“I’m aware of your feelings for me.”
Three words she can’t stop saying. Ten years she can’t get back. One month to save what’s left. Ready. Set. Divorce.
For a decade, Sienah Cannizzaro has been the perfect Formula One wife. Invisible at parties, flawless at galas, devoted to a husband who sees their marriage as smoothly maintained as his racing team. She’s been his pit crew of one, keeping his life running while he chases championships. She fell for him at nineteen. Now at twenty-nine, she’s done waiting.
Three-time world champion Aivan Cannizzaro has everything timed to the millisecond. Marriage to Sienah? Just another perfectly tuned component in his race to the top. Until his wife says three words that send him spinning off track: “I want out.”
Note: An emotional marriage-in-crisis romance featuring a hero who discovers that the real prize was never on the podium. HEA guaranteed, tissues recommended.
Three-time world champion Aivan Cannizzaro has everything timed to the millisecond. Marriage to Sienah? Just another perfectly tuned component in his race to the top. Until his wife says three words that send him spinning off track: “I want out.”
Note: An emotional marriage-in-crisis romance featuring a hero who discovers that the real prize was never on the podium. HEA guaranteed, tissues recommended.
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EXCERPT
“Sienah.” His voice was different. Neither stiff nor curt like he usually sounded. But just different. “And I think we can dispense with the formalities after all these years, don’t you think?”
“I…” What did one call one’s employer when not employing? “Mr. Cannizzaro?”
His mouth curved slightly. “Aivan.”
Aivan?
Her brain…short-circuited.
It could not comprehend why her master’s son would want him to call him by his first name.
It just didn’t make sense.
“Are you not going to sit down?”
Riiiight.
She wanted to act posh like all the other girls he dated over the years, but she ended up collapsing in the chair he had pulled out because her knees weren’t giving her much choice.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner.”
Oh, she knew. She’d practiced her supportive smile in the mirror until her cheeks hurt. But now that it was time to show that smile she had tried so, so hard to perfect?
Not gonna happen.
All she could do was shake her head while Flavier’s buzzed around them with its usual elegant chaos. Crystal and silver and conversations in three languages. She’d been here dozens of times, but always through the back door. Always invisible. Never sitting at a table that probably cost more to reserve than her mother made in a week.
“My parents have given me an ultimatum.”
Here it comes. The announcement. The name of whichever perfect woman would get to wake up to his face every morning while Sienah changed their sheets.
“If I won’t join the family business—”
Good. He shouldn’t. He was meant to race, not make deals in back rooms. She’d seen enough of that world to know it would destroy the part of him that still smiled real smiles sometimes.
“—they want to make sure I marry a bride of their choice.”
Of course. Strategic marriage. Some ambassador’s daughter or hotel heiress who’d look perfect on his arm at galas. Someone who belonged in his world instead of just cleaning it.
“And you’re on the list.”
Someone accomplished and sophisticated who could discuss wine vintages and…wait.
What?
“You’re on the list,” he repeated, watching her face with that same intense focus he used during qualifying laps.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. She probably looked like a goldfish having an existential crisis, but her brain had completely short-circuited.
“I don’t…w-what list?” Surely she’d misheard. Surely he meant she was on the list of people to help plan the wedding, or the list of staff to notify, or…
“A list of potential brides my father provided.” He pulled out a folded paper and slid it across the table. “Eight names. Yours is number six.”
She stared at the paper like it might bite her. There, in Selena Cannizzaro’s perfect handwriting, between Ingrid and Perlita, was her name.
Sienah Posada.
The housekeeper’s daughter.
On a list of potential wives for Aivan Cannizzaro.
Her first thought was that this had to be a mistake. Her second was that someone was playing an incredibly cruel joke. Her third was…
Oh.
His father wasn’t horrible at all. His father was brilliant. His father was a visionary. His father was basically a matchmaking genius who deserved a medal and possibly sainthood for having the foresight to include her name.
And yet…
“W-Why?” She had to ask this because it just didn’t make sense. The master’s son and the housekeeper’s daughter? Why? How? What for? Was there some twist he had yet to tell her? Some kind of trap that she couldn’t see? There had to be a catch. Right?
“It’s quite simple.” He leaned back, studying her with those dark eyes that had ruined her for all other men before she’d even had a chance to meet any. “I need to marry. You’re on the approved list. And frankly, you’re the only name that doesn’t make me want to drive into a wall.”
How…romantic?
“I’m also going to be blunt.” His gaze locked on hers, and suddenly the restaurant felt too warm. “I’m aware of your feelings for me.”
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
A part of her had always known she had been about as subtle as a neon sign around him, but to hear it said out loud like that?
I think I’m about to die of embarrassment, God.
So please.
Please tell me I’ll still make it to Heaven if so.
“And I want you to know your feelings won’t be disregarded.”
Her heart, which had been somewhere in her stomach, shot straight up to her throat.
What did that even mean?
Was he saying…
Oh dear God, I honestly don’t understand what he’s saying, but I think it sounds…promising?
“So…what do you think?”
“A-About what?”
“Will you marry me?”
“I…” What did one call one’s employer when not employing? “Mr. Cannizzaro?”
His mouth curved slightly. “Aivan.”
Aivan?
Her brain…short-circuited.
It could not comprehend why her master’s son would want him to call him by his first name.
It just didn’t make sense.
“Are you not going to sit down?”
Riiiight.
She wanted to act posh like all the other girls he dated over the years, but she ended up collapsing in the chair he had pulled out because her knees weren’t giving her much choice.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner.”
Oh, she knew. She’d practiced her supportive smile in the mirror until her cheeks hurt. But now that it was time to show that smile she had tried so, so hard to perfect?
Not gonna happen.
All she could do was shake her head while Flavier’s buzzed around them with its usual elegant chaos. Crystal and silver and conversations in three languages. She’d been here dozens of times, but always through the back door. Always invisible. Never sitting at a table that probably cost more to reserve than her mother made in a week.
“My parents have given me an ultimatum.”
Here it comes. The announcement. The name of whichever perfect woman would get to wake up to his face every morning while Sienah changed their sheets.
“If I won’t join the family business—”
Good. He shouldn’t. He was meant to race, not make deals in back rooms. She’d seen enough of that world to know it would destroy the part of him that still smiled real smiles sometimes.
“—they want to make sure I marry a bride of their choice.”
Of course. Strategic marriage. Some ambassador’s daughter or hotel heiress who’d look perfect on his arm at galas. Someone who belonged in his world instead of just cleaning it.
“And you’re on the list.”
Someone accomplished and sophisticated who could discuss wine vintages and…wait.
What?
“You’re on the list,” he repeated, watching her face with that same intense focus he used during qualifying laps.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. She probably looked like a goldfish having an existential crisis, but her brain had completely short-circuited.
“I don’t…w-what list?” Surely she’d misheard. Surely he meant she was on the list of people to help plan the wedding, or the list of staff to notify, or…
“A list of potential brides my father provided.” He pulled out a folded paper and slid it across the table. “Eight names. Yours is number six.”
She stared at the paper like it might bite her. There, in Selena Cannizzaro’s perfect handwriting, between Ingrid and Perlita, was her name.
Sienah Posada.
The housekeeper’s daughter.
On a list of potential wives for Aivan Cannizzaro.
Her first thought was that this had to be a mistake. Her second was that someone was playing an incredibly cruel joke. Her third was…
Oh.
His father wasn’t horrible at all. His father was brilliant. His father was a visionary. His father was basically a matchmaking genius who deserved a medal and possibly sainthood for having the foresight to include her name.
And yet…
“W-Why?” She had to ask this because it just didn’t make sense. The master’s son and the housekeeper’s daughter? Why? How? What for? Was there some twist he had yet to tell her? Some kind of trap that she couldn’t see? There had to be a catch. Right?
“It’s quite simple.” He leaned back, studying her with those dark eyes that had ruined her for all other men before she’d even had a chance to meet any. “I need to marry. You’re on the approved list. And frankly, you’re the only name that doesn’t make me want to drive into a wall.”
How…romantic?
“I’m also going to be blunt.” His gaze locked on hers, and suddenly the restaurant felt too warm. “I’m aware of your feelings for me.”
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
A part of her had always known she had been about as subtle as a neon sign around him, but to hear it said out loud like that?
I think I’m about to die of embarrassment, God.
So please.
Please tell me I’ll still make it to Heaven if so.
“And I want you to know your feelings won’t be disregarded.”
Her heart, which had been somewhere in her stomach, shot straight up to her throat.
What did that even mean?
Was he saying…
Oh dear God, I honestly don’t understand what he’s saying, but I think it sounds…promising?
“So…what do you think?”
“A-About what?”
“Will you marry me?”
The hockey MVP everyone adored had a secret. Her name was Laina, and he'd been hiding her for seven years.
She sat in Section 308. Row 14. She bought her own ticket to watch her husband play because he never gave her one.
She introduced herself as a "friend." She practiced the word in the mirror until it stopped making her cry.
She wore his ring on a chain under her shirt. She moved to the guest room when he stopped noticing she was there. And when she finally accepted that the man she married would never say her name out loud…
She looked him in the eye and told him she didn't love him anymore.
It was the first lie Laina Blackett had ever told.
And the last one Troy Barrymore would ever believe.
In Love with My Secret Husband is a fast-paced, marriage-in-crisis, second-chance romance featuring an alpha billionaire hero who doesn't deserve his wife, a heroine who loved him anyway, obsessive possession, heartbreaking angst, an epic grovel, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
She sat in Section 308. Row 14. She bought her own ticket to watch her husband play because he never gave her one.
She introduced herself as a "friend." She practiced the word in the mirror until it stopped making her cry.
She wore his ring on a chain under her shirt. She moved to the guest room when he stopped noticing she was there. And when she finally accepted that the man she married would never say her name out loud…
She looked him in the eye and told him she didn't love him anymore.
It was the first lie Laina Blackett had ever told.
And the last one Troy Barrymore would ever believe.
In Love with My Secret Husband is a fast-paced, marriage-in-crisis, second-chance romance featuring an alpha billionaire hero who doesn't deserve his wife, a heroine who loved him anyway, obsessive possession, heartbreaking angst, an epic grovel, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
The most feared billionaire in New York wanted a wife. But not if she insisted on falling in love with him.
19-year-old Maika Nolan was about to lose everything. And the only way to stop it was to become the wife of a brooding Greek billionaire.
Mykos Ravensworth was a man who didn’t believe in losing control. And so when his young wife threatened just that, he chose to destroy her instead.
A fast-paced marriage-of-convenience age gap romance featuring an emotionally unavailable alpha hero, an innocent heroine, obsessive possession, and a touch of angst to make their happily ever after all the sweeter. No cheating. Perfect for one sitting!
19-year-old Maika Nolan was about to lose everything. And the only way to stop it was to become the wife of a brooding Greek billionaire.
Mykos Ravensworth was a man who didn’t believe in losing control. And so when his young wife threatened just that, he chose to destroy her instead.
A fast-paced marriage-of-convenience age gap romance featuring an emotionally unavailable alpha hero, an innocent heroine, obsessive possession, and a touch of angst to make their happily ever after all the sweeter. No cheating. Perfect for one sitting!
My Greek billionaire husband never saw me…until I asked for a divorce.
Everyone thinks I’m living the dream—married to Leonidas Gazis, a former racing champion who looks like a modern-day god and commands empires with a single glance.
But they don’t know about the eight years of separate bedrooms. The mistress in Milan. The marriage that was never anything more than a pit stop for him.
I asked my husband for a divorce, thinking he’d wave the checkered flag and let me go.
Instead, Leonidas refuses to sign—and demands I give him a chance to make our marriage real.
The only problem? He didn’t want me until he found out I invented the technology that could get him back on the track.
Note: This book also includes a bonus copy of The Greek Billionaire’s Email Bride.
Everyone thinks I’m living the dream—married to Leonidas Gazis, a former racing champion who looks like a modern-day god and commands empires with a single glance.
But they don’t know about the eight years of separate bedrooms. The mistress in Milan. The marriage that was never anything more than a pit stop for him.
I asked my husband for a divorce, thinking he’d wave the checkered flag and let me go.
Instead, Leonidas refuses to sign—and demands I give him a chance to make our marriage real.
The only problem? He didn’t want me until he found out I invented the technology that could get him back on the track.
Note: This book also includes a bonus copy of The Greek Billionaire’s Email Bride.
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