The man had seemed so innocent in the bar - okay, not innocent, per say. He’d been hot, hard, and possessed a butt that I wanted to bite like the last chocolate chip cookie in my stash. He’d also skipped out of town faster than a villain in a B movie, leaving me woefully unsatisfied. I’d chalked the whole incident up to a bad night stand and moved on with my life. That was before the news of a failed IUD. Before the plus sign. Before Jordan showed back up determined to make that night up to me. I didn’t want a baby or a payday or a sexy, stubborn man in my life.

I didn’t believe my fractured heart and broken soul could endure any more pain. Until Jared rocks up to the art gallery where I work, with his fiancée in tow, and I’m drowning again. Seeing him brings everything to the surface, so I flee. Placing distance between us again, I’m determined to put him behind me once and for all. Then he reappears at my door, begging me for another chance. I know I should turn him away. Try telling that to my heart.

I was born a mistake, a hybrid unwanted. I act tough, soft inside to survive. All I need is a savior. Here he comes. As my fated mate, he triggers my innermost itch to love, but he loathes and rejects me like I'm worthless.

It was supposed to be the best day of my life. But the second I got up, things started to fall apart. The kitchen just caught on fire. Flowers were from a funeral. My bride-to-be just had an allergic reaction, leaving by ambulance. Oh, and my ex-girlfriend just walked into the church. They say you have to see the signs when they are right in front of you. Maybe she was just mine to have.

I slept with the wrong twin. And all I got for it in return was a broken heart. Oh yeah, and a baby on the way - there’s that too. But I’m determined to make it on my own. I don’t need a man, thank you very much. Not rich, charismatic, and decidedly flighty Rex Roosevelt, and especially not his twin brother, Justin. No matter that the gorgeous former military doctor makes my heart beat a little faster...and all spots lower than that pay careful, careful attention. None of that matters. The Roosevelt men are dangerous and I’m steering clear.