I never planned to give my V-card to a gorgeous stranger I met at a bar. But for once I didn't let myself overthink things. In the few hours we spent together, he managed to push me outside my comfort zone. And I loved every second. I never expected to see him again. Let alone sitting at the head of the boardroom table during my architectural firm's pitch to design his new hotel chain.

You want to know the secret to everlasting happiness? Never fall in love. That was the wisdom my father imparted to us James boys after our mom died, and it’s a piece of advice that’s served me well. Until dear old Dad asks me for a favor over Sunday brunch. No big deal, right? I love making my old man happy. Except this “favor” is a lot more complicated than picking up his dry cleaning. Dad wants me to marry and provide a few heirs for the James empire, and he’s even done me the courtesy of handpicking my bride-to-be. Lucky me.

I just wanted a distraction, something to take the edge off before facing a wedding I was dreading. So on the flight back to New York, I signed up for a dating app. Harmless enough, right? Wrong. Turns out, it wasn’t just any app—it catered to people with very specific tastes. By the time I realized it, I was already on my date.

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’ve spent my life putting others first. So when my father runs for New York City mayor—on a promise to take down the city’s most notorious crime family—I do what I always do: push my own dreams aside to help him win. Until I wind up at the wrong party. Trapped in a bedroom with Romolo Ferraro—the dangerous, merciless youngest son of the man my father has sworn to destroy. He terrifies me. He fascinates me. Six foot four and covered in tattoos, he’s everything I should avoid.

Lennox Kennedy is beautiful, loud, and the love of my life. She's also my ex-girlfriend. The first time I saw her after ten years apart, I slammed into the plexiglass minutes before our game was set to begin. The second time I threw up. The third time's a charm apparently because as my fiancée and I walked into an appointment to meet the woman hired to plan our nuptials—there she was again. Obviously, I did what any smart man would do—I called off the wedding. I don't have a plan per se, other than winning back the only girl I've ever loved.

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.

Our first kiss was a lie. Our second was a mistake. And the night we spent tangled up in each other? Hot as hell, but a complete disaster.

Seven years ago, Hadleigh Castille fell into my bed and never left my heart. Then she disappeared and my hunger for vengeance was born. My body wasn’t the same after that night. She left for war, but I lived a daily life of blood and violence for the Irish Mob. Now, I’ve risen to power in my own right, but to keep my crown I must align with the enemy. When he presents his sister to me as a bride, my heart takes a tumble. The woman I knew, the siren I never got over isn’t Hadleigh Castille, Navy Lieutenant. She’s the missing Greek Princess, Ava Zervas.

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.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

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 found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me—because he didn’t have the balls to do it himself. I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn’t been enough for him, if I’d been stupid for marrying him in the first place. I’m at work one night when he walks inside—the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us.

In the beginning, there was Savannah Shaw. Teasing me with a mischievous, merciless grin by day. Crawling through my window with tear-stained cheeks by night. I was ordered to avoid her. Lectured on her misdeeds. Forbidden from seeing her. But my need to protect her was innate. So natural I never questioned it. So visceral I couldn’t fight it.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.