She hires a fake husband. I show up instead. Merry freaking Christmas to me.

Mia Davis opens the door in a cream sweater, a pencil skirt, and the kind of smile that could ruin a man.

Namely me, her neighbor, a bored billionaire looking for a little New York trouble.
After weeks of watching her from across the street I finally have an excuse to knock. I’m delivering her mail.
Five minutes later, she mistakes me for the escort she hired to play her fake husband for Christmas.

I try to tell her the truth. Really.
But then she starts asking questions that have me blushing like a kid and hard as stone.

She’s sweet, stubborn, and still saving herself for the right man,
which definitely isn’t supposed to be me.

Now we’re “rehearsing” kisses for realism,
sharing cocoa, secrets, and one dangerously small bed.
I can’t tell where the lie ends or the wanting begins.

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