It started out like any normal day. Then the fender bender happened. The guy I collided with drove an expensive car and was drop-dead gorgeous. Too bad he was also a total jerk. We argued over whose fault it was and any other thing that came out of his condescending mouth. Eventually, the police came and we went our separate ways. The insurance companies would have to figure things out. I had a job interview to get to anyway - one I was excited about. Though that excitement changed to disappointment the moment the person interviewing me walked in. The guy from the accident.

The New York Times bestseller. He was someone who belonged in my wildest fantasies instead of a rest stop in the middle of Nebraska. A sexy, cocky, Australian named Chance was the last person I expected to run into on my cross-country drive. When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours. My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense. I wanted him, but Chance wouldn't make a move.

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. When his stop came, he got up suddenly and left. So suddenly, he dropped his phone on the way out. I might have picked it up. I might have gone through all of his photos and called some of the numbers. I might have held onto the mystery man's phone for days, until I finally conjured up the courage to return it.

I'm writing this letter because it's highly doubtful I'll ever garner the courage to say this to your face. So, here goes. We're totally wrong for each other. You're the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I'm just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England. But here's the thing... for some bloody reason, I can't stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.

Money or love? Which would you choose? You probably just answered the question in your head thinking it's an easy decision. For me, it's not. Did I mention it's a lot of money? A hell of a lot. I needed to go far away to think it through. As I embarked on an impulsive trip, I hit a detour when I met sexy Carter in the airport lounge. We struck up a heated conversation. Then, he left. I thought I'd never see him again. But fate had other plans. Surprise! He was the pilot of my flight. The bigger surprise was the adventure that followed after the plane landed.

I met Bianca in an elevator. She was on her way to interview me when we got stuck. The beautiful raven-haired reporter assumed I was a delivery guy because of the way I was dressed. She had no clue I was really Dex Truitt, the wealthy, successful businessman she'd dubbed "Mister Moneybags" - her afternoon appointment. Bianca told me how much she hated Dex's type - snobby, over-educated, silver-spooned men who didn't appreciate the simple things in life.