Yaima

Marry him…or end up broke. It was an obvious choice for me. Marry me…or lose an entire lifetime’s work. The choice was pretty obvious for him too. Never in a million years did I think that I’d be flying to Vegas. Not to get drunk. Not for a bachelorette party. But to get fake married to the man every woman on the planet wants. He’s hot, he’s smart, he’s everything except for my real husband.

Lulu Sonnet is the bane of my existence. She’s caused me more physical pain than any man should ever endure. From an accidental throat punch to a near death by shovel—Don’t even get me started on that vicious pool ball accident where she almost robbed me of my family jewels. She’s a hot little heathen, and what’s worse? She’s staying in my brother’s rental house while I’m temporarily living in the guest house. And now she needs a favor. A fake boyfriend.

Our first meeting was at a nightclub, and it was something straight out of my most romantic fantasies. My ovaries exploded at the sight of the Russian God. And by God, I mean he was ripped, tall, dark, and deadly attractive. There were enough sparks between us to light up a city. Then an explosion blasted through the nightclub, and we got trapped together for three hours, sharing our most personal details...everything but our names. Two years later, our second meeting is the complete opposite of the first. It's clear Misha Petrov, a Russian enforcer for the bratva, despises me.

Saylor Woodson is the one girl I can’t have, and the only girl I want. She’s my best friend’s little sister, and completely off limits. We have a history, a connection—one that no one else knows about. One that I’ve tried hard to forget. I've kept my distance for years, which was easy because she’d been away at school. But now she’s home, and she’s everywhere I turn. And the way that I want her is unexplainable.