The good news? I’m filthy rich. The bad news? I have a stalker. When winning the lottery turned me into a walking, talking cash cow, I did what any smart, newly minted millionaire would do—I hired a bodyguard. Enter Jackson broody, bossy, and about as much fun as a tax audit. He’s all muscle and rules, and I’m all impulse and glitter. Forced into close quarters with Mr. No-Nonsense himself, I should be focused on the whole not getting kidnapped thing. But instead, I’m wondering what he looks like without that shirt. (And how I can get inside it.) The more he protects me, the more I want to break his rules—especially the one about keeping things professional. Bit by bit, I get glimpses of what's underneath his fortress-type walls. And I can't get enough. Turns out, persistence pays, and I just hit a jackpot bigger than my lotto win. But when danger tracks us to our idyllic paradise hideout, amongst the chaos, disguises, and escape plans, I realize one money can't buy him...and I can’t let him go. So, I do what any self-respecting multi-millionaire would kidnap him.