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.

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.

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.

Aiden Stone is a six-foot-two former Marine with a permanent scowl, dark hair, and dreamy blue eyes. He’s the oldest of the Stone brothers, and his “by the book” family has battled mine for control of our small town for generations. The last thing I should do is sleep with him. Or nearly run him down with my truck. Especially since he's sort-of my new boss.

Legend has it, the man you kiss at a wedding is the man you’ll marry. In my case, it’s nothing but trouble. Spencer Carrollton is a dark-haired, hazel-eyed beast. When I collided with him at my cousin’s wedding, I wasn’t looking for love. But his naughty eyes flashed, his full lips curled into a knowing smile, and I should have run. I didn’t. I kissed him instead. Then he gave me a job when I needed it the most.

I left the Navy, scored a billion in tech, got married, and had a baby. I did everything by the book. Happily ever after, right? Fast-forward four years, and I’m alone, raising my daughter, caring for my mother-in-law, and trying to keep my stuff together. How did this happen? I was clearly drunk the night I offered a gorgeous girl in a bar $500 a day to be my live-in nanny. Or maybe it was my dick talking. So what if I’ve been alone since forever? I’m focused on launching my new business, not bedding the sexy siren who sleeps down the hall.

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends. What I knew about Archie: He was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger. When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.

To be “just friends” with a guy, you’ve got to follow The Rules: Don’t touch him unnecessarily. Don’t share your intimate dreams with him (even if he asks). Don’t kiss him, and definitely don’t sleep with him. Scout Dunne and I have been “just friends” since childhood. I’m one of the few people who knows the first-round NFL draft pick wants more than a life of sports.

The first time I met Charles Cavendish, I accidentally locked myself in a closet with him. The second time, he became my new boss. My very grumpy new boss. No matter how I much I try, I can’t forget what his lips feel like. The way his arms wrap around me. I need to keep my distance. But when the company lands a new account, I’m forced to work side by side with this man. The handsome devil who makes me forget all rational thought. But the thing about the devil is...he can lure even the greatest of saints.

The headline says it all, and my bosses are over the moon when the opportunity of a lifetime lands in my lap. Of course, they aren’t aware that I’ve already met Vince Cool at an all-star gala—and that we were at each other’s throats the entire time.

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t. Just don’t do it. Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

The first time I met Merrick Crawford was during my job interview. Well, technically, I’d met him 20 minutes earlier when he’d barged into a fitting room a few doors down from my appointment. I yelled. He yelled. After an argument while standing in my bra, I proceeded to smash the door into the gorgeous jerk, trying to yank it shut. As you might imagine, I was freaked out when I discovered that the rude guy was my potential new boss. Yet he didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought.... Until we wound up bickering again during my interview and he told me to go sniff my armpit.

The day I showed up to Dax Moody’s sprawling home, I had no idea what was coming. As a traveling massage therapist, I was used to entering the houses of strangers. But this assignment was different from any before it. From the outside, I’d correctly assumed the owner was rich. What I didn’t realize was that he would be younger than I’d imagined, single, stunningly gorgeous, and mysterious.

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.

Eden Murphy came into my club looking to make some extra cash. A girl like her didn't belong in a place like this. She'd get ripped to shreds. Most likely by me. There's nothing but sweetness dripping from her sexy little body, and I'm the monster who's salivating to get a taste.