His Rival, Her Redemption

From the back cover

It was my ninety-ninth wedding day with Mark Johnson, ten years of my life waiting, and I stood on the cold stone steps of City Hall, my simple white dress already damp.

My phone rang. It was him. "Olivia, I can't make it today." He was ditching our wedding, our ninety-ninth attempt, for a limited edition Chronos watch for his mistress, Sarah Miller.

The rain soaked into my hair, my dress, my soul. He hung up. My bouquet of white roses scattered on the wet pavement. Ten years. Ninety-nine broken promises. I had put so many projects on hold for him, for a future he never intended to build.

A wave of cold fury washed over me. "He's not coming, is he?" A deep, smooth voice asked. Liam Black, Mark's biggest business rival, stood under a large black umbrella.

I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "I've had enough proposals for one lifetime." He looked at me, a flicker of something I couldn't read in his cool, intelligent gray eyes. "Marry me instead," he said.

I stared. He was honest. It was business. A power play. And I was tired of being a pawn in Mark's game. "You want to marry me to piss off Mark?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "And you need an escape. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement." My voice tasted like freedom. "Okay, let's get married."