Taming Mr. Wolfe

a billionaire's penthouse before my first class even sta

here

ing a

ght maid uniform

use 31A-the place every girl on campus whisp

ath, knock o

ans

n, louder. S

Mrs. Donovan scribbled onto a sticky note like it was a grocery l

doesn't cover food. And I can'

t beep, sliding open like the gates to hell

house is

more than my mother's entire life. Floor-to-ceiling windows l

tiously, trying n

call softly

e. Maybe I can just clean and get th

stories. Ev

en W

y bill

ith them. And then tosses t

s only here to finish college or lose his inheritance. But that hasn't

the living room

. A moan. A

G

ree

g from dow

round and start scrubbing the kitchen like a good,

p grunt. And then a

omach

e hall is cracked open, j

ce groans. "That mou

ath ca

en W

e sin wrapped in smoke and silk. Deep. Lazy. Arrogant. Lik

r the mop bucket I left by the stairs. I make it to

tst

ng like my life

e. I can feel the heat of h

w m

ng my hands on the apron.

ye

ery scandal, every d

rtl

cross his collarbone

in. Towel slung

d on me like a thr

curl into

the usual ty

'm not a type. I'm

eps c

d my

ike he's studying me

ar

ke it's a new brand of champa

ough to mop a floor wit

es. Low a

hy is his

he says. "Yo

be liked. I'm h

now. The heat of his bare chest radiates into my sk

I cleaning alone, or am I being

lters-just f

uc

ck employee

Right. And I'm th

ere's an edge to it. He leans in,

old." A pause. "But be careful. Th

to be chewed,"

my mop and turn

r a long time be

e survived my first enc

re

I know it won