The day my fiancé left me at the alter for his pregnant secretary, I thought my life was over. Thankfully, my sister refused to let me wallow in misery. Her philosophy? To get over him, I needed to get under someone new. While I didn’t necessarily subscribe to that approach to relationships, a long weekend in Dublin seemed like a good way to move on. Standing in my hotel lobby, I never expected to meet Ross O’Connor, a sexy rugby player with the body of a gladiator and the heart of a gentleman. And when he asked me to extend my trip by two weeks, I never expected to say yes. All I wanted was to get over my ex; I never meant to fall in love.