It was the blood I noticed first. Running down the neck of the man on the ferry. Then his bruised knuckles, dark eyes, and arrogant smirk. The handcuffs came last. No one else paid him attention, but I couldn't look away. Or deny my instant lust. I had no idea he was being imprisoned on the remote, dark Scottish island I knew well. Or that he'd been kidnapped, not arrested. I went from that naïve girl on the boat, dreaming of stolen kisses, to the one who held the key to his prison cell. When heat turns to hate, all that's left is ruin.

As a bodyguard, I have one rule: don't get attached. Yet Daisy's got me hooked. When I'm asked to protect her, I can't resist. She's warmth and kindness wrapped up in a curvy package, and I'm willing to cross any line to keep her safe. Almost. No matter how torn I am between duty and desire, there’s only one chance I can’t take. For her, I’ll risk anything—except for my heart.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

Our first meeting was at a nightclub, and it was something straight out of my most romantic fantasies. My ovaries exploded at the sight of the Russian God. And by God, I mean he was ripped, tall, dark, and deadly attractive. There were enough sparks between us to light up a city. Then an explosion blasted through the nightclub, and we got trapped together for three hours, sharing our most personal details...everything but our names. Two years later, our second meeting is the complete opposite of the first. It's clear Misha Petrov, a Russian enforcer for the bratva, despises me.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

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.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

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.

Lennox McRae is a dirty fighter. He crashed my car, stole my first kiss, then walked away with another woman. There’s no reason why, years later, when I see him in a fight, I should be lusting after his body. They call him Hard Nox, but I know him, and damned if he's getting an easy ride back into my life.

A mountain rescue leader and a woman with a stalker. A movie star in hiding and the rugged Scot who protects her. Three suspenseful romances with hot Scottish mountain rescue heroes and the beautiful women who tame them. This beautiful boxed set contains the first three novels in the Wild Mountain Scot series: Obsessed, Hunted, and Stolen. Once you start listening, you won't want to stop. Download now to enter a world of gorgeous mountain scenery and rugged Scots!

It all started with an unexpected phone call. Two years after my fiancé passed away in an accident, his father died suddenly, leaving Brad’s adult special-needs brother with no one to care for him. The next thing I knew, I was on a cross-country drive to New Hampshire where I’d be moving in to look after Scottie until I could get him into a group home. The last thing I ever expected? I wouldn’t be taking care of him alone.

We were supposed to run away after high school. When she didn’t show up at our meeting place, I gathered my courage and went after her. It was a mistake. I left bloodied and bruised. My heart didn’t fare half as well. I had no choice but to walk away. Years passed. A decade. More. I traveled, settled halfway around the world, and made myself a name and enough money that I didn’t have to look back. But I never got over her.

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.

Callum Griffin is the heir to the Irish mafia. He’s ruthless, arrogant, and he wants to kill me. We got off on the wrong foot when I set a (very small) fire in his house. Our families believe a marriage pact is the only thing that will prevent all-out warfare. I think I might need to murder him while he sleeps. This would all be a lot easier if Callum wasn’t so damned good-looking.

When Blair Beaufort literally crashes into Bellamy Creek wearing a ball gown and a tiara, I should have towed her car, said goodnight, and sent her packing. I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful. But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.