Rhys Carmichael. Smug billionaire a$$hole. Tanned six-pack under that Armani suit. Sexy Australian accent to boot. And my mortal enemy. I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I’m stuck dog sitting for rich people. No matter. I’m a resourceful gal. I just have to be the best dog sitter Sydney’s well-to-do have ever seen and I can get back on my feet. Besides, getting to stay in this beachside mansion for two weeks isn’t so bad, right? Just my luck, the dog I’m looking after ends up in the neighbor’s yard and I’m faced with his handsome mutt…Rhys, I mean. Not the pooch. When Rhys mistakes me for his new uber-successful neighbor, there’s no way I’m rolling over and telling his smug ass the truth. Especially when it’s clear he’s playing for keeps. And playing ruff! I just have to put on the dog and pretend to be someone I’m not. And ignore the way Rhys looks as he strides out of the surf—water dripping off his tanned muscular body. Or how his impossible bossiness seems to get me all hot and bothered. And above all, avoid getting caught out… doggy style! If you’re not into grumpy, bossy billionaires and the feisty, independent gal he can’t help falling for, don’t read this book. If you’re not into ridiculous what-have-I-gotten-myself-into scenarios, maids well-versed in blackmail and a tiny fluffy pooch that won’t quit eating (or humping) everything in sight, you definitely shouldn’t read this book. We warned you.