Her story began long before she started working at The Sky Launch... Screw fairytales. The only reward Gwen Anders got from her rough childhood was a thick skin and hard heart. She's content with her daily grind managing a top NYC nightclub - Eighty-Eighth Floor. So hers isn't a happily ever after. She doesn't believe in those anyway. Then she meets JC.

Edward Fasbender is a devil. He's my father's biggest rival. He takes what he wants, and he bows to no one. And now Edward Fasbender wants me. I didn't expect to want him back. Having him is not in the cards, not when a union with him would destroy my father. But that doesn't mean I can't play with him a bit. Except, I've never played against such a ruthless opponent. Edward is cold and vicious, and my blood has never run hotter. They say you should choose the devil you know, but I've always preferred long odds. Even if it'll get me slain.

Weston King knows how to play. But wild nights and owning an extensive collection of women's panties don't carry the thrill they once did, so when his business partner, Donovan, suggests an outrageous plan to allow them to take over their competition, Wes takes him up on the offer. The crazy idea? Marry the competitor.

The Sebastians own this city. Hell, they own the whole world. All I want is one little piece of it, a corner that I can call my own. So when my boss runs away to “find herself”, I seize the opportunity and dive headfirst into the Sebastian’s glamorous universe. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted—fast-paced and high-stakes—and, even though I don’t fit in, I’m excellent at faking it. Until I come face-to-face with the man in charge, Scott Sebastian, the arrogant playboy heir with the mind of a devil, the body of a god, and a mouth I can’t stop thinking about.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.