Samantha Lytton is either going to end up in jail or famous. Maybe both. Samantha, a semi-enthusiastic secretary, is getting along just fine. So what if her big Los Angeles acting career peaked at a pickle commercial, her love life is a grislier remake of Titanic, and dinner every night features Pizza Rolls. Life is great and fabulous and not terrible at all, okay? Things start to look up when a hot accountant with the cutest dimple in the world maneuvers her into her boss's office for a little hanky-panky. Except his version of hanky-panky is stealing a priceless Picasso and some light kidnapping. Samantha gets away, kidnaps him back--thank you very much--and finally figures out this guy isn't an accountant, or an F.B.I. agent like he said. His name is Nick--or Sam, maybe--and he's a freaking international art thief. And she's one dead wannabe-actress if they can't get the bad guys to stop shooting at them. Samantha should hate Nick/Sam, but he's sexy, funny, and can square dance better than anyone ought to in such tight pants. How can any self-respecting woman fall for a man whose name she doesn't know? Easy. He opens his not-so-wicked heart and ruins her life in the best way possible. Between dodging criminals, Samantha learns that finding happily ever after with yourself is the first step to real contentment. A cute dimple is just the second.
The Dimple of Doom
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