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Iowa. There was just something about Ireland and the people that called to her, and she wasn’t ready to leave yet. Hopefully, she’d find a nice Irish guy who would treat her the way her father treated her mother, with kindness, respect, and endless love. Her biological father, on the other hand, was a dick who’d left his pregnant woman stranded in a foreign country while he ran off with a neighbor. If her biological dad was the perfect example of being a world-class asshole, her adoptive father was the polar opposite. He was like a living, breathing John Wayne, country-tough and about as masculine as a man could get with a no-drama, no-bullshit attitude. He’d taken care of Jessica and her mother, spoiling and protecting them in his own quiet way, giving his love freely with both deeds and words. She was totally her Daddy’s little girl, and his death had rocked her to the core, making her realize how much she’d depended on him and her mom for everything. Then, when her mother died later, she’d thought for sure she’d slipped into such a deep depression that she’d never get out.
    It was during the darkest time that a bit of light came into her life in the form of a phone call from a man who’d identified himself as Peter Cleary, her uncle. After the revelation that she did indeed have living blood relatives, she’d cried until she passed out, relieved that she would get a chance to know who she was and what kind of history she had flowing in her veins, who she looked like. That she wasn’t alone. She later learned that her birth mother, Katie fled to The United States with a boy her family did not approve of. Jessica’s biological father had also died, and she wondered how she had the bad luck to end up with two sets of dead parents. Her biological father had been an only child, and there were no other living relatives left on her father’s side.
    Her uncle’s voice came from the stairway, and someone laughed in a deep rumbling tone. She watched the stairs, interested to see if the man’s face matched his sexy chuckle. Maybe she just needed some good, old-fashioned down-and-dirty sex to get her out of her rut. It would be nice to have a man at her side as she wandered around and explored the city. Someone who was smart and could entertain her with tales of the different historic buildings. A man with big hands and an even bigger cock was just what the doctor ordered.
    Sheesh, she needed to get laid.
    At the sight of Alex smiling at her uncle, she inwardly groaned and wanted to bang her head on the bar. When he was out of sight, it was easy to dismiss just how mesmerizing he was, how tempting. Why hadn’t she gone home when she had the chance? The more she thought about Alex, the more she wanted him, and that could not happen. She loathed womanizers. Her first serious boyfriend had cheated on her, and the fact that her birth father had abandoned her mother for another woman only deepened her disgust with men who treated women like objects to use and discard at whim.
    Casual sex was all good and fun as long as both parties knew not to involve their hearts. Heck, she’d had her fair share of casual hookups in school and on spring break. She’d heard Alex had no heart, and he loved to make women fall in love with him then leave them high and dry, breaking up with them for no reason other than he was done playing his games.
    What a sick asshole.
    A shiver of revulsion chased back the desire that had flared at the sight of Alex, and she turned back to the bar, wondering if she should just chug her beer and make a run for it before he noticed her.
    “Jessica,” her uncle called out in a loud voice, “I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Alexandr Gorev.”
    She tried to assume a polite, bored expression then turned around. At the sight of Alex’s smirking lips—lips she wanted to suck and nibble on—her determination not to like him flared to life. No, she would not be turned on by the mere