Jaclyn Long. Beauty and brains. And the heart of my new obsession. She doesn't remember the first time we met. It's better that way. I mean, if you ask the media, or pretty much anyone at all, I'm not exactly "boyfriend material." More like the King of the A-holes according to Jaclyn. That's a direct quote. And if she knew who I was, there's no way she'd let me get close. Slide in, so to speak.

Jess: Meet Mark Donovan. Ex-Army sniper. CEO of a multi-billion dollar global empire. Chiseled to the nth degree. And a man I want nothing to do with.I know the type. Dangerous. Sexy. A bad-boy who fills out a Tom Ford suit or pair of Calvin's in equally drool-worthy ways. At his core, the worst kind of heartbreaker. The kind who doesn't even know he did it.

To the outside world, I'm known only as Z. The enforcer. A widower with nothing to lose. An ex-SEAL, sworn to keep one vow: Protect the D'Angelo's at all costs. I'm not a good man, and I never claimed to be. Protecting her was second nature. Nothing more. Claiming her was just a one-night escape. But she made one mistake....A cardinal sin. Slipping away on her terms. Not mine. No strings. No commitments. No names? No way. There's just one price for my protection. And it's her. Full steam ahead.

The first time I met Dawson Reed, we wound up in bed. The problem was, neither of us knew the other were there. When I woke up in the middle of the night and found a stranger next to me, instinct kicked in and I attacked the intruder. Only it turned out, the man wasn’t an intruder at all. Dawson had rented this cabin, too. Apparently, a system glitch allowed a duplicate booking. We’d soon find out we were in town for the same wedding, and Dawson was the groomsman I’d been warned about. He was as tall, dark and jaw-droppingly gorgeous as my best friend had described.

What would you do if you walked in on your husband cheating? I'll tell you what I did: Ran out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back. A month later, I'm broke, jobless, almost homeless. But then, while filling in as a waitress at a fancy restaurant, I trip and land in the lap of a gorgeous stranger.

On my 18th birthday, my father, the senator, gives me the gift he thinks every little girl dreams of. The man of my dreams, and the wedding to match. Stefan Zoric is heir to an elite worldwide modeling agency. Practically a prince. My arrangement is simple, as far as sham marriages go. I give him my virginity, behave as the perfect wife, and he'll pay for the college degree my father found irrelevant. But I don't want to be the perfect wife. I want him to want me the way I want him.

My father was always a gambling man. Unfortunately, he never could pick winners. When the wolves closed in, he chose himself, like always. He traded his freedom... for mine. He forced me to marry. Now Dante Bellanti owns my body. I'm just another possession for a man who already has too much. So I won't let him have my heart. But you know what they say about gambling.

I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

Rule Number 1: Do Not Sleep with Clients. I was the best agent in the industry. More ruthless and cutthroat than any arrogant bastard you'd ever met. The top actors in Hollywood came to me to get signed. When I saw James Ryne, America's Sweetheart, standing across the bar, I wanted her body like I'd never wanted anything before. I broke rule number one. But, after all, I was a man. No one had ever mistaken me for a saint.

Weston King knows how to play. But wild nights and owning an extensive collection of women's panties don't carry the thrill they once did, so when his business partner, Donovan, suggests an outrageous plan to allow them to take over their competition, Wes takes him up on the offer. The crazy idea? Marry the competitor.