Guess who moved in next door? NYC’s top bachelor. And I’m not swooning—I’m cringing. He’s everything I despise. Grumpy. Arrogant. The neighbor from hell. The bigger bombshell? He’s a cutthroat hotel tycoon, now a major shareholder in my hotel. And guess what? He’s convinced he can charm me out of the rest.

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.

When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.

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.

Gabriel Ferrara is tall and handsome, and most days she wants to stab her eyes out with a pencil, anything to stop her seeing his perfection. How any female could work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him is beyond her. Then he opens his mouth and she remembers why. He's bossy and sarcastic, with a wit so sharp it could cut glass. Every weekend is the same . . . while he's off living his dream life, she's counting down the days until Monday when she sees him again.

West Archer, Ezekiel Cavanagh, and Xander King. AKA The Unholy Trinity. Ruthless. Ambitious. Intimidating. With dark tastes and even darker desires, they've been searching for the perfect woman to fit into their unique lifestyle for over a decade. But despite their best efforts, none have made it past three months. Believing they're destined to never find the one, they swear to stop looking. Until they meet Lily.

Maddox Lovelace. The captivating football player I met in college. The one I only knew for a week. A week that was...life-changing. Until my phone rang, and I had no choice but to go home. I left Maddox a letter, putting my feelings on paper, giving him my number, hoping he'd call. But he didn't call. He never called. He got drafted into the professional league and lived like a king while I stayed home and struggled to stay afloat.

Macon is the oldest. Thirty-one. Ex-Marine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Army is twenty-eight. A single dad with the most beautiful green eyes. He has no idea who he is, if not a Jaeger brother. Iron will be in prison soon. You’d never think it to meet him. He’s a nice guy, actually. But he can’t stop reacting to everything. Dallas is the one I hate. Twenty-one, cruel, and selfish. He takes and then throws away whatever’s left. And Trace is mine. Or he was for about two seconds. No one can tame him for long. Not that I ever wanted to.

Trauma nurse Aly Cappellucci doesn’t need any more kinks. She likes the one she’s landed on just fine. To her, nothing could top the masked men she follows online. Unless one of those men was shirtless, heavily tattooed, and waiting for her in her bedroom. She dreams about being hunted by one in particular, of him chasing her down and doing deliciously dark things to her willing body. She never could have guessed that by sending one drunken text, those dreams would become her new reality.

It’s been a long time since Walker Ironside left behind Scotland and the memories that haunt him. Yet after years of traveling the world as a bodyguard, Walker misses his homeland enough to return. To a village in the Scottish Highlands that plays host to an exclusive members-only club, Ardnoch Estate. If not happy, Walker is content working with the elite security at the club and maintaining his bachelor lifestyle. What he doesn’t need is distraction in the form of the enticing but too-young newcomer, single mother Sloane Harrow.

One visit to my father in prison—convicted for a murder he didn't commit—and I've attracted the attention of the last man I'd ever want knowing that I exist.

Charming. Devastatingly handsome. Ridiculously rich. Kristoff Baldwin came without warning. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and before I could even realize the impact he was making, I was too far gone, despite knowing the consequences of falling. A future together was the impossible dream. My past haunted me and even he had ghosts of his own. Then everything changed when his past came after me and my daughters.

With green eyes and an easy smile, Frank McCabe stole me away from the nightmares that awaited me at home. But the son of the Irish Mob would never be mine. I belonged to the Italians. And the moment my mother sold me to the head of the Italian Mafia, I became the one the people of Boston were warned about. The only person more feared than me in our city is the Irish Ghost. When I finally flee my marital prison with my sons and my sister in tow, I unwittingly run straight into the ghost of the Irishman who died in a fiery explosion years ago.

The scowl should’ve been my first clue to stay far away from Anson Hunt. The sexy smirk and the fact that he’s my brother’s best friend? Reasons two and three. Not to mention, he’s the new contractor working on my house. He’s everything I’m not: grumpy, rude, and more than a little attached to his solitude. It doesn’t matter how many times I try to kill him with kindness; the man simply won’t crack. Until he sees me shatter. Because when my world comes crashing down around me, Anson is the one catching me as I fall.

The first letter arrived the day my husband was buried. It was postmarked from the state penitentiary, and contained a single sentence: I’ll wait forever if I have to. It was signed by Dante, a man I didn’t know. Out of simple curiosity, I wrote back to ask him what exactly he was waiting for. His reply? You.