JB

Hudson Hopper is in trouble. After doing his business partner Jude a favor by hiring Jude’s younger sister Sloane, Hudson very quickly finds out that she is a massive distraction—especially since she’s now his assistant. Things get more complicated when Hudson volunteers Sloane to fill in as a bridesmaid for a potential client, and she agrees…with certain stipulations. She’ll be a part of the Regency wedding—corset and all—if Hudson marries her.

Lulu Sonnet is the bane of my existence. She’s caused me more physical pain than any man should ever endure. From an accidental throat punch to a near death by shovel—Don’t even get me started on that vicious pool ball accident where she almost robbed me of my family jewels. She’s a hot little heathen, and what’s worse? She’s staying in my brother’s rental house while I’m temporarily living in the guest house. And now she needs a favor. A fake boyfriend.

My plan when I win a date in Vegas with my brother’s hockey star best friend? Poker and go to sleep early. Instead, I wake up with a ring on my finger and the sexy athlete naked in my bed. But Asher’s my best friend too so we’ll get this annulled and laugh about this secret for years to come. Trouble is our wedding pics went viral overnight. Now everyone thinks we’re a real couple. We race back home, where I’ve just landed the big art commission of my dreams and he’s launching a sports charity so we need to look like we meant to tie the knot.

I’m a golden boy. A genius law student, the heir to the Carson empire, and the dutiful son. Or, at least, that's what it looks like from the outside. Deep inside, I have the urge to set the world on fire. I keep these impulses in check, rarely indulging in mayhem. Until one night of debauchery backfires, and I'm caught by a villain. I bury the entire ordeal with the rest of my skeletons. That is, until that night walks into my classroom in the form of my new professor. Kayden Lockwood.

If this arrogant Irish mobster my brother sold my niece to thinks I’m going to play nice over this arranged marriage BS, he should think again. I don’t care if this match with the Mob will make my brother capo of the Five Families. I don’t care how much money, territory, or power it will gain us. I especially don’t care that the Irishman is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. I won’t allow my innocent niece to suffer the same way I did. Even if I have to kill him.

I’m not attracted to men.. Or so I thought before I slammed into Nikolai Sokolov.. A mafia heir, a notorious bastard, and a violent monster.. An ill-fated meeting puts me in his path. And just like that, he has his sights set on me. A quiet artist, a golden boy, and his enemy’s twin brother. He doesn’t seem to care that the odds are stacked against us. In fact, he sets out to break my steel-like control and blur my limits. I thought my biggest worry was being noticed by Nikolai. I’m learning the hard way that being wanted by this beautiful nightmare is much worse.

I have a simple plan. Finish Royal Elite School and get into my dream university. One glance from the school’s king blows my plan up in smoke. One glance and he suffocates my air. One glance and he issues his death sentence. His first words spiral my life into irreparable chaos. “I will destroy you.” Everything about Aiden King is black. Black mind. Black heart. Black soul. I should’ve remained quiet and endured the time I have left. I didn’t. I made the irrevocable mistake of provoking the king on his throne.

I made a terrible mistake. Being a mafia princess, I knew my fate was already decided. But I went ahead and longed for the wrong one. Creighton King is bad news with a gorgeous exterior. He’s silent, brooding, and obviously emotionally unavailable. So I thought it was over. Until he awakens a beast inside me. My name is Annika Volkov, and I’m Creighton's worst enemy. He won’t stop until he breaks me. Or I break him.

What does one do when they completely blow an interview? If you're me, you pick up a one-night stand with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. That's right, after a lousy interview that could have changed everything for me, I headed over to the local small town bar to sulk when the one man I shouldn't want walked in. And when my friend convinced me to take him back to my hotel room, I didn't think about it, I just did it . . . well, I did him.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.