That's pretty much where my bio ends. Honestly, I don't need to say anything else. I've just sold 99% of women on going home with me. Do I sound like a jerk to you? That's because I am. And guess what? It works for me just fine. Or at least it did. Until I met her. Books talk about sparks flying. Screw that. With her, it was like emergency flares mixed with jet fuel. Or maybe just straight up napalm. Only one problem. She wouldn't tell me her name or her number when she disappeared from the hotel room after the hottest night of my life. Now I've had a taste of the perfect woman and I need it again. So what's a jerk to do? I took this problem to the street. A missed connection gone viral. And when I find her? I'm keeping her.

    But eight months later, the free-spirited half-French musician still hasn't made any promises about their future. And as magnifique as long-distance phone sex is, nothing compares to the real thing.Fed up with stolen weekends and lonely nights, Mia flies to New York armed with a list of reasons why they should take the next step, but an unexpected guest in Lucas's apartment derails her plans. He’s been keeping secrets--worse, he claims he's happy with the way things are.Without the magic of Paris, can their mismatched love survive?