Nicholas Hunt is the man I hate. For good reason. His opinion of me is tainted by prejudice even before my arrival at his grandmother’s estate, and my first impression of him is just as abysmal. His arrogance and icy demeanor make it clear that he’s the type of man who’s best handled at a distance. Fortunately, space shouldn’t be an issue inside this Gilded Age mansion and its lush gardens. If I stick with the servants and he keeps to his sailboat, we should hardly cross paths at all. Unfortunately, at Rosethorn, I find that all roads eventually lead to Nicholas Hunt.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

Thinking outside the box resulted in the best night of my life. Until I discover the man I spent it with is my new boss. Attending a secret party where clothes are optional wasn’t a life goal of mine. But when the exclusive invitation ends up in my mailbox by accident...well. Who wouldn't be curious? It's not like I'm going to do anything. The handsome stranger I meet has different plans. One glance across the crowded party and an hour later we're stretched out on silk. No names and no regrets. But I’d forgotten there’s always a price to pay for pleasure.

When a scandal tarnishes the reputation of hot-as-hell A-lister Patrick Walsh, he needs a reputation rescue, pronto. Enter waitress Norah Peers - a nobody who’s average with a capital A. She’s available, dependable, and has sworn off men for the rest of her natural born life. In other words: the perfect match for a no-strings fake romance. For the right amount of money, she can avoid waitressing and play the part of his dependable down-to-earth girlfriend. What she can’t avoid - dammit - is the growing steam between them.

Marry a man I barely know to save my family from ruin. It might’ve been simple, if my betrothed were anybody else. On our wedding day, my husband-to-be arrived at the courthouse like a black cloud rolling over Manhattan. Walt didn’t crack smiles or pepper in pleasantries as we exchanged hollow vows in front of the judge. His disdain for me was so palpable I assumed we’d walk out of that ceremony and resume our regularly scheduled programming. But then fate was like, Hold my beer. I got this.