Millionaires don’t fall at your feet? Not at all! Only he didn’t fall at our feet—he fell onto our little couch, in the fortune-telling basement. Wounded and helpless.
I saved him, and then he showed up with an offer… to pay me so that I would become his permanent mistress.
Well then, what am I supposed to ask—why did I save this brute? And to top it all off, all the fortune cards are against me! They keep prophesying a relationship with this audacious guy!