I knew my ex-boyfriend’s brother was off-limits.
Now I’m stuck pretending to be this damaged billionaire’s fake fiancée.
Avoiding Christian Sanchester was so much simpler before I came back to Miami.
Fake-dating the groom’s best man for a month without falling in love? Easiest bet I ever won.
Or it would’ve been — if his mother hadn’t told everyone we’re engaged.
Behind the scenes, his jealous outbursts have us at each other’s throats 24/7.
Broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw can’t make up for his possessive streak, but I’d be kidding myself if I said he wasn’t . . . tantalizing.
