THE WORST MAN

He's the worst man I know. And now he's my husband.

By now I should be immune to Hank Talbot’s insults, but the handsome, arrogant professor knows exactly how to push my buttons. 

So when he tells our colleagues that my idea of a good time is staying home to organize my sock drawer, I’ve finally had enough.

He wants to see me let loose? Fine. Challenge accepted. 

From dive bars to fancy clubs, we hit up all the best that Sin City had to offer—including that little white wedding chapel at the end of Las Vegas Strip. 

Now, what’s even more surprising than accidentally marrying the man I hate most in the world is realizing that it might not be the worst idea after all.