I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

I fell in love with Beckett when I was 7. He broke my heart when I was 15. When I was 18, I promised myself I’d forget about him. And I did. For a dozen years. But now he’s back home. Here. In Darling Lake. And I don’t know if I should give in to the temptation swirling between us or run the other way.

There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement, or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game (because, apparently, he’s a professional athlete). Nor how to handle it when you get to the game and realize he’s freaking famous, since half of the 20,000 people in the stands are wearing his jersey.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

Three months ago, I almost got hit by a car. The guy behind the wheel was as gorgeous as they come. We got to talking and… well, things got a little carried away, if you know what I mean. But when it was over, we went our separate ways. Except, not quite. The little plus sign on this pregnancy test tells me our story isn't over. But that's a problem for another day. First, I have to go to my sister's engagement party. When I see who she's marrying, my jaw hits the floor.

Lennox Kennedy is beautiful, loud, and the love of my life. She's also my ex-girlfriend. The first time I saw her after ten years apart, I slammed into the plexiglass minutes before our game was set to begin. The second time I threw up. The third time's a charm apparently because as my fiancée and I walked into an appointment to meet the woman hired to plan our nuptials—there she was again. Obviously, I did what any smart man would do—I called off the wedding. I don't have a plan per se, other than winning back the only girl I've ever loved.

You know the story where the hero comes in and saves the day, rescuing the heroine right in the nick of time? This isn't that story. Instead of a knight in shining armor, he's a sexy, tatted-up Bratva boss with a reputation for being brutal and fierce. Vasily finds me after I've already been brought to my lowest—broken by cruel men until I barely recognize myself. He doesn't offer me salvation. He offers me protection and revenge. And I gladly take it. Because I don't need a knight in shining armor. I need a villain who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

I was never supposed to fall in love with Gabriel Sullivan. He has always been off-limits in more ways than one. But, for all the reasons we should be apart, there's one that keeps drawing me back to him—he is the only man I've ever loved. Every stolen glance, every smile, every brush of his fingertips only make me want him more. Samantha Donovan used to call me her angel, but the things I'd like to do to her make me feel like the devil.

One wardrobe malfunction. Two people who don’t belong together. Three awful words: “Be my wife."

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

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. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

One night. No names. No commitment. That was our agreement. But Spencer Lancaster was addictive. And I was high. High off his taste, starved for his kiss, and desperate for his touch. So when he asked me to stay, to enjoy his company for more nights than I knew I should, I wasn't in the right mind to say no. Everything was perfect. A dream come true. But half a world away, there were secrets. Lies. Insecurities. All of the truths that could tear us apart.

On the run from ruthless killers, I take a job at a remote mountain estate tutoring a little boy. It's the ideal shelter from the storm that has engulfed my life, but there is a catch. The boy's father is the most beautiful, most dangerous man I've ever met. Darkly seductive and filthy rich, Nikolai Molotov is as magnetic as he is enigmatic. Bruised knuckles and tailored suits, tender endearments and dirty promises—everything about my new employer draws me in, even as my instincts warn that my safe haven just might be the devil's lair. My protector may turn out to be my captor.

They thought she was unsuitable as a bride because she was mute. I thought that made her perfect. Silent. Invisible. I could pretend she didn’t even exist.