The first time I met Chase Parker, I didn’t exactly make a good impression. I was hiding in the bathroom hallway of a restaurant, leaving a message for my best friend to save me from my awful date. He overheard and told me I was a bitch, then proceeded to offer me some dating advice. So I told him to mind his own damn business—his own tall, gorgeous, full-of-himself damn business—and went back to my miserable date. When he walked by my table, he smirked, and I watched his arrogant, sexy ass walk back to his date. I couldn’t help but sneak hidden glances at the condescend...

Marry the girl I’ve had a crush on my whole life? Check. Inherit a hundred-billion-dollar company? Check. Produce an heir… Wait, what? I have ninety days to knock up my brand-new fake wife. There’s only one problem—she hates my guts. And in the fine print of the contract? The requirement that we produce an heir. She can’t stand to be in the same room with me. Says she’ll never be in my bed. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge and I’m not about to start now. Mark my words—I’ll have her begging for me, and it won’t take ninety days. On the he...