I never wanted to get married.
Until the night my life went up in flames, and Ryker Beneventi walked into the fire to save me.
The Philadelphia Kings’ scorching hot defensive end has a tendency of doing that . . .
Protecting me is instinct.
Marrying me is strategy.
Calling me “his wife” . . . That’s for fun.
One carefully crafted press release later, and I’m standing beside the most photographed man in football, wearing a diamond I didn’t choose, and bearing a last name revered in this town.
It’s supposed to be temporary.
A clean solution to a messy problem.
But nothing about our marriage is as it seems.
Because somewhere between the locked doors and late nights, the lines between love and legacy blur. Until the only thing left more terrifying than the night that forced us together . . .
Is how scared I am to walk away.