Who will win the battle and who is going to win the war?
When Kathy Adams finds herself alone in a deserted building during a hurricane, the last thing she expects is to run into a stranger in the dark. He turns out to be a Peruvian billionaire who takes one look at her in the glare of his flashlight, and decides to add her to his collection of pretty toys. He offers her a dream job on his private island in the Caribbean, and their seduction dance begins.
He is handsome, arrogant, and thinks that every woman has a price. And she's a girl who won't be bought. She wants the real thing—she wants love. Paul Andros doesn't know the meaning of the word.
Kathy is falling for him against her better judgment, every instinct telling her to run. She'd never met his type of man before. Exciting, volatile and always in control. He uses sex as a weapon to leave her weak at the knees.
After one of their many fights, he bids for her at a charity auction, and pays three million dollars to teach her a lesson. The farm girl from Iowa, and the Inca King from Peru wage their final battle on their wedding night and find love and passion strong enough to bridge their differences.
Excerpt:
"Are we engaged in war?" she asked. Her hands were clenched in rigid fists to keep herself from trembling. What does it matter? she asked herself. He had a point to prove, and so did she. The twain would never meet on two adjoining pillows. It would be almost poetic if not for the fact that she feared his violence covered up by a thin veneer of good manners.
"We are engaged in something," he covered her knee with his hand, his eyes lingering on her mouth. "I want you Katherine. I want to make love to you until your mind is a blank and the pleasure is so intense that you are past screaming. I want to see the marks of my passion on your body like a badge of honor." He squeezed her knee, his voice low and intense. "I want your eyes to lose their baby dew and face me with hunger. I want to see you lie in my arms, aching with the need that only I can fulfill. Nothing less will satisfy me!" His hand massaged her thigh with increasing pressure, his fingers heavy and demanding, pushing upward the hem of her dress.
She held her thighs together, her body tight and defensive, her skin breaking into a thousand goose bumps, her breathing shallow and uneven. His hand moved upward, slipping between her thighs. She had to stop him before he presumed to go higher. "How dare you do this?" she struggled with his hand. "You hardly know me!"
"Don't be so rigid, Katherine. Part your legs for me…," he lowered his head to trail his tongue over her knee. And then he bit the inside of her thigh, and she screamed in earnest. He slipped his fingers under her panties and touched her where no man had the right to touch her without her permission.
He slid the edge of his hand between her tightly pressed mound. "You're wet," he commented. "You're not as indifferent to me as you pretend to be." He tugged at her panties to roll them down, his face at the crest of her thighs.
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