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She was my wounded angel.
My obsession.
Now, she is the reason my heart beats.

I took one look at the golden-haired goddess with pain in her eyes and knew I had to have her.
I let myself become the man she needed.
I know she thinks I'm harmless—a friend offering to help a damsel in distress.
She has no idea how wrong she is.

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Exclusive Excerpt

"That smells good," she whispers, her voice sweet and quiet. That's another thing that I appreciate about Helena. I've heard her laughing and joking with Melina and although they get loud, Helena's voice is always understated and calming. Perfect. With the hell my life has in it, calming is exactly what I want to fill my home. "I'm afraid the staff is at a minimum with your father out of town," I mutter, trying to keep my anger out of my voice. Did the bastard not think he daughter needed care, too? "Still the cook had some rizogalo left over from breakfast. I was afraid that would be too sweet, and you wanted salty, so I remembered your father had the staff serve us tiropita during our meeting. I had her heat a few up. Won't be as good as fresh, but they should hit that salt craving." "Not sure I'm up to the rice, but tiropita sounds delicious," she confesses, struggling to sit up while I place her tray over her lap. "First thing is first," I tell her... (Click the button to keep reading.)


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