MORE THAN HATE YOU

I seduced my rival for a deal. Now I’ll do anything to claim her for good. I’m Sebastian Shaw—CFO, pragmatist, and moneymaker. I’ve mismanaged love in the past, but when it comes to business, I’m pure shark, able to cut down any threat to my success…except Sloan O’Neill. We’re vying for the same major client, so I do what any self-respecting cutthroat does to gain the upper hand: spy on the ball-busting piece of work. She may be gorgeous and unnervingly clever, but I have skills. My gutsy hourglass-shaped roadblock doesn’t stand a chance. Until I realize I’m falling for her. Suddenly, everything from my objectives to my morals is cloudy. Stay loyal to my best friend and boss to win this critical client at any cost…or give my heart another chance? But the more time I spend with my redheaded adversary, the more I realize she’s not just ambitious but kind, vulnerable…and perfect for me. Sloan has no idea how far I’ll go to make her mine—but she’s about to find out. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "One of my top 5 of the year. I couldn’t put this book down. This crazy, intense, sexy book will keep you on your toes and the pages turning from start to finish.” – Goodreads Reviewer **More Than Hate You is part of the Ruthless Devotion Contemporary Romance series, but every book can be read as a standalone. A HOT, romantic story with strong language, sexy times, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after!** ✔️ Instant download • Secure transactions • Read on any device Series: Ruthless Devotion Main Characters: Sebastian & Sloan Formats: eBook, trade paperback Word Count: 79k Page Count: 278 pages Prior Reading Necessary? No Tropes: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Insta-love, Marriage of Convenience, Revenge, Sudden/Forced Marriage, Temporary Fling, Virgin, Workplace Romance 🔥 Inside MORE THAN HATE YOU 🔥 “What’s up, buddy?” I ask, answering Evan’s call. “You there, Bas? Make contact with Sloan yet?” “Trying to.” “Wine her. Dine her. Recline her—whatever it takes to find out who her spies are. If someone under our roof is providing our competitors information about our Wynam campaign, we need to deal with them ASAP.” That’s the cover story I gave Evan to explain my impromptu trip to Dallas. Sloan has information about our pitch that she shouldn’t, and I have no idea how she got it…but she might be willing to tell me face to face. Evan was all for getting to the bottom of the guilty party’s identity, which made talking him into this trip simple. But we really do need to know, so in one ten-minute conversation, I doubled my number of mission objectives. It’s fine. I’ll handle it. Once I find Sloan. “On it. Hey, I’m checking in. I’ve got to go.” “If you get something soon, call me. I’ve got another six hours before I head to London.” “Will do,” I say, hoping that’s a promise I can keep. Minutes later, the clerk directs me to sign an electronic pen pad, then hands me my room key. “Your room is on the eighth floor. You have a great view of the city. Enjoy your stay.” Normally, I would. Dallas has good food and decent people. Now I’m too ratcheted up to care. “Thanks.” As I make my way toward the bank of elevators, my phone rings. It’s Sloan. Finally. “Talk to me,” I growl into the device. “I can’t,” she whispers. “I got your messages. Shane is suspicious. He’s suddenly assigned me to a task. I don’t know what to think…” The fact it’s so last minute seems fishy. “Sloan, I’m worried about you.” “I have to believe my boss is too squeamish and too lazy to be truly violent.” I hope she’s right…but what if she isn’t? “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” she murmurs into my thoughts. I let out a breath. “How will I know it’s you?” “Oh, right. You’ve never seen me.” I hear the self-deprecation in her voice. “Well, I looked at your picture on your website, so I’ll find you. Gotta go.” She’s gone before I can object. Shit. Normally, I love dirty corporate games, but this is twenty kinds of clusterfuck. I need to start preparing excuses and lies now. All I can think about is Sloan. In fact, maybe it’s time to be honest with myself. I want Sloan—like I’ve rarely ever wanted a woman. For the first time, I’m going to willfully and gleefully cross the sacred line between business and pleasure. There’s something about Sloan—about the way I feel when I talk to her… I need to understand why I’m so hooked. When I wake after a restless night, I grab my phone. My last text from Sloan came around three a.m., joking about being on her second gallon of coffee. I don’t dare text and wake her up now. Hours drag by, and even though it’s a gorgeous day in Dallas and exploring the city is pleasant, the waiting chafes. It’s after noon when my phone finally rings and her name crosses my display. “Sloan?” “Hi. I’m awake and mostly okay. Last night was weird, but I ran across something when Shane sent me to his office to fetch his laptop cord. Well, I searched his office since I was there alone. I didn’t dare take the document last night, and Carissa tells me he and another group have been in the office since noon. She’s pissed she had to come in on a weekend, and they’re running her ragged doing their menial shit. Anyway, once they’re all gone, I’ll tiptoe into the office, grab this smoking gun, and come right to you.” “No.” At the moment, I’m inclined to tell her to fuck the smoking gun. “Come now. We’ll talk about your find and figure out next steps—” “This is really important. I swear. If I don’t grab it… I’m already worried when I go back it will be gone.” “What is it?” “You have to see it to believe it. I’ll be there about ten. Meet me in the bar?” “Let me come with you. I don’t want you running into Shane alone in case he’s still there.” “Jeremy, I can’t. Please. I know what I’m doing. I have a plan. Trust me.” Sloan hasn’t left me much choice. “All right. I’ll see you at ten. If you don’t make it, I’ll come looking for you.” “I’ll be there.” At nine thirty, I head downstairs. People are coming in. It’s not congested yet, but it’s definitely more crowded than last night. I resist the urge—barely—to text Sloan and ask if she’s all right. Hopefully, the boss who fucks and sucks his way through most workdays is too far in his orgasm coma to suspect that she knows anything. Or too wrapped up in his “process emergency” to care about her now. I find a table in a quiet corner and sit to wait. And wait. Texts go unanswered. I start to panic. At ten-thirty, the door from the street opens, bringing a gust of strong wind with it. In walks a redhead in a silky champagne dress that dips off the shoulders, nips in with her tiny waist, then clings to the lush curves of her hips before ending above her knee. She’s wearing a pair of sparkly platforms that wrap around her ankles, lending her petite figure a good four inches of height and making her legs look miles long. Holy shit. She stops in the middle of the dimly lit bar and scans the room, looking for someone. Me? On autopilot, I make my way to her, every hair on my body standing up and every inch of my skin tingling. “Sloan?” I drag my gaze up from her pert ass in time to see her whirl around to me, rosy lips slightly parted and a blazing curl cupping the side of one softly rounded breast. I swallow. One look at her…and I’m in deep trouble. “Jeremy?” “Yeah.” I hate lying, and before I leave town, I’m going to tell her my name. Now just isn’t the time. “You okay?” She nods. “Fine.” Close call. “Thankfully. I’m glad you’re here. You look…” “Tired. I know. I’m definitely feeling the effects of pulling an all-nighter.” Is she kidding? “I was going to say gorgeous.” I can’t stop staring at her. She’s about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you.” “You, too.” She sticks out her hand, then retracts it with a laugh. “A handshake feels weird since I know you so much better than that.” True, but I don’t want to make Sloan. “It does.” “I’m a hugger.” She bites her lip, looking my way with eyes like a hazy blue day and a pouty mouth I’m dying to taste. “Is that all right?” “That’s great.” I try not to sound lecherously enthusiastic as I open my arms. She sends me a soft smile and walks right in. Then I’m holding her tighter than is strictly polite, but she doesn’t complain. In fact, she wraps her arms around my neck, puts her head on my chest, and sighs into me. “This will probably sound crazy, but I needed this. I feel safer already.” “Not crazy. I feel better, too.” A few moments pass, and neither of us speaks. I grip her. She clings. Together, we breathe. I inhale her hint-of-strawberry scent. It makes me hard. I exhale lust, watching with excitement as she closes her eyes, nestling her cheek against my chest, and breathes it in. Fuck. We’re fully dressed and standing in the middle of a crowded public space, and I’m already more aroused—and invested—in Sloan than the last half-dozen women I took to bed. Never mind being in trouble. I’m toast. 📚 Start reading now