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THE WEDPOCALYPSE CONTINUES...
Marlon St. James wants only one thing: to be left alone.
He has a house, a successful private security business, and endless peace and quiet. Things are exactly as they should be.
Until Camilla.
His brother thrusts soft, sweet, curvy Camilla Fox in front of Marlon and announces that she’ll be moving into Marlon’s house. Otherwise, she’ll be homeless.
Fine. Marlon isn’t a monster. He can lend her a room. Temporarily.
Yes, she’s the woman of Marlon’s dreams. No, he’s not going to do anything about it.
He wants her. He can’t have her. The end.
All he has to do is stay away from her and quell the protective instincts that try to rise up and choke him.
Camilla doesn’t need protection from Marlon; she’s a baker in demand, not a damsel in distress.
That is, until Marlon learns that Camilla's life isn't as sugar-sweet as it seems, and she might need the help of a six-foot-four private security consultant after all…
