Two years ago, I had a one-night stand with a hot stranger. Billionaire Marcus Willingham. Powerful, irresistible blue eyes and completely off-limits. He couldn’t get to me before those two thugs grabbed me, but luckily, he was able to chase them off. It was just supposed to be one night. No love. No feelings. And certainly no regrets. Six weeks later, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test.

Boss rule number one: Never sleep with your employee. Apparently, rules aren’t my thing. Because the moment I wake up naked next to my hot-as-hell new employee, I want to go for round two. I'm not exactly Prince Charming. Some call me The Wolf. I don’t do love, and I sure as hell don’t do forever. But one look at her, and I become a one-woman man. She has a British accent and a car that won’t start. I’m in a rush, so I do what I need to do and send her on her way - sure I’ll never see her again. Then she shows up at my company to interview for a new position.

Emmett Lasker is impossible to work for. He might be model handsome and stupidly wealthy, but he also has it out for me. He’s given me more last-minute and weekend requests than anyone else, ruining any plans I make. I should quit. And I will. Just as soon as I hit my two-year anniversary and earn out my signing bonus. But after a particularly awful day at work, a breakup (via text!), and my computer crashing, I’ve had enough! So at 11:59 Friday night, I barge into Emmett’s office to tell him what I really think of him. Only, that’s not what happens. AT ALL.

He’s the devil himself: Damon Copeland (he practically carries a pitchfork), fiery-hot, a torturously sexy body, and a killer smile (if he ever smiled). He’s also the top dog at my father’s company and my brother’s best friend. Oh, and someone I accidentally slept with. In my defense, that was before I knew who he was and before he hired me. Now, my one-night stand has turned into my boss. What’s worse, he’s Mr. Bosshole Superior: brutish, broody, and impatient. He’s also 6’4". And I’m pretty sure he hates me. But it’s not as if I planned any of this.

I knew it was a bad idea to get on the elevator. Because now, I have three problems. Number one, I’m stuck in the elevator. Number two, I’m soaking wet from the rain. Number three, he got in before the doors closed. Miles Humphries. My neighbor. The one I hate. The biggest jerk I’ve ever met. Mr. Bachelor-for-Life and I, Rose Taylor, are like night and day. Imagine my jaw dropping when he asks me to be his fake fiancée. And move in with him. Together with my cat. Hello? That’s disaster waiting to happen. But then he makes me an offer I can’t refuse.

Everything goes as planned...until Nate and I wake up the next day, hung-over, wearing identical golden wedding bands, and with no memory of what happened the night before. Cue major hyperventilation. But it's okay. Nothing that a quick marriage dissolution can't solve...until the pregnancy test stick comes back with two pink lines...

I just moved in with my billionaire best friend (and secret crush), Oliver Humphries. He’s the all-star. The jock. The golden boy. And I’m no match. I’m the nerdy, frizzy-haired, not-so-skinny friend. The moment I met him at 14, I was in L-O-V-E. I’m under no illusion I stand a chance. Living with him? Not a problem.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

With one glance at her in the club, I’m ready to claim her for the night. Dark, flowing hair. A smile that causes my heart to pound. Eyes that pierce my soul. And a perfect body that makes every part of me pulse. She’s addictive. Electrifying. Consuming. I’ve never wanted anyone more. Our eyes meet, but she looks right past me. She isn’t here for me. She’s here for the music. For the first time in my life, a woman makes me work for it. Her indifference fuels the fire inside me. The result? One night. No names. No introductions.

I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

He called me “Goody-Goody.” He called me “Nosy-Josie.” He called me other things while he pulled my pigtails. Now, his grandmother left us a surprise inheritance. The catch? We have to get married and live in her small NYC apartment. For a month. With just one bed. When I arrive, he’s not the cheeky jerk I hated. He’s piping hot. Tall. Sinfully tattooed. A stunning villain. And that damn smirk on his face?

No sex. No falling in love. No trying to buy out her family's business. These are the rules Audrey Miller sets when she's asked to pose as the fake girlfriend of New York's best marketing CEO. Aaron Patterson is after her cousin's company and that is enough for her to hate him. The longer the charade lasts, the less Audrey can resist the billionaire she's sworn to hate. How can she save her family's company if falling for him wasn't part of the deal?

I keep things simple with the women I meet. Charm her, enjoy her, discard her, and repeat. Once she hears my family name her focus is on the size of my wallet and she can't be trusted. Until Lauren shows up at my doorstep one night and I am suddenly in charge of the family company. I need to save the family legacy and 10,000 jobs. I can't do it without her. She's beautiful, sassy, brilliant, and brutally honest.

Danny Walker, my big brother’s arrogant, powerful, handsome, and completely unobtainable best friend. He’s a ruthless tech tycoon, and I take calls from angry clients who can’t reset their passwords. He lives in a Grade II listed mansion with holiday homes worldwide, and I rent a room in a flat-share with my best friend and mice.

Sinclair Amadeus Sterling, a.k.a. Mr. Superior Jackass with a God complex. Who also happens to be my blackmailer...gulp. Tall, dark, gazillionaire growly pants. The first time I met him, I kneed him in his very well endowed balls - don't ask! He had that tightly leashed, controlling air and a smoldering glare that made me damp in seconds. The only thing that sucks worse than his attitude is his (lack of) sense of humor! Honest. Sadly, he's also the one who could save my business from going bust. Hell!