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When you dump your cheating fiancé, drink too much and call your grumpy Irish crush... “Call him,” your best friend says. “Plant the seed that you’re single.” “I don’t have his number.” “Surely he has a secretary?” You scroll through your contact list. “There she is,” you say, slurring. When his secretary answers she tells you he’s not taking calls. “The witch hung up on me. How rude.” Suddenly a withheld number flashes on your phone. You stare at the screen. “Who the hell is ringing?” “It might be lover boy,” your friend teases. “Or your cheating ex.” You answer. “Hello.” “Are you okay?” The grumpy Irish billionaire's deep gravelly voice makes your skin tingle. “Yeah, hi, ah, yes, I, um, just called to say hi.” “Are you drunk?” “Just a little. How did you get my number?” “Where are you?” “I’m staying with my girlfriend… Well, she’s not my girlfriend, she’s my best friend. I don’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend...not even a fiancé for that matter.” There's a brief silence. “Get some sleep,” he mutters, before hanging up. Rejected, you crash on your friend's sofa. A loud knock jerks you awake in the morning. Looking a hot mess, you open the door. The billionaire boss is standing there in sweats and a baseball cap. “Here,” he says, holding out his hand… Continue reading this spicy forbidden Irish romance today! Also available in paperback.