe. Plain, quiet, shy, with more-than-ample curves, I won’t distract him.
What I didn’t count on was Dominic distracting me instead. I shouldn’t be so drawn to him. He’s too old for me, too closed-off, and definitely too angry, but I’ve been a good girl for far too long.
Why can’t I be just a little bit bad, especially when my rock star fantasy is so willing to corrupt me?
Our fling has an expiration date at the end of the tour. No strings, no feelings, no heartbreak when it’s over.
I tell myself I won’t fall. But I don’t know if I’m built that way.
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