Our families have been enemies for thirty years. So why do I want Scarlett Stone more than the air I breathe? Scarlett and I couldn’t be more different. I’m 6’2” and big all over (so I’ve been told). She’s tiny. Like a hobbit without the hairy feet. I’m a billionaire who owns a city penthouse and buys Italian suits in Milan. She lives in a commune and wears real flowers in her hair. I’m university educated, well traveled, and experienced. Scarlett has spent her life surrounded by crackpot hippies, yet there’s an innocence about her that makes my pulse pound. Our fathers hated each other. And now she despises me because I want to commercialize the healing pool between our lands that she thinks is sacred. She drives me crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m set on having the land, and just as determined to have her. And I always get what I want.