Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star

My sister-in-law didn't want me to marry for love.

She wanted me to marry rich-so she could turn my husband into her personal ATM.

So I did the one thing guaranteed to ruin all her plans.

I got myself a broke hockey player.

At least, that's what everyone was supposed to believe.

Beckett Hayes needed a girlfriend badly. The Chicago hockey star had a reputation problem, angry sponsors, and too many headlines painting him as arrogant, reckless, and impossible to settle down. I needed a man convincing enough to stop my family from arranging my future for me.

Our solution was simple: fake date.

His rules were even simpler. Live in his shabby apartment. Help sell the struggling-player act. Smile for the cameras. No real feelings.

Easy.

Until my family showed up to mock the "loser" I'd chosen-and Beckett stepped between us like they had insulted something that belonged to him.

Until he put a no-limit black card in my hand and told me to stop sacrificing my dream of becoming an artist just because I was afraid to spend money.

Until our fake dinners started feeling domestic, his hand started finding mine under the table, and I began forgetting that every protective look and possessive touch was supposed to be part of the contract.

Then Beckett's grandfather arrived at our tiny apartment wearing cashmere, flanked by bodyguards, carrying a priceless Hayes family heirloom for me.

Apparently, pretending to be broke was the easy part.

Pretending I wasn't falling for my fake boyfriend was becoming impossible.

Especially when his grandfather took our only bedroom and left Beckett and me with one pullout sofa, one night, and absolutely nowhere left to hide.