"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or does it?
Okay, let me explain. I broke into my crush’s dressing room to sniff his tights (not in a pervy way, I swear!) and got busted while, um... you get the idea. He then kind of, sort of blackmailed me into agreeing to a fake green card marriage with him. But hey, I’m not complaining.
Next thing I know, we’re on a flight to Vegas to make our friends and family think we had a crazy drunken night and, in the spur of the moment, tied the knot. Except… that’s exactly what happens. (Thanks a lot, vodka.)
Considering that he’s the most desirable ballet dancer in New York City and I’m a garage-dwelling secret blogger with a major sweet tooth, there’s no way this marriage could ever become real. Not to mention my totally crazy family and my aversion to every smell under the sun—except his.
All I can hope for is to not fall in love with my husband. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?"
"A daredevil prince wants to pay me mega-bucks to train him to hold his breath underwater for 10 minutes? Sign me up.
Except I’m a magician, not a stunt consultant. My record-beating dive without air was a trick. Of course, I can’t tell that to my client, the royally hot Anatolio Cezaroff, a.k.a. Tigger. Not if I want to be able to pay my rent.
Also, I’m not exactly comfortable around germs. All germs, including those lurking on uber-attractive men. So falling for my gorgeous client is out of the question, and I fully intend to keep my distance.
That is, until he offers to train me in bed."
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