I've always been a good girl, a rule follower. At least until I started working for billionaire bachelor Knox Crawford. Owner of LA's pro soccer team. And my ex's dad. The more time we spend together, the harder it is to fight our growing attraction. And the easier it is to forget our roles, to ignore the fact that I used to date his son. Sleeping with the boss could get me fired. But sleeping with my ex's dad could tear my life apart. Breaking the rules only seems fun—until you get caught.

I never believed in fate. That was something for the dreamers, the romantics, not someone as practical and pragmatic as I. Fate had nothing to do with me walking in on my soon-to-be husband in a compromising position with his secretary. Fate had nothing to do with me hopping on a plane to Rome, effectively standing up my former fiance on our wedding day. And fate certainly had nothing to do with the handsome stranger sitting across the aisle from me, one who would open my mind and heart to things I never thought possible.

Aurelia Whitlock is an ex-stepsister I forgot long ago. Until she shows up as a design intern at my fashion company. And that's the easy part. The part where she heats my blood, drawing me away from my grumpy, miserable side is another. She has no business being here. The more I learn about how she got this job, the more perilous things become for me and my company. I can't trust her. I can't fire her. And I can't claim her full lips with mine.

Easton Calloway needs a wifey, pronto, and he chooses me to temporarily fill the position. While I want to tell him to eff off, I can't walk away from the temptation. So, I do what any broke actress living in New York City would do, and I agree to the terms and conditions. It should be easy: a year of marriage, a cushy penthouse in the city, and a spending allowance. After three hundred sixty-five days, I'll receive divorce papers and a check in the mail. All I have to do is pretend we're happily married without falling in love.

Two weeks in a tiny house in a small town with the woman who broke my heart. Or was it me who broke hers? It was complicated. And it was about to be a heck of a lot more complicated sharing one bed in the guest room with a woman who wasn’t mine anymore.