I'm no Prince Charming, and the last thing I want is a Cinderella.
My instructions were simple: scour the city for a fake fiancée who's not my type at all. Have her on my jet Monday morning, dressed appropriately for a yacht vacation.
I need a woman believable enough to convince a certain client that I've changed my playboy ways…yet nothing like the supermodels and socialites I usually have on my arm.
Somebody too annoying to tempt me—no emotional entanglements, thank you very much. This is business only.
If she's unfazed by my looks and wealth, all the better.
Should be easy. Right?
Apparently not, because my people go and hire Tabitha. My hairdresser.
What were they thinking? Yes, I said annoying, but I didn't mean her, the most frustrating woman in the world.
Tabitha is sunshiny. She has a pet hamster. She loves Hello Kitty, and she gets under my skin like nobody else.
As if that's not bad enough, the minute we step on deck, she thinks that certain people on the yacht are up to something shady—based completely on her soap opera knowledge.
She won't listen when I tell her she’s being ridiculous.
But as the days go by, I find that we’re actually having fun. And our fake kisses are heating up. And suddenly her wild theories aren't sounding so strange after all…
My instructions were simple: scour the city for a fake fiancée who's not my type at all. Have her on my jet Monday morning, dressed appropriately for a yacht vacation.
I need a woman believable enough to convince a certain client that I've changed my playboy ways…yet nothing like the supermodels and socialites I usually have on my arm.
Somebody too annoying to tempt me—no emotional entanglements, thank you very much. This is business only.
If she's unfazed by my looks and wealth, all the better.
Should be easy. Right?
Apparently not, because my people go and hire Tabitha. My hairdresser.
What were they thinking? Yes, I said annoying, but I didn't mean her, the most frustrating woman in the world.
Tabitha is sunshiny. She has a pet hamster. She loves Hello Kitty, and she gets under my skin like nobody else.
As if that's not bad enough, the minute we step on deck, she thinks that certain people on the yacht are up to something shady—based completely on her soap opera knowledge.
She won't listen when I tell her she’s being ridiculous.
But as the days go by, I find that we’re actually having fun. And our fake kisses are heating up. And suddenly her wild theories aren't sounding so strange after all…
