They say that all men are created equal. Well, that’s a blatant lie! I know, because I met God's gift to women in Vegas; I pretended he was my husband to get rid of another man. He took our fake marriage seriously, and it became his personal goal to consummate. He spoke to me in French, and I lied to him in German. His laughter was addictive. But I thought what happens in Vegas would stay in Vegas. Until it didn't.

We met at my older brother’s house and instantly I knew that he was trouble. He kissed me, right there in the bathroom without a care in the world. And from that moment on, I was his. We were young, brave and naïve when we met. Sneaking around and falling in love. Giuliano Ferrara was perfection. A beautiful, crazy mistake. With his big brown eyes and his boyish charm.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

I met him, the man of my dreams. On the worst day of my life. Catching my boyfriend out was bad. Coming out of the club in a daze, I stumbled upon a situation which was worse. Much worse. And it would have been deadly, too. If he wasn’t there to save me. My unsuspecting hero. He was rugged, wild, and powerful. The way he looked at me set me on fire.

The first time I laid eyes on Henley James, I was mesmerized. The chemistry between us was like nothing I’d ever felt. Impeccable suit, dimpled smile. He was charming and gorgeous, sophisticated and suave. He gave me his business card and asked me to call. His dating game was strong; I was gone from his first smile. I’d love to tell you our date was a raging success, but it wasn’t. Far from it. I decided right there on that day that Henley James and I would forever be mortal enemies; I would never think of him again.

When the woman he'd desperately been looking for crashes into him and spills her drink all over his shirt, Lexington seizes the unexpected opportunity — demanding six rounds of Truth or Dare as compensation. An evening filled with laughter and a connection he never wanted to feel ends in her walking away — without even leaving him her phone number.

I’ve sworn off men to focus on my dream job that starts on Monday. But my best friend talks me into a final night of fun—a blind date. I only agree because the guy is going to work as a doctor in Africa. It’s the best date of my life. Dr. Africa makes me laugh and swoon, and I want to give him a thorough physical examination. He turns into Dr. One Night Stand, and I’m not sad about it. Monday morning, I’m enthusiastic and excited, until I bump into...you guessed it.

I'm not the kind of girl who has one-night stands. Except...I did. What can I say? After a few drinks with a gorgeous man who made me feel alive for the first time since losing my mom, I was powerless to say no. And I didn't regret it. Not one minute of our hot, mind-melting night together. But he wasn't a forever kind of guy. So I walked away. I wasn't supposed to ever see him again. Then I did. Turns out my sexy one-night stand is Dr. Jacob Mitchell - and he's the cardiothoracic surgeon who just saved my dad's life.

I meet a handsome man at the bar, the kind you only dream about. You know the one? He drinks his whiskey neat and power oozes from his suit-clad form. The night we spend together is perfect - I’ll treasure the memory for as long as I live. Until I discover who he is. My one-night stand. Correction: my rich, handsome, calculating one-night stand. I hate his determination and his ruthlessness. I hate the way he smirks and the thick fall of his hair. But most of all, I hate that I can’t look at him without remembering our night together - a night he’s keen to repeat.

I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived. Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello. Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock.

The Price Dynasty is a contemporary romance box set filled with billionaire alphas, witty banter, and shocking plot twists.

I ran from home to escape heartbreak, only to deliver myself into the hands of a wolf. Henry Wolf, that is. Heir to a luxury hotel chain, infamous playboy, arrogant bastard...and my new boss. Why he wants me, Abbi Mitchell - a girl who lacks experience on every front that would matter to him - as his personal assistant, I cannot fathom, especially when I keep messing up in the most spectacular way. Did I already mention he's a bastard? A beautiful, moody one, who's quick to demand, slow to apologize. And toying with me every chance he gets.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old". Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

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.