<p><strong>From <em>New York Times</em> bestselling author Penelope Ward comes a new, STANDALONE novel...</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong><em>ABBY:</em></strong></p><p>I'm falling for the father of the baby I'm carrying.</p><p>The problem is: it's not <em>my </em>baby.</p><p>And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner.</p><p>As a surrogate, the deal was that I'd only be in England long enough to give birth.</p><p>At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: <em>Sigmund Benedictus</em>.</p><p>He and I butted heads.</p><p>Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money.</p><p>Gradually, he learned to trust me.</p><p>He even became protective.</p><p>Over time, our heated animosity turned into fiery chemistry.</p><p>I was falling in love with him.</p><p>But my time here had a limit.</p><p>I needed to protect my heart from the devastatingly gorgeous older man who'd end up breaking it.</p><p><strong><em>SIG:</em></strong></p><p>When my in-laws told me they wanted to use my dead wife's eggs to conceive a grandchild, I wasn't immediately on board.</p><p>They swore that on her deathbed Britney told them it was what she wanted-but only if I fathered the baby. Her parents insisted they would be the ones to raise it.</p><p>Against my better judgment, I agreed.</p><p>I vowed to keep my heart out of it, though.</p><p>I'd continue to pretend it wasn't happening and live the empty, single life I'd become accustomed to the past five years since Britney died.</p><p>And despite the fact that a certain younger American named Abby Knickerbocker had awakened things inside me that I thought were long dead...</p><p>I most certainly<em> wouldn't </em>fall in love with the surrogate.</p>