In the chilly mountains of northern Maine, fierce desire is scorching the winter nights and melting the snow caps. Brooke: As the lowest person on the newsroom's totem pole, I have a plan - track down a reclusive billionaire and snap his photo. Better yet, get an interview. My depleted bank account will thank me. I know better than to become part of the story. So, why am I considering steamy nights with this stranger in his luxurious mountain hideaway? Jordan: I know a snooping, venomous reporter when I see one, even if she's a copper-haired goddess with enormous, cocoa-colored eyes and a lush mouth. More deceptive than the others, and therefore more dangerous, this one needs to be taught a lesson. I'll give her that private interview and a whole lot more. Maybe I'll be the one taking pictures. When a media maelstrom shreds their tenuous truce, an avalanche of deceit creates a chasm between them - painfully wide and apparently impassable. Will the glare of flashing cameras blind Brooke and Jordan to the billion starry nights awaiting them?