Liam McLaren: London's most ruthless financial hotshot and the big boss at Ashbury Thornton Equity Group. Just whisper his name and even the city’s toughest traders break out in a cold sweat. And lucky me, Gemma Jones, as the head of HR at his company, I’ve got a front-row seat to the McLaren Show. Brooding intensity, perfectionist demands, and a glare that could stop your heart mid-beat. Every. Damn. Day.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

The first time I laid eyes on Henley James, I was mesmerized. The chemistry between us was like nothing I’d ever felt. Impeccable suit, dimpled smile. He was charming and gorgeous, sophisticated and suave. He gave me his business card and asked me to call. His dating game was strong; I was gone from his first smile. I’d love to tell you our date was a raging success, but it wasn’t. Far from it. I decided right there on that day that Henley James and I would forever be mortal enemies; I would never think of him again.

Gabriel Ferrara is tall and handsome, and most days she wants to stab her eyes out with a pencil, anything to stop her seeing his perfection. How any female could work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him is beyond her. Then he opens his mouth and she remembers why. He's bossy and sarcastic, with a wit so sharp it could cut glass. Every weekend is the same . . . while he's off living his dream life, she's counting down the days until Monday when she sees him again.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

I died, briefly. Then I came back. Now I’m determined to make the most of every minute I have left. Only problem is I’ve been saddled with supervision. Kane Deveraux is handsome, smug, and cold as a tombstone. So why does he make me feel something more powerful than death?

Jack St. Claire is desperate. A grieving single father, he buries himself in his work—running a brand-new kink club in Paris. Instead of handling his grief, he’s built a fortress around his heart, and it’s time he hired someone to help him take care of his daughter before things get worse. Camille Aubert wasn’t looking for a new job. She just wanted to return a lost love letter she’d found within the pages of a book. But when she’s mistaken for a job candidate and hired as Jack’s live-in nanny, something tells her this is exactly where she needs to be.

I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.

I was never supposed to see him again. Him being the man wearing the perfectly tailored suit, who oozed an intoxicating mixture of wealth, rebellion, and sex appeal. One night. No strings. No names. Still riding the high from last night, I walk in to meet my new client, and he’s wearing that same dangerous smirk. Yes, I’m consulting for Callahan Sharpe. That Callahan Sharpe. Billionaire heir who abides by no rules, bucks convention, and is determined to complete one final project to honor his late father’s legacy. Luckily, and unluckily for me, I’m tasked to help.

In Fiasco, Kentucky, there is one rule: never fall for a Foxx brother. Any woman who did, ended up dead—or so the rumor goes. Townies call it a curse. But I’ve lived it, and I won’t survive it again. I’m not a cop anymore, but I’ve seen enough danger to know that Laney Young, the beautiful stranger who just showed up in my small town, is running from it. She’s lying about where she came from and what she’s doing here. I don’t want her near my family or the quiet life I’ve made for myself. But my brothers have other plans.

It’s complicated. Two years ago, he broke my heart when he left me to do his father’s bidding. After months of crying, I finally accepted he was gone and wasn’t going to look back. That maybe he’d never loved me at all. I never wanted to see Luca again. Now, a cruel twist of fate has signed me over to him in a heartless deal. I’m his. He thinks he did me a favor, but I feel like I’ve been given a death sentence. He doesn't want to get married because he still loves me. No, he did it for money. More power.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

They say that all men are created equal. Well, that’s a blatant lie! I know, because I met God's gift to women in Vegas; I pretended he was my husband to get rid of another man. He took our fake marriage seriously, and it became his personal goal to consummate. He spoke to me in French, and I lied to him in German. His laughter was addictive. But I thought what happens in Vegas would stay in Vegas. Until it didn't.