Ashton Scott is not my type. He’s arrogant and presumptuous, and way too bossy for me. The man is persistent, though. Nothing stops him when he decides he wants something, and he’s decided he wants to buy my building. He’s also decided he wants me. And like I said, when Ashton Scott wants something, nothing stops him. He’s sexy AF. He wears a suit like nobody’s business. And his bossiness turns me on in ways I can’t understand. But I’m not going down without a fight. Or at least, I wasn’t.

One wardrobe malfunction. Two people who don’t belong together. Three awful words: “Be my wife."

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.

He's destined for the White House and engaged to be married next month. Except he just married me instead. While drunk in Vegas. Bradford Black. He's powerful. Rich as sin. And he's now my husband. His fiancée hates me. His political advisors want me gone. The world can't get enough of me and the scandal we've caused. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to pretend none of this is happening. But, oh God. My husband doesn't care about the scandal because all he cares about is me. He's possessive, grumpy, and determined for us to stay married.

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.

Drowning in the murky waters of the mafia, I’m determined to find a way out. I have my sights set on becoming a film producer and won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. Then my mother marries a retired Godfather, and I get the head of the Greek mafia as a stepbrother. Nikolas Stathoulis is set on ruining my well-laid plans. His ruthless reputation has me running for the safety of my apartment. But he’s always there. On campus. In my apartment. Expecting me to play by his rules.

Chloe Jones is trying to put the scandal of leaving her Super Bowl legend fiancé at the altar behind her. There is no better way to escape than to turn her island honeymoon into a much-needed vacation with her girls. What she isn't expecting is to meet a hot stranger. Don't they say to get over someone you need to get under someone else? Chloe's ready for a fresh start. Shame her vengeful ex is making it difficult for her. That is until she lands the job of her dreams. She isn't expecting to come face to face with the hot stranger from her island escape—her new boss.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

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.

Gabriel Thompson and I are like oil and water. Our New York families control two of the nation’s largest companies and the business rivalry is decades old. We’ve carried the torch ourselves since childhood. But then we bump into each other after a conference in Vegas. Drinks are involved, and he utters the three little words I can’t resist. I dare you. The next morning we wake up hungover, late, and worst of all, married.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

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.

He proposed . . . and I said yes. Normally a jovial occasion for a couple in love, but this proposal has a very different feel. Because the man that I'll be calling my husband blew into town with one thing on his mind . . . to make my life a living nightmare. So why did I say yes? Well, because we both need something from each other. Namely, I want the farm land he currently owns, and he needs a wife in order to inherit his family cabin in his grandfather’s will. So as he so eloquently put it, my hand, for his land.

I didn’t know bridesmaid was code for babysitter for the bride’s brother, but if that’s what my best friend needs of me for her dream wedding to go off without a hitch, that’s what I’ll do. Even if Theo Monroe has been a pain in my rear since third grade. Even if he should be responsible enough to not wreak havoc at his sister’s destination wedding.

They say there are three things you should do at least once in your life: Dance like nobody’s watching. Travel the world. And fall hopelessly in love. I aimed to do all three. I went to Italy to find myself. But he found me.