When Jess Montell meets Trace West at a hockey game, she doesn’t know his name or occupation. What she does know is there’s an instant attraction that’s impossible to ignore—or forget. And forgetting is exactly what she wants to do when she learns he’s not just a successful Wall Street suit but the heir to one of New York’s biggest Mafia families. The last thing Trace needs is a romantic anything with law enforcement, and parole officer Jess has trouble written all over her. Too bad he likes trouble.

It was an innocent mistake; she knocked on the wrong door. It was mine. If I were a better man, I would've just let her go. But I'm not. I'm a cruel bastard. I ruthlessly claimed her virtue for my own. It should've been enough but it wasn't. I needed more...I craved it. She became my obsession. Her sweetness and purity taunted my dark soul. The need to possess her nearly drove me mad. A Russian arms dealer had no business pursuing a naive librarian student. She didn't belong in my world. I would bring her only pain. But it was too late...she was mine and I was keeping her.

I owe everything to Emilia's father. I'd do anything for the man. When he asked me to marry his daughter, I thought he was insane. I was only going to protect her. That was my job. Yet, one innocent kiss changed everything. Now, it's not about what her father wants. It's all about her. When enemies try to take her and the life we could have away, they will learn why they call me the devil. I'll show them no mercy. Emilia is mine, and God help anyone who tries to come between us.

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.

Three months ago, I almost got hit by a car. The guy behind the wheel was as gorgeous as they come. We got to talking and… well, things got a little carried away, if you know what I mean. But when it was over, we went our separate ways. Except, not quite. The little plus sign on this pregnancy test tells me our story isn't over. But that's a problem for another day. First, I have to go to my sister's engagement party. When I see who she's marrying, my jaw hits the floor.