The only way he’ll agree to the story about the great and reclusive writer, D. B. Carter is if I agree to spend the week with him. He thinks that the reason that I left is that I don’t want him. Nothing could be from the truth. He thinks I was insulted. He’s wrong. I have a fire in my body that burns just for him. Still, I leave. He shouldn’t have asked for something like that. All that it did was push me away. But I have to write this story to save my job. It won’t be published for a while and I’ll have time to convince him to go on the record. At least, that’s what I think. But then the article comes out and he shows up at my house. He’s angry. I’m mad. What happens when that fire between us starts to ignite? What happens when he pulls me close and doesn’t let go?