Angol
Preston Michael Shaw.
PMS, as I like to call him.
I don't need his job. I don't need his fancy designer suits or his arrogance or his claims that I put a hex on him, because of course a strong, empowered woman needs to put a spell on a man.
As if I want him.
Pfft. He should be so lucky.
I definitely don't need his irritating demands for caramel-coconut coffee or his fixation on being on time.
Spoiler-I'm not, ever.
I certainly don't appreciate how his touch singes my skin. Literally.
I need to stop obsessing about him. It's just hormones.
One roll in the silk sheets and I'll be over him.
But we can't sleep together until my best friend-his real assistant-comes back from vacation.
Damn his admirable morals and my flaming panties.
And now I've been cursed, because I can't resist the hottest, most annoying man I've ever known...
Author's note: His Temporary Assistant is a standalone office romantic comedy set in our small town Kensington Square, which is near Crescent Cove. It has a happily-ever-after ending and no cliffhanger.
