Ergebnis für "Don't play with your Boss" in Frauenliteratur

In der linken Hand einen Cocktail, im rechten Arm eine Frau – genau so sieht das ideale Fest der Liebe für den Weihnachtsmuffel Saint Barker aus. Der begehrte Junggeselle flieht seit Jahren in die wunderschöne Karibik, um dem ganzen scheinheiligen Weihnachtszauber und der Party bei seinen Eltern zu entkommen. Nur blöd, wenn ein Unfall genau diese Flucht verhindert und er stattdessen mit einer wildfremden Frau in der Notaufnahme landet, statt im Flieger.

Poppy Bloom planned to finish her PhD and walk straight into a job at her university. But here she is, unemployed and living back at her mum's. She scores herself an internship at the hottest radio station in town, joins a netball team and renews her friendship with Leanne. Spending time with Leanne's gorgeous twin Tom is just a bonus. But life has a way of tripping you up when you least expect it, and Poppy soon must decide where her priorities lie....

My billionaire boss is the absolute last person I’d marry. Until a deal with the devil forces me down the aisle...ready to say yes to the boss. I once compared Victor St Clair to Satan, but that’s unkind. Even the devil treats his demons better than St Clair treats me. I know his schedule by heart. He can’t remember my first name. So when he calls me into his office, I’m expecting another rant. Instead he says he needs to get married to inherit the St Clair fortune. Oh, and the kicker? He wants to marry me. His assistant.

Former Broadway dancer and current agoraphobic Billy Shine has not set foot outside his apartment in almost a decade. He has glimpsed his neighbors--beautiful manicurist Rayleen, lonely old Ms. Hinman, bigoted and angry Mr. Lafferty, kind-hearted Felipe, and nine-year-old Grace and her former addict mother, Eileen. But most of them have never seen Billy. Not until Grace begins to sit outside on the building's front stoop for hours every day, inches from Billy's patio.

Don't harass her about parasailing or taking Italian language courses. Forget about suggesting she join a gym. Marie Sharp may be a little creaky in the bones as she heads toward the big 6-0, but she's fine with it. She would rather do without all the moving-to-Florida-bicycling-across-Mongolia-for-the-hell-of-it hoopla that her friends insist upon. She's already led an exciting life: she came of age in the 1960s, after all.