(C) 2019 A.M. Madden & Joanne Schwehm

I looked up to see my assailant staring down at me in shock, her fists poised and ready to go another round. What the hell?

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay where you are. I’m calling the police.” If I hadn’t already been on my knees, her sexy-as-fuck accent and hot little body would have brought me there.

Stumbling to my feet and bracing myself for her to unleash more unearned violence, I put my hand up. “Look, you psycho, I don’t know who you are, but you need to relax. I’m staying here.” She flipped the light switch next to the door. My pupils contracted at the bright intrusion.

My nemesis was a gorgeous little thing. Her raven locks draped over her shoulders as she drilled into me with mesmerizing dark-brown eyes. It took a second or two for me to place the face with a name.

“I’m Colton Teller.” She tilted her head like a cute puppy trying to understand its master. Eyes that were narrowed slits widened into saucers. “And my guess is you’re Gianna Benedetto. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but . . .” At the sight of me pressing my palm to the spot she’d clocked, a tiny bit of remorse flitted through her expression.

The beauty in front of me had been my research project on the plane ride to New York. Young and sassy would be the perfect way to describe her. She used social media to gain followers and sponsorships for products. Although not much older than her, I was old school and took the standard advertising approach, which had little or nothing to do with social media. In fact, I despised it, where Gianna apparently lived for it.

Rather than flip out, she cracked open the bottle of water in her left hand and took a healthy swig, ignoring the fact that my left cheek felt like it had grown to twice its normal size. The crazy ninja who’d attacked me disappeared, and in her place was a calm, beautiful brunette who wanted nothing to do with me. Couldn’t say that I blamed her. We were vying for the same client, and if she knew anything about me, she didn’t stand a chance.

After a weighted pause she straightened her spine. “I know who you are, and you’re most certainly not staying here.”

Beautiful and headstrong . . . two of my favorite qualities in a woman.

“Listen, Gianna. May I call you that?” I asked, earning me a silent nod. “It appears that Elite Motors put us both up in the same place, making us roommates. You’re welcome to change locations. Unless, of course, you’d like to bail out of the pitch session altogether, because it’s most likely a waste of your time anyway.”

Gianna gave me a smile that almost knocked me back onto the hardwood floor. “Look, Mr.Teller,” she said, emphasizing my last name enough to earn her a crooked smirk. “The only person who will be wasting their time is you. You and I will not be staying in the same home. I suggest you call yourself a cab and go to a hotel.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Where I’m going is upstairs. Now . . .” I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day, and I’d like to go to my room. Either you can tell me which one is yours or I’ll take my best guess.”

Her gorgeous mouth dropped open, and before I could tell her what she could do with those perfectly plump lips, she said, “The first room on the right is mine.”

“See, that wasn’t too difficult. I’ll see you in the morning.” That glare she favored appeared again. “Sweet dreams, Gianna.”

As I took the steps up to my room, the sassy Italian beauty mumbled something in her native tongue, bringing a smile to my face. Something told me having Gianna Benedetto not only as an adversary but also as a roommate would prove to be very interesting.