What happens when the only person you ever trusted betrays you? Hope Daniels was my friend. My confidant. Right up until the day she stabbed me in the back and cost me everything. My family. My fortune. My legacy. Now my father’s been murdered and his will might be the death of me. It wasn’t enough to banish me 15 years ago. Even dead, he cant resist twisting the knife. He’ll give me back everything I lost, everything he stole...if I marry Hope. To make matters worse, the fate of the town rests in my hands.

Three books of steamy, sexy, action-packed billionaire romance! Together in one volume, all three books in the Amazon Bestselling Alpha Billionaire Club Series!

Josephine: It was the worst blind date in the history of the universe, until Holden Winters swept in and rescued me. Are you kidding? Holden Winters? A scion of the notorious Winters family, Holden is gorgeous, wealthy, and brilliant. He dates socialites and pop stars, not computer science grad students more comfortable in a hoodie than couture. Our night together was a fantasy...and a huge mistake.

Summer - Evers Sinclair is dangerous. One flash of that teasing smile, and I know he’s going to ruin me. He makes my body shiver and my brain melt. He’s also a huge mistake. Girls like me don’t land guys like Evers. But every time he knocks on my door, I let him in. I thought we understood each other. I thought we were playing the same game. I was wrong.

If you throw an Irish billionaire out of a plane at 40,000 feet, would he fly? That's the question I ask myself on our flight when Declan Bryne told me that it’d be “grand" if I could stop talking. I can’t help it. I’m a nervous flyer. But that should've been my sign to hit EJECT! Because this is doomed to fail. He’s a total grump. He obviously doesn’t like me. He's too distractingly gorgeous to be around for any length of time. And he’s made it clear that as soon as he can find another nanny, I’m gone.

Mari Marcosa may be head of her family’s mafia empire, but the new enemy hiding in the shadows is determined to destroy her—piece by piece. She has no idea who she can trust. Until three men become the very foundation of her survival. Greyson: Her best friend, her second-in-command, her savior. The one she always needed but couldn’t have. Dominic: Her new underboss with molten eyes and a smile made for war. He brings out a gentle side in Mari she doesn’t know if she can afford.

I’ve had more than enough relationship drama to last a lifetime, so romance with Stevie Palmer, the gorgeous server I had a hot one-night stand with, isn’t in the cards. However, she would make the perfect fake girlfriend to help me win my custody battle. When I offer her an obscene amount of money to play along, she agrees. I insist this arrangement is strictly business. No feelings. No complications. Easy, right?

You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

You want to know the secret to everlasting happiness? Never fall in love. That was the wisdom my father imparted to us James boys after our mom died, and it’s a piece of advice that’s served me well. Until dear old Dad asks me for a favor over Sunday brunch. No big deal, right? I love making my old man happy. Except this “favor” is a lot more complicated than picking up his dry cleaning. Dad wants me to marry and provide a few heirs for the James empire, and he’s even done me the courtesy of handpicking my bride-to-be. Lucky me.

Posey Evans is looking to take her career as a romance author to the next level, shifting from historical love stories to writing about the high stakes world of formula racing. Wanting to immerse herself in the sport, Posey manages to secure full access to the Crown Velocity Racing team by faking credentials as a journalist. When she’s granted unlimited face-to-face time with one of the teams’ best drivers, Posey is equal parts elated and terrified because while she’s getting exactly what she wants, she can’t afford to have her secret exposed.

As your paralegal (and ex), I have to be honest: You’re a horrible lawyer. Honestly, the worst I’ve ever seen. You never communicate, you pile on overtime, and you’re constantly in a bad mood. Now, about those panties on your desk. No, that wasn’t a desperate cry for your attention. It was the result of a lost bet with my roommate. But if you were even half the lawyer you claim to be, you’d have figured that out without all the ego-tripping.

She’s my mission. My prize. My obsession. Ivy Kingston is the most wanted woman in the world for reasons she is completely oblivious to, reasons I intend to capitalize on. She needs a husband to receive her inheritance, so I’m on the hunt for a wife. As long as it’s her. I’m not who she thinks I am. But she has no idea who she really is either. I’ll be her groom. Her keeper. Her lover. And quite possibly her demise.

Seraphina Moretti is half in love with her best friend's brother. An arranged marriage is in her future, and the groom is not the object of her affection. But then the devil of Wall Street whispers in her ear. Telling her to follow her heart, that the unrequited love she's feeling is reciprocated. She just needs to use a ploy as old as time—jealousy.

With one glance at her in the club, I’m ready to claim her for the night. Dark, flowing hair. A smile that causes my heart to pound. Eyes that pierce my soul. And a perfect body that makes every part of me pulse. She’s addictive. Electrifying. Consuming. I’ve never wanted anyone more. Our eyes meet, but she looks right past me. She isn’t here for me. She’s here for the music. For the first time in my life, a woman makes me work for it. Her indifference fuels the fire inside me. The result? One night. No names. No introductions.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.