In her past life, Emily Stanton was strangled to death by her own husband!
Reborn on her twentieth birthday—the very day she was supposed to marry Elliott Rhodes—Emily Stanton did the unthinkable: she fled the wedding!
Scaling the wall in her escape, she tumbled straight into the arms of her sworn rival, Dylan Maxfield.
The wealthy playboy arched a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Throwing yourself at me now?"
Emily yanked him closer, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. "How about it, Mr. Maxfield? Give me a chance to become Mrs. Maxfield?"
Dylan, ever the provocateur, feigned disinterest. "Crashing weddings isn’t my style. Though I wouldn’t mind sneaking off to the woods with you for some... excitement."
Emily: "..."
In the end, it was Dylan who found himself cornered against a wall, his tie gripped tightly in Emily’s fist as she dragged him straight to the courthouse for a marriage license.
Emily grinned. "Rumor has it Dylan Maxfield has three irresistible qualities—a voice like velvet, a face carved by the gods, and a body to die for. Marry him, and happiness is guaranteed!"
Dylan’s lips curved into a dangerously charming smile. "Careful, sweetheart. I don’t take teasing lightly. Once you’ve got me, there’s no running away."
Run?
Not a chance. She’d have him wrapped around her finger—completely and utterly.
What’s it like marrying your nemesis?
Some things are better *felt* than explained. Just spoil each other rotten—until death do you part!
