Ergebnis für "The Hunter" in Liebeskomödie

My contract is up with the Carolina Comets this year, and I need to get it together if I want to stay with the team. I need relaxation, not a relationship. But when I’m scrolling on a dating app and stumble across the pretty girl who almost ran me over, I know I can’t let her walk away this time. Harper is funny, smart, and doesn’t care about hockey. I’m not supposed to be focusing on anything other than my career, yet I can’t get Harper off my mind. I know I shouldn’t fall for her…but I think I already have.

Dane is a former SEAL turned CEO. Oh, how I wish CEOs weren’t that irresistible. As a self-made woman who never used her daddy’s resources, I have a ton of pride. I would never risk my career by sleeping with my boss. I would never destroy my reputation by falling into bed with my dad’s best friend. Or so I thought. Yes, I did those exact things but that’s not even the worst part. I’ve got a bigger problem to deal with. Not one but two problems. I’m having his twins, and I’m effectively panicking. Am I about to lose my heart, my career, and my sanity all at once?

The good news is my nemesis has made it abundantly clear the feeling is mutual. He did call me pretty, though, in the midst of a heated screaming match. Which would have been flattering, if I didn’t loathe him so much. But whatever. I don’t care how handsome he might be, or how charming the rest of the world probably finds him, guys who look like aged-out boy banders aren’t my type. Add to that, he’s got a knack for being in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time, and I was thrilled to march away from our angry skirmish and never see the bastard with the piercing blue eyes, ever again.

Ich habe dich seit Jahren nicht mehr gesehen. Du findest mich witzig, weil ich hohe Ziele habe? Deshalb wohne ich jetzt im Zimmer neben dir. Welche Pläne ich genau mit dir habe, findest du noch früh genug heraus.

Rule number one for the team owner’s daughter? Don’t date the players. Especially not hotheaded tight ends with tattoos and impulse-control problems. That’s why Dominic Walker is completely off my radar. Sort of. Babysitting the team troublemaker when he’s forced to volunteer for the foundation where I work means I can’t exactly avoid him. I wish I had though. Because once I get to know Dominic, it’s almost impossible to ignore the feelings he brings out in me. Pretty soon, I’m breaking all my rules. I just have to hope he doesn’t break my heart in the process.

Vampire bounty hunter Nathaniel Newburg follows his mark into Nocturne Falls, a place where it's easy for anyone to hide and blend in. At first it seems as though he has his prey cornered, only to confront a beautiful feline-shifter, Camille Nahuel, instead. She dances around the floor with sultry steps, instructing a ballroom class, and dances around his heart even faster. Oh, tango, the game is on. Can Nathaniel control his annoyance long enough to finish his job and save his love?

Isobel: I’m on the run from my evil stepmother, but no one can know. Least of all my new boss, Hunter Dawkins. We might have had one amazing night together, but the next morning he went colder than a Wall Street banker’s heart during a charity ball. Hunter: I have big plans for my large-animal veterinary clinic, and they don’t include taking on a gorgeous, fast-talking city-slicker for a summer intern. The fact that she’s got legs for days and curves that could make a grown man weep? Or that we spent one unforgettable night together? Doesn’t mean a thing.

Graydon St. John doesn't do dramaor public appearances. The brooding defensive end for the San Francisco Foghorns prefers silence, solitude, and avoiding headlines. But when a league-wide PR scandal forces him into a media stunt at the city zoo, he's suddenly face-to-face with squawking birds, nosy fans, and the zookeeper who seems to hate his guts on sight. Maple Baker loves her flamingos. Loud, pink, messy? Sure. But they're hers. And the last thing she needs is a grumpy football player stomping into her sanctuary with a bad attitude and a bigger ego.

When a public meltdown ruins chef Summer Turner’s career, she flees to her hometown in the Pacific Northwest, hoping to rediscover her passion for cooking. Summer doesn’t want to work for someone else again, but when her father secures her a job at a local cidery, she doesn’t dare say no, even if it means working for scowling former NHL player Ezra Rawlings.

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Dean Evans is the worst. Not only does the devil in disguise steal my pie on a regular basis, he also lives in the apartment right. Next. Door. I see him all the time. At the mailboxes. In the elevator. Every single morning. It's exhausting because he's exhausting. Now, after setting his apartment on fire, he's my roommate, and he's the worst at that, too. I don't know what possessed me to let him stay with me. Pity, perhaps? I do know that I won't be falling for his charm.

I built my billion-dollar business slinging a hammer. Not with a law degree like the rest of my tight-knit family. An entire chain of luxury resorts bears my name. But that’s a cold comfort when the woman I love hates my guts. She should, considering how things ended.

What happens in Vegas doesn't always stay there. I would know. I'm coming home with a brand-new ring on my finger. My wife: Ryan Bell. We're polar opposites. She's sunshine and happiness. I'm grumpy and scarred—literally. We could get it annulled and no one would be the wiser. Only problem? We posted about it online, and it's already making headlines. I can't afford to get that kind of attention and tank my career, and Ryan needs my help too. We make a plan: stay married for one year, play our roles, and divorce amicably at the end. No harm, no foul.

When Zach Hastings and I get into a wrong-number mix-up, we don't follow the rules. We keep texting and flirting because he's wicked funny and perfectly nerdy and a wonderful distraction. I'm not looking for love, and Zach definitely had the wrong number. But maybe...maybe he's the right guy.

Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons...multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, 24-7. We're talking full-fledged working roommates.

When Lilah Maddison's mother keeps trying to set her up on dates she's not interested in, she blurts out that she's already seeing someone. The problem? She's single. So, I step in to help and agree to pretend to be her boyfriend for an event. But when things go awry, we're no longer just dating—we're engaged. Now, I have to find a way to keep her family off her back and our team in a playoff spot, all without falling in love with Lilah, which seems more impossible with each passing day.

What’s worse than spilling coffee all over my billionaire boss? Accidentally emailing him my answers to a sex quiz. That was me. I did that. I might be a genius, but that was really dumb. I sneak into the office to delete it, but it’s too late. He knows my naughtiest fantasies. Instead of firing me, he wants to fulfill every one of them. He’s everything I didn’t know I wanted: older, fiercely protective, and a possessive streak the size of Montana. But can he really want someone like me with a past full of man struggles and a head full of math problems?

Running into your ex is never ideal. Running into your ex who is now dating your nemesis is a literal nightmare. That’s how I found myself in a sheer panic, reaching for the closest guy at the bar and kissing him. And to my delight he was easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

I've been friends with Artemis since high school, when we bonded over crushing on the same guy. Six years later, we’re roommates in our shiny new post–college lives—she's training for the Olympics while I start my pro football career. We’ve both recently had bad break–ups and she says if she’s going to get back out there, she needs dating lessons. Naturally, she asks me—her completely platonic roommate—to teach her. We practice eye contact. Hand holding. Cuddling during movies. Because that's what best friends do, right? Practice intimacy? For science?

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