I hate Ripley Brewer. So, why am I cuddling on his lap, peering into his ocean-blue eyes while cameras record our every move? My best friend needs my help to save her career, and I would do anything for her. Besides, filming a reality show sounds fun … until Ripley shows up to play the role of my fake boyfriend. As always, we nearly come to blows within minutes of seeing each other. The playboy billionaire accuses me of a setup, but I insist I'd rather live in a world without carbs than spend a minute with him. At some point during the melee, we sign contracts. I can't stand the look of his six feet two inches of chiseled abs and broad shoulders. And I loathe his arrogance. But now that he's my pretend beau, I'm stuck acting like I'm falling in love with my biggest enemy. It turns out that Ripley's a good actor, too. Every soft touch on the small of my back makes my heart thump faster. His sultry smirk feels like it's only for me. I should detest every word that passes his kissable lips.
