Legally Mine

Enemies turn to lovers in this bad boy billionaire romance with a twist. I had a plan. Finish law school. Start a job. Stay away from men like Brandon Sterling. Cocky, overbearing, and richer than the Earth, he thinks the world belongs to him, and that includes me. Yeah, no. Think again. It doesn't matter that his blue eyes look straight into my soul, or that his touch melts my icy reserve. It doesn't even matter that past all that swagger, there's a beautiful, damaged man who has so much to offer beyond private planes and jewelry boxes. But I had a plan: no falling in love.  

Some women just have it - that combination of stunning looks and sexual confidence that brings men to their knees. Not me. My last boyfriend once fell asleep while we were...you know. Not my proudest moment. And my crush on my hot, arrogant, and oh-so-unattainable CEO? Never going to happen. But one night, after too much wine, I find myself online, creating a profile for a sex kitten called SweetVixen. Safe behind my computer screen, I'm suddenly the seductive goddess of my wildest imagination.

There were always whispers about my roommate at Hillcrest Academy. The wealthiest of the wealthy sent their kids to our boarding school, and Brooke Bennett had been at the top, though I never quite knew why. She was fun and outgoing, but she kept quiet about her family. The only things she showed me were photographs of her brothers. I became fascinated with her second-oldest brother. Kai Bennett. Smoldering. Hypnotic. Alluring. Kai had eyes that pulled me in and a face that haunted my dreams.

It all started with a sexy selfie. Texted to the wrong number. Oops. Not my finest moment - but I have nothing to be ashamed of. She thought I was no better, and I quote, than the knuckle-dragging douchebags she was never dating again. It was a stupid dare from a girl I’d met online, but since she’d given me a fake number, I didn’t feel bad that my interests were suddenly focused elsewhere - on the fiery and sharp-tongued Peyton that I found myself sparring with over text. The following day, my case of mistaken identity came back to bite me in the banana.

After personal assistant Kiersten Abbott wins sixty-nine million dollars in the lotto, she suddenly has more than enough money to quit her impossibly demanding job. But where's the fun in that? She decides to stay and exact a little revenge on her insufferable ass of a boss.

Zack Morgan is the king of the ice and the bedroom, but nothing prepares him for the mystery girl who shows up everywhere he does - frat parties, his favorite bar, and finally his front door with an offer he can't refuse. The only rule in her boyfriend bargain: no falling in love. But after one (um, two) smoking-hot hookups, he's done with pretending and vows to make their fake relationship real. Too bad she can't trust a player with a reputation for breaking hearts.

Dear Sexy AF Intern, I know you don't care that I'm the CEO of this company, and you're just an intern. I also know you're not impressed by my power or my wealth, and that's fine. You think you've got me all figured out from working alongside me for two weeks, but you don't know me. Not really. You don't know that I'm a single dad to twin toddlers, or that those two little girls matter more to me than this entire hotel chain. 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.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’d had four years to stew on what Daria Followhill did to me...now my heart was completely iced. I took her first kiss. She took the only thing I loved. I was poor. She was rich. The good thing about circumstances? They can change. Fast. Now, I’m her parents’ latest shiny project. Her housemate. Her tormentor. The captain of the rival football team she hates so much. Yeah, baby girl, say it. I’m your foster brother. There’s a price to pay for ruining the only good thing in my life. She’s about to shell out some serious tears.

"Do Not Respond" emails are meant to be sent to yourself only - never to be reread or responded to. Vent about your mean boss and don't focus on the scruff on his chin. Ignore the butterflies that flutter as he stares back at you and concentrate on his condescending tone. I wish I'd listened. I wish I'd never drank my body weight in vodka and sent him a venting email, telling him exactly what I really thought about his Lycra-wrapped package and the way he makes my body hum.  

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.” Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true. The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there.

I've always been a good girl. I work hard, I follow the rules, I always achieve my goals. But sometimes good girls want things that aren't good for them. Or someone who isn't good for them. Like their new boss. And sometimes they do very bad things to get his attention. Like sell their virginity in an auction. Who knew he'd be so very, very mad? Maybe this was not my best laid plan....

I couldn't have scripted a more perfect night. For one fantastic evening, at a masquerade party in the heart of Manhattan, I'm not the millionaire everyone wants a piece of. Fine - multimillionaire. But who's counting all those commas? Not me, and not the most intriguing woman I've ever met. And that's why I'm eager to get to know her more, since my mystery woman seems to like me for me, rather than for my huge...bank account. Everything's coming up aces. Until the next day, when things get a little complicated. (Newsflash - a lot complicated.)

I have loved Channing Monroe all my life. In first grade, he asked for my Trapper Keeper. I hit him in the head with it. Third grade, we were best friends. We kissed in seventh grade. In eighth grade, he turned into a bad boy and the rest was a tumultuous storm. Growing up, the problem was never love for us. Bad times. Good times. There were times when I felt our love in every inch of my body, vibrating, making me feel like it could bring me back to life. The problem was us. The problem is that we're living in two different worlds now. Fallen Crest and its millionaires for me. 

My resignation letter was rejected by my boss with his sexy, trademark smirk and an "I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...." So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I'm stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition....

When I’m offered the chance to leave New York to live in London for three months, I can’t pack my suitcase fast enough. As soon as I touch down, I’m obsessing over red telephone boxes, palaces, and all the black cabs. But my favorite place is the tube. It’s wall-to-wall hot British men in suits.