Shannon and blind dates don’t mix. She barely dates at all, thanks to a string of easy to forget men. But a sucker for punishment, she ends up on another blind date. She should ask the waiter to cork her wine and call it a night. Then he walks in. Wesley is nothing like she imagined: broad, tattooed, rugged and built like a rugby player, with dark hair, a thick beard and thighs that make her mouth water. One look and she’s purring. He’s every bit the brooding fantasy she never asked for, ...
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