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.

Viktor Kornilov is a cold-blooded beast. His name alone makes my blood run cold. But his cruel touch makes my heart beat faster and faster. We're trapped in a high-stakes game of lies and violence. One wrong move, and he'll take my son away. So when he gives me his sinful offer—become his fake wife or become his latest victim—the only answer I can give is yes.

When Mia shows up for the interview at a well-known architecture firm, she only has 27p, a squashed loaf of bread, and a jar of peanut butter to her name. She needs this job, even if she is scared to death of the owner of the company. To Mia, huge, grumpy men aren't sexy; they're simply terrifying. She knows from experience that even men of average size can be dangerous. If she weren't so desperate, she'd run.

When I turn up on Whit’s doorstep, résumé in hand, I’m expecting an informal interview, not a honey-dripped seduction, But that doesn’t mean I won’t grab it with both hands… My older brother’s best friend doesn’t recognize me. To him, I’m still the kid he sends a gift card to every Christmas. He doesn’t want to hear I spend them on fancy lingerie, Or that I dress up and fantasize about him. He’s determined not to employ me.

Help Wanted: Grumpy Mountain Man seeks baby momma. Job is an incubator position only. Surrogate must be impervious to grunting in the form of communication and nosey brotherly neighbors. Rustic mountain range housing available upon request. I wanted to pummel my irritating brothers when they posted their own version of a wanted ad to help me with my life. But I can’t fault the results once the right woman lands on my lap. Becoming a single father is not a decision I made lightly. In fact, it’s the biggest decision of my entire life.

I’m nannying for the grumpiest single billionaire dad in Manhattan... and he’s one outburst away from firing me. I need a visa – like, yesterday. I’m not ready to leave the bright lights of New York for my seaside hometown in Ireland. So, when the opportunity arises to become a live-in nanny maid for a billionaire single dad, I jump at the chance. How hard can it be, right? Harder than I thought. The first time I meet Killian Quinn, I get kicked out of his fancy hotel. The second time we cross paths, the guy looks ready to slam the door in my face.

I’ve been raised to be the perfect mafia wife, but when my marriage turns into a horrific nightmare, I have no choice but to leave everything behind and start a new life. I find myself alone in Ibiza—a place that swallows innocent girls like me alive. I’m robbed the day I arrive, left with nothing but a few euros and the clothes on my back.

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.

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.

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.

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

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.

Aurelia Whitlock is an ex-stepsister I forgot long ago. Until she shows up as a design intern at my fashion company. And that's the easy part. The part where she heats my blood, drawing me away from my grumpy, miserable side is another. She has no business being here. The more I learn about how she got this job, the more perilous things become for me and my company. I can't trust her. I can't fire her. And I can't claim her full lips with mine.

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.

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.