As a chief stewardess on luxury superyachts, I massage egos, pamper the spoiled, and cater to the most outlandish desires of the rich and famous. I've never had a guest want something I can't give them. Until British businessman Hayden Wolf comes aboard - all sexy swagger and mysterious requests. But guests are strictly off limits and I've never broken a rule. Not even bent one. My family are depending on me and I can't lose my job. Only problem is Hayden Wolf is looking at me like I just changed his life. And he's touching me like he's about to change mine.

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. 

I was born into British aristocracy, but I've made my fortune in Manhattan. New York is now my kingdom. Back in Britain, my family is fighting over who's the next Duke of Fairfax. The rules say it's me - if I'm married. It's not a trade-off worth making. I could never limit myself to just one woman. Or so I thought until my world is turned upside down. Now, the only way I can save the empire I built is to inherit the title I've never wanted - so I need a wife. To take my mind off business I need a night that's all pleasure.

I've made every one of my billions of dollars myself - I'm calculating, astute and the best at what I do. It takes drive and dedication to build what I have. And it leaves no time for love or girlfriends or relationships. But don't get me wrong, I'm not a monk. I understand the attention and focus it takes to seduce a beautiful woman. They're the same skills I use to close business deals. But one night is where it begins and ends. I'm not the guy who sends flowers. I'm not the guy who calls the next day.

I keep my two worlds separate. At work, I'm King of Wall Street. The heaviest hitters in Manhattan come to me to make money. They do whatever I say because I'm always right. I'm shrewd. Exacting. Some say ruthless. At home, I'm a single dad trying to keep his 14-year-old daughter a kid for as long as possible. If my daughter does what I say, somewhere there's a snowball surviving in hell. And nothing I say is ever right.

Meeting Beth Harrison in the first-class cabin of my flight from Chicago to London throws me for a loop, and everything I know about myself and women goes out the window. I'm usually good at reading people, situations, the markets. I know instantly if I can trust someone or if they're lying. But Beth is so contradictory and confounding, I don't know which way is up.

It was just a typical Monday. Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. Or so I thought, until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch to. My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. And that was the good part of my day. Because the gorgeous man who crouched down and looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive was none other than my ex.

My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards. We met at a wedding. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction. I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me. We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.

As one of Hollywood's A-listers, I have the movie industry in the palm of my hand. But if I'm going to stay at the top, my playboy image needs an overhaul. No more tabloid headlines. No more parties. And absolutely no more one-night stands. Filming for my latest blockbuster takes place on the coast of Maine, and I'm determined to stay out of trouble. But trouble finds me when I run into Lana Kelly.

Jackson "The Beast" Boudreaux is rich, gorgeous, and unbelievably rude to the staff at Chef Bianca Hardwick's New Orleans restaurant. Bianca would sooner douse herself in hot sauce than cook for Jackson again, but when he asks her to cater his fundraiser, Bianca can't refuse, knowing the cash will help pay her mother's medical bills. Then Jackson makes another outrageous request: Marry me. The unconventional offer includes an enormous sum - money Bianca desperately needs, even if it does come with a contract - and a stunning ring.

How long does it take to get over your first love? Eight years should be long enough. My mind knows that, but there's no convincing my heart. Guys like Joel weren't supposed to fall for girls like me. He had his pick of women at University, but somehow the laws of nature were defied and we fell crazy in love. After graduation, Joel left to pursue his career in New York. He wanted me to go with him but my life was in London. We broke up and my heart split in two. I haven't seen or spoken to him since he left.

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.

Life is smooth sailing until these new roomies find themselves stuck between a rock and a very hard place. Because lusting after the one person you shouldn't ever mess around with - your new roommate - is like cardinal rule number one. Get ready for four complete friends-to-lovers rom-com standalones: The Room Mate, The Play Mate, The House Mate, and The Soul Mate.

Growing up, the three of us were friends. He was the nerd. I was the playboy. She was the beauty. Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits. He lied. I went off to college, and he got the girl. Amber never knew how I felt. They were together for years - before he broke her heart. Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch. When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.

It started out like any other morning on the train - until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle. He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world. Who did the stuck-up suit think he was...God? Actually, he looked like a god. That was about it.