Just as things begin to heat up between Elizabeth and Roman, she pulls away, frightened of what it all means and goes off to pursue funding for her new business. Convincing people to make decisions that they wouldn't normally make is Roman's specialty. It's just that he's going to have to find other more creative ways to make this particular target bend to his will. 

Dean Evans is the worst. Not only does the devil in disguise steal my pie on a regular basis, he also lives in the apartment right. Next. Door. I see him all the time. At the mailboxes. In the elevator. Every single morning. It's exhausting because he's exhausting. Now, after setting his apartment on fire, he's my roommate, and he's the worst at that, too. I don't know what possessed me to let him stay with me. Pity, perhaps? I do know that I won't be falling for his charm. 

Adair MacLaine was sunshine and the storm. Emerald-green eyes and attitude, I fell for her the moment we met and hated her just as quickly. Five years ago, tragedy brought her to my door and sparked a love that consumed us like wildfire - hot, unpredictable, and impossible to control. We raged together until her father made her choose between me and the family name.

I grew up having no clue about the true meaning of love. Money. Cars. Houses. Status. Fame. That’s what love means to the people around me. It wasn’t until the woman I picked up in a bar came back into my life and showed me love can be so much more. So, what’s the problem? The woman I’m falling in love with believes in fairytales. She compares everything to a storybook and wants the happily-ever-after. So while she’s stuck on recreating stories that have already been told, page by page, I’m showing her it’s time we write our own book.

Dive into this feel-good, steamy romcom series, and meet three gorgeous heroes and the feisty women who bring them to their knees. Included in this flirty and fun boxset is three complete full-length stand-alone novels for one great price.

The things I want to do to my sweet, kindergarten-teaching, mitten-crocheting best friend Libby Collins are 10 different kinds of wrong. Maybe 20. But I'm a firm believer in teaching by example, and by the end of our first sex lesson, we've graduated to a hands-on approach to her education: my hands all over her, her hands all over me, and her hot mouth melting beneath mine as I prove to her there isn't a damned thing wrong with the way she kisses. 

Have you ever wished you could turn back time and do things differently? Like that one time you decided to use your ratty bra as a weapon and almost took out the eye of your dad’s hot doctor? Yeah? Me, too. But my nylon ninja skills must’ve impressed him, because he kept coming around, heating my blood with those tight jeans and sexy smiles.

The night we met in the dimly lit bar, she looked like a brunette bombshell, and I wanted to learn her deepest secrets. With sun-kissed skin and soulful bedroom eyes, she was pure temptation, and I was mesmerized. As one drink led to two, I craved more of her playful banter and taunting lips. Resisting her wasn't an option, and we quickly became a desperate mess of tangled limbs and hot kisses. She tasted like the sweetest sin, but I was no saint. 

It began with betrayal. And ended in murder. She was never supposed to cross my path. She was never supposed to know about the Currency of Secrets or the Oaths of Blood. But like a thief in the night, she stole my soul even if she wasn't mine to possess. As a member of the Elite, I live by simple tenets. A gentleman above all. Private matters stay private. Secrets whispered are never revealed. Enemies and friends are of the same coin. And power is king. My so-called brothers killed my friend. I intend to make them pay.

I don't do boyfriends. Or dating. Or random hookups. Not when fictional men do it so much better, and not when my heart has been through the wringer. So when retired MMA fighter Matt Haywood crashes into my life, I'm not impressed. Quite the opposite actually. I avoid him at all costs. At least, I try. 

There are bad ideas and there are good bad ideas. My former fiancé banging a nanny - that was a bad idea. A good girl having her first ever one-night stand with the hot former bad boy she just met after being dumped? Bad idea. When I find out that the nanny's ex-boyfriend is looking for revenge, I should run - far away. But I don’t...because rebounding with Vince is the most awesome bad idea ever. Do I want to help him get back at our exes in this way? Oh. Hell. Yes. I want him to get back at my ex hard. With wild abandon. All night long.

Repeat after me: Stay away from the hot girl. The beautiful girl. The f--king ray of sunshine in the middle of your delivery route. Layla Barros is everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I'll never have. She's an innocent young student. I'm a convicted felon. She's rich girl from a nice family. I've got nothing but a broken home. But if I'm an addict, she's my drug. I can't stay away, even though I know I'll ruin her in the end.  

He’s a ruthless stranger. One I can’t see, only feel, thanks to my friends who make a deal with him on my behalf. No names. No personal details. No face to etch into my mind. Just him, me, and an expensive silk tie. What happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas. He warns me he’s full of danger. I never see that side of him. All I experience is his Russian accent, delicious scent, and touch that lights me on fire. One incredible night turns into two. Then we go our separate ways. But fate doesn't keep us apart.

I can feel it. I wake up in the middle of the night freaked out of my mind, paranoid a stranger is there. My skin prickles every time I leave my house, because I know someone is following me. I’m afraid. Alone. And there’s only one person left to turn to. The stepbrother I never met. He’s the president of a notorious motorcycle club and exactly the kind of person I need to protect me - cutthroat, cocky, dangerous. Little did I know, hot as all holy hell Ky Parish, downright loathes me. You know what they say - there's a fine line between love and hate. And I'm walking it.

Signing on as a company driver for Brandt Ideas felt like a dream. Big-girl salary. Stellar benefits. Glorious people - minus one. Nicholas Brandt was put on Earth to drive me insane. Of course, he's my boss man. He spent the first month mistaking me for a dude. Then he “apologized” with the grace of a drunken moose. A perfect grump with a brutal reputation. A heart-thief sculpted like a fallen angel. A master at making me question all of my life decisions. Why is it always the terrible ones who make a girl tingle?