I've made a deal with the devil . . .
Things that weren't on my wedding planning to-do list:
[*] Have a bachelorette party in Vegas. I'm a master's student in classic literature, not a party girl.
[*] Let my girlfriends convince me to go out anyway . . .
[*] Get drunk. Too drunk.
[*] Wake up married-to the wrong guy.
Now it's my wedding day and I don't remember marrying the sexy billionaire lying in the bed next to me or getting the tattoo on my arm. It doesn't matter that he's as hot as hell-I'm not about to go along with wedding vows I have no memory of.
But my new husband seems convinced we're meant to be together. He tells me my life is in danger and I'm safest with him. That the fate of the world depends on it.
I say I need to leave. Now.
Then he kisses me, and his lips are like fire.
It's one HELL of a kiss.
Looks like I'm not going anywhere after all. Or more likely, I'm headed straight to hell . . .
