We skipped right over the whole fiancée thing and went straight from girlfriend to wife.
At least, I think that’s what happened. I woke up after my brother’s Vegas wedding reception with my luscious girlfriend in bed with me. We’re both wearing wedding rings.
So is her coworker, Josh.
And our Vegas chauffeur, Geordi.
Who the hell am I married to?
Unraveling this mystery will be as difficult as figuring out why Amanda and I are having panic attacks over the thought of being husband and wife.
Or, whoever we’re actually married to.
Oh, ^%$#.
It’s true that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, with one exception:
If she’s my wife, we’ll make it work.
If she’s not?
I’ll make it happen.
Get the 9th book in Julia Kent's New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series as Andrew and Amanda sort out their wild Vegas night...and the rest of their lives.
At least, I think that’s what happened. I woke up after my brother’s Vegas wedding reception with my luscious girlfriend in bed with me. We’re both wearing wedding rings.
So is her coworker, Josh.
And our Vegas chauffeur, Geordi.
Who the hell am I married to?
Unraveling this mystery will be as difficult as figuring out why Amanda and I are having panic attacks over the thought of being husband and wife.
Or, whoever we’re actually married to.
Oh, ^%$#.
It’s true that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, with one exception:
If she’s my wife, we’ll make it work.
If she’s not?
I’ll make it happen.
Get the 9th book in Julia Kent's New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series as Andrew and Amanda sort out their wild Vegas night...and the rest of their lives.
Get your hands on SHOPPING FOR A CEO'S FIANCEE now:
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Want to catch up on the series?
Grab the first installment, Shopping for a Billionaire: The Collection, now:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play
Excerpt
“The day we met, you were wearing a long, gray pencil skirt that hugged your hips like a treasure map for my palms. The slit up the back was a portal into another world. Red silk shirt under a black blazer, and your lips matched the silk. I wondered if you were wearing a red lace bra underneath.”
She’s spellbound, eyes watching me as if my words hypnotize her. “I was,” she rasps.
I knew it. “You were the epitome of ‘fuckable secretary’ from every fevered fantasy I’ve ever had.”
“You really are a pervert.”
I shrug.
“Hey, if we’re telling the truth...” I pause. “But I don’t have those fantasies about my secretaries.”
“Right.” She’s skeptical.
“I haven’t. Not since the day we met.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’ve ruined masturbation for me. I can’t even cheat in my mind.”
“You’re such a romantic.”
“I quoted Dickinson to you on our first date!”
She makes a gesture of concession. “Go on.”
“Red silk shell and black blazer. With the black hair and red lips, you had the look down. That day I looked up, expecting to just glance at the client’s staff, shake hands, and sit down for the boring but necessary details before signing the deal. That’s not what happened, though. I did a double take.”
“My breasts made you do that,” she says with a soft laugh.
“No.” I reach for her chin and lift it up until she can’t look away from me. “You did that. You.”
She sighs and smiles, nice and wide.
“Your breasts were just the closer,” I add, flinching, ready for the punch that I know follows.
The kiss surprises me, a welcome substitute for the punch I deserve.
About Julia Kent
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.