"I have a proposition for you." Kacey should have run the minute those words left Seattle millionaire Jake Titus's mouth. It's been years since Kacey's seen her childhood friend Jake, but the minute Jake mentions his ill grandmother, Kacey is ready to do anything for the sweet old woman. And if that means pretending they're engaged for her sake-so be it.
But Kacey wasn't counting on Jake's older brother Travis still being there. She calls him "Satan" for a reason: she's never forgotten the way he teased and taunted her. Yet when they meet again, Travis's gorgeous smile is a direct hit to her heart . . . and Kacey's more confused than ever. As the days pass, only one thing starts to become alarmingly clear-she never should have accepted Jake's deal . . .
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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
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“You’re pregnant!” she shouted, nearly dropping her tea to the floor. “Oh my heavens! Oh dear me. Oh, Grandma’s going to be so delighted!”
“I’m not—” Kacey argued.
“She’s not telling anyone yet,” Travis interrupted with a devilish smirk. “You know, the media and all that.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” Bets scurried around the room until she finally stopped in front of a few shelves. “Oh honey, don’t you remember when you and Jake used to play house? And Travis…” Bets looked at Travis and pointed. “Didn’t you play with them? Because they needed an extra person to stand in for the…”
“Dog.” Kacey smiled at Travis and stifled a giggle. “He was our dog when we played house.”
“Oh, how nice.” Bets winked at Travis and returned to digging out scrapbooks. “I’m sure I have some pictures we can use for the wedding.”
Kacey, still trying to gain control of her panic, swallowed before asking, “Why do we need pictures?”
“You know.” Bets waved her hand in the air. “For the video montage! You have to have a video montage! They’re all the rage. You know, baby pictures, prom pictures, that sort of thing. Guests love it!”
“But what about Vegas?” Kacey asked in a hopeful voice.
“Posh.” Bets shook her head vigorously. “We’ll pay for the entire thing. And you’ll get married here, at Titus Abbey.”
“Swell,” Kacey mumbled, then glared in Travis’s direction. He was gone. She leaned across the sofa and noticed him in the kitchen opening a beer. Oh, nectar of the gods! Just when she needed something strong the most, and Jake’s family thought she was pregnant.
Oh God. She was going to have to be a closet drinker. She would have to sneak down to the kitchen just to snag some tequila to numb the guilt and pain. His parents were going to kill her, and they would hate her forever. Which meant she actually had to marry Jake and then turn a blind eye to his inability to keep his pecker in his pants. And then she’d start hoarding and buying cats in order to fill the void in her life.
The drinking would get worse. Jake would hate her, and in a final desperate attempt to regain her youth, she’d die on the table trying to get plastic surgery.
This. Could. Not. Happen!
“I, uh, I’m going to see what Travis is up to!” Kacey bolted from her chair and ran into the kitchen.