<p><em><strong>I&#39;m a good girl-until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman.<br />
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Oops.</strong></em><br />
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I&#39;ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I&#39;m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM.<br />
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That comfort zone of mine? It&#39;s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met--and <em>married</em>--Liam Gallagher.<br />
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After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl&#39;s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she&#39;s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman&#39;s body.<br />
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Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He <em>says</em>&nbsp;it&#39;ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can&#39;t say that he&#39;s wrong.<br />
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Liam isn&#39;t safe, though. Liam definitely isn&#39;t comfortable. He&#39;s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package.<br />
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Yet this stubborn Irishman isn&#39;t about to let me go, drunken 'i'Princess Bride'/i'-themed Vegas wedding or no.<br />
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Now I have to decide if I&#39;m brave enough to break the rules for love.</p>