Two strangers. One chance meeting. Irresistible heat. My two-timing ex might have wrecked our relationship, but I was not about to let him ruin my vacation. Sure, what was meant to be a romantic romp through Paris would now consist of dining solo at a table for two in the city of love, but I was determined to have a good time on my own. Then I met Chris. He's a hot megawatt movie star used to the limelight and women lining up for him. And even though I refused to be one of them, I was done in by him—the dark swoony eyes, his unabashed laugh, the cravings he ignited with only a look. We agreed to give each other two weeks. Then real life would kick in. But is two weeks enough when it might be love?