Would you marry the most arrogant man you’ve ever met for a million dollars? James Marrying one of the richest, most eligible bachelors in New Zealand sounds like something out of a fairy tale, right? What girl could possibly say no if I proposed? Aroha Wihongi, that’s who. Marriage has never been high on my list of priorities, but my sister’s recent death has literally left me holding the baby—my three-month-old niece. Although having kids wasn’t on my list either, I have no intention of letting her absentee, alcoholic lowlife of a father within a mile of her. My lawyer says my chances of adopting her will improve vastly if I can ditch my reputation as a womanizer and stand before the court a respectable married man. So I’ve bought the ring, and now all I need is the right girl. Aroha’s perfect. She’s a nanny, so she’ll be able to look after my niece, because, let’s face it, I don’t know the first thing about babies. And she’s gorgeous, so nobody will have trouble believing that I fell in love at first sight and proposed immediately. Unfortunately, though, I’m not her favorite person, having dozed off while making out with her after we got drunk at a Christmas party. When I get down on one knee, she tells me to shove the ring where the sun doesn’t shine. But I remind her that I’m offering a business proposition. She’ll have to live with me, and outwardly, for the court, we’ll need to pretend to be madly in love. But at home we’ll have separate bedrooms, and after I get custody of my niece, we can start the two-year separation that we’ll need in order to divorce. She’ll get six months or so of living in my mansion, visiting five-star hotels, and eating in top restaurants. I’ll even buy her a brand-new Range Rover. I know her family is desperate for money, so I add a little something to sweeten the deal. One million dollars in exchange for a ring on her finger. Surely she won’t say no to that?