When former ballet dancer and current good girl Olivia learns her ‘perfect’ boyfriend has been cheating, she takes the stage at a racy club. Dancing away her frustrations is thrilling, and dangerous. Her wild fantasy threatens to land her in more trouble. Until mysterious, gorgeous Sawyer rescues her in the parking lot. His touch sets her on fire. He's older and confident, with secrets she longs to liberate. But one mistake quickly becomes two. The first day of class, Olivia learns Sawyer isn’t only the man she stayed up all night with. He’s her new professor.

After being dumped and losing my job the same week, the last thing my broken heart needs is a rebound. I'm escaping across the country to help my perfect sister plan her dream wedding, and to prove to both of us everything is under control. But a combination of tequila and turbulence on the flight there lead to word-vomiting all my troubles to the huge and handsome stranger in the first-class seat next to mine.

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.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

To be fair, I didn’t know he was my boss when I slept with him. I thought he was just the kind stranger offering me a place to stay. But one night in Misha Orlov’s hotel room got me way more than I bargained for.

I should have known I was in trouble when I backed my old, beat-up truck into the shiny Range Rover. The driver looked like a gorgeous fallen angel–one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant prick. Good thing I’ll never have to see him again.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Who leaves their girlfriend in the woods after a fight? My now ex-boyfriend, that’s who. One fight—okay, a big fight—because I found out he was cheating on me while we were camping, and poof! He left me in the woods. So, I start walking to town, only I end up at the river, where I meet Axel. This guy is huge. With a storm rolling in, I don’t have much choice but to trust him and take shelter in his cabin, since I’ve been walking for hours away from town. Several days of rain wash out the road and it looks like I’m stuck here with my giant.

Jess: Meet Mark Donovan. Ex-Army sniper. CEO of a multi-billion dollar global empire. Chiseled to the nth degree. And a man I want nothing to do with.I know the type. Dangerous. Sexy. A bad-boy who fills out a Tom Ford suit or pair of Calvin's in equally drool-worthy ways. At his core, the worst kind of heartbreaker. The kind who doesn't even know he did it.