HE NEEDED A WIFE. AND HE NEEDED HER TONIGHT, IF NOT SOONER. Enter Zara Lovett. His ex-fiancée's best friend. Her hair was a spill of honeyed silk framing on whiskey eyes. Zara, who'd strode into Alex Carlisle's life on killer legs and lit up a powder keg in his gut. It was chemistry, the kind of powerful, explosive mix Alex made a habit of avoiding—until today. Because the fireworks between them changed nothing. He still needed to satisfy the terms of his father's will. That was his goal. That was his duty. That was what mattered. And he'd make sure Zara said yes.