It was a deal made in the boardroom and sealed in the bedroom. It all seems so simple: pretend to be his fianceé, his company share prices stabilize, and everyone wins. It’s all just for show. So why does he keep kissing me? And why do I let him? Grant Devlin is the bane of my existence — not the man of my dreams. But now the lines are getting blurred, and between the kissing and the champagne (and did I mention the kissing?) I’m getting way too comfortable as the future Mrs Devlin. Something’s got to give, and it better not be my self-control…