DANTE Mancini, furious about the way his life had unfolded over the past two weeks, tried to contain the effects of all the whiskey he had drunk during the impromptu meeting the night before. He also tried not to think about the crazy solution Benjamin Carter had proposed to counter the Celebrity Spy! article.
The scandalous article, which labeled Ben Carter, Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi, Xander Trakas, and himself as the world's most depraved bachelors, had done immeasurable damage to his favorite charity, the Hope Foundation. Those who ran it had demanded that they clear their names or step down as trustees. To make matters worse, a business venture he was working on could be ruined by his reputation—he was a bachelor who dated women all the time, and everyone already knew it.

Could Ben's idea work? Could taking a drastic measure like getting married divert damaging attention from the foundation and save its most lucrative operation? Perhaps, but was he prepared to accept the gamble?

He opened the door to his office building and didn't bother to take off his sunglasses. He also wasn't willing to admit that all the whiskey he drank while being told he had to find a wife was responsible for his headache and his bad mood. He called the elevator and took a breath. It still infuriated him that Bettino D'Antonio was going to back out of the operation because neither he, Dante Mancini, nor his company stood for family values.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, eager to be alone for a moment before entering the headquarters of the global renewable energy empire he had built with his own hands. He took another deep breath to calm himself and ease his headache. The doors closed, and immediately, all his senses sharpened.
His memory flashed back to a night of fiery sex in a London hotel with a strange redhead who had haunted his dreams and dominated his thoughts ever since. It had been passionate and unbridled, and she had also been a virgin. He swore as the doors closed, trapping him with a memory that only deepened his uncharacteristically bad mood. He couldn't bear the fact that those green eyes continued to haunt him, and that, despite the alcohol left in his system, his blood boiled at the memory and a surge of desire gripped him inside.

– Maledizione.

He never thought about a woman after the affair, and the encounter with the redhead had been two months ago. He clenched his fists. This wasn't the time to let the memory of an insignificant night confuse him. He had to focus on what was at hand; he couldn't allow Celebrity Spy! gossip to jeopardize one of the most important operations of his life or harm the work of the charity he was helping to fund. However, he also wasn't about to let Benjamin Carter tell him what to do. He had no desire to settle down and get married just to save his reputation. He was sure there had to be another way, and he would find it.

Then the elevator door opened, and he entered his office after catching a whiff of perfume. His head was aching from drinking too much whiskey the night before, and he was in a foul mood about the situation with the operation. His secretary stood up briskly when she saw him, but didn't offer him the usual courtesies. He didn't have the energy to be pleasant; he just wanted silence and coffee, black and very strong.