I want my childhood home. He wants a fake wife for a month. I lived on a shoe string budget just so I could buy back the house my mother raised me in. That place meant everything to me. A week before I could put down the cash, I found out it's been sold. I should have walked away. Instead I showed up on the doorstep—MY rightful doorstep—planning to do anything to get the house. I wasn't ready to stand toe to toe with Caleb Staunton. Darkly handsome, gorgeous from his hair to his boots, with the ability to make your skin tingle if he stares right at you. Everyone knows his family is rich beyond belief with a reputation for tearing down historical properties. He's my enemy. No question. That's why I'm shocked when he offers me a deal. He'll give me the house... If I pretend to be his wife. One month. That's all he's asking for. And I think I can handle it, keep things business. No flirting. No kissing. I can't give in, because someday I DO want marriage... a real one. This isn't real. I remind myself of that every minute Caleb consumes me with his intoxicating presence. I could never love him or his terrible family. We're total opposites. So why does it feel like we want the same happy ending?