Falling head-first into the wrong woman’s bed was not how Reed Bishop’s night was supposed to go. Now a gorgeous, half-naked ballet dancer was threatening his manhood…with a book. He can’t blame her. It wasn’t how it seemed—he was just doing his job, tracking down his lead informant, who, unfortunately, took off, leaving him to figure out what to do with her friend. Staying in her apartment was no longer safe. And that’s how he got himself into this mess. Now she’s sleeping in his bed while he tosses and turns on the couch. There are pink tights in his…
I read. And quilt. A lot.