She fears the dark.
He rules it.

Her dresses are too tight, her heels too tall. She laughs too loudly, eats without decorum, and mixes up most sayings in the book. Little do most know it's just a sparkly disguise, there to hide one panic attack at a time.

Nobody can crack Gianna's facade . . . no one anyway, until he comes along.

Most see a paragon of morality; a special agent upholding the law. In the New York underworld, others know him as a hustler, a killer, his nature as cold as the heart of ice in his chest. Christian Allister has always followed the life plan he'd envisioned in his youth, beneath the harsh lights of a frigid, damp cell. With a proclivity for order and the number three, he's never been tempted to veer off course. But perhaps one should never say never . . .

One winter night and their lives intertwine. She hates him—his stone-cold demeanor, his arrogance and too-perceptive eye—but over the years, even as their games consist of insulting each other's looks and intelligence, she begins to live to play with him.

Nowhere in Christian's plans had he ever prepared for Gianna. She's chaos embodied, not his type, and married, but none of that can stop his eyes from following her wherever she goes.

All along, she doesn't even know that she's his—his frustration, his fascination.

His maddest obsession.