So we’re engaged. Sort of.
He just needs his family to think it’s real.
No problem. I’ll play along. How hard can it be?
But pretending isn’t supposed to feel this good.
And now I can’t help wanting him for real.
My old roommate used to help me pay the rent. Now the only roommate I have is my orange tabby, and despite everything I’ve done for him, that jerk has never paid me a cent.
So when my landlord knocks on my door, I brace myself for an eviction.
Instead, he makes me an offer. I can stay for free, as long as I pretend to be his fiancée. He says it’ll make his sick mom happy.
Raphael Holt is wealthy, handsome and has dazzling green eyes that makes me want things I don’t even understand. He lights an unfamiliar fire inside me.
So I say yes.
But none of this is real. There’s no way someone like him could actually want to be with a penniless virgin like me. Not when he could take his pick from any of the single girls in the city.
I’d only get my heart broken if I believe any of this is real. And I might lose my home, too.
So I’ll play along. I’ll be the perfect fake fiancée and nothing more.
I can resist that cocky smirk, that lustful stare, and that dirty mouth. I can ignore the way his deep voice sends a chill down my arms every time he says my name. Of course I can.
