Powerful Men. Real Women.

Grant

The Seasoned Sovereign

Controlled • Magnetic • Strategic • Devastating

Grant has built empires, buried scandals, and survived four marriages without ever losing control. He knows how to negotiate, how to charm, how to win. What he doesn’t know how to do is fall — until Julia walks in and makes control feel overrated.

— Featured Scene —

Grant narrowed his eyes as his mind worked to piece together the woman’s reason for surprise.  Had Sierra mentioned meeting with an author last night when she’d been babbling?

He held out a hand to slow the conversation and find more details, but Sierra was already reacting.

“I don’t care about your manuscript,” she said with a screwed-up face.  “I want you to marry my dad.”

Julia hesitated for a full breath, the shock on her delicate features obvious, though Grant wished he could hear her thoughts.  His hopes tumbled as the woman’s reaction bordered on incredulous. He’d seen this panicked, deer-in-headlights look before in his business dealings. He usually relished having his mark on the run, but this time he didn’t. 

“Wh-what?” Julia finally managed to spit out, her fingers tightened to a death grip on the table’s edge.  

They were losing her.  If they didn’t counteract this, she’d never agree.  Before Grant could step in, Sierra responded in typical Harrington shark fashion. 

“Marry my dad.”  She grabbed the application and dangled it in front of the woman’s face.  “The interview you’re here for.”

Julia’s eyebrows pinched, and her eyes darted from Grant to Sierra.  “But I’m here for the publisher meeting about my manuscript.”

Sierra’s sharp features twisted with confusion.  “What?  What manuscript?”

Julia reached down and tugged a thick stack of papers from her tote bag, slapping it on the table and shoving it toward Sierra.  “My manuscript.  The Illusion of Innocence.  You’re my publisher.”

Sierra’s face went blank as she stared down at the black letters printed on the white paper.  “Ohhhhh.  You’re that Julia Stanton.  You were one of the authors with Heritage.”

“Right,” Julia said, with a nod.  

“Uh, then why did you fill out this application?” Sierra pressed.

“I thought it was part of the interview process.  You said all the authors were being reviewed.”

Sierra’s red lips formed a pout, and she narrowed her eyes.  Grant recognized his daughter gearing up to go on the offensive.  She’d made her choice, and she wouldn’t let it go until she’d battered the competition into submission.  

“Well–”

Grant grabbed her forearm and squeezed as he interjected himself into the conversation.  “Obviously, there has been some sort of misunderstanding here.  But–”

“But you still filled out the application.  So, are you willing to do it or not?”

Sierra’s statement stunned Julia into silence again.  Her eyes slid back and forth between the two of them as her lower lip bobbed up and down.

“Maybe if we–” Grant began.

“No,” Julia burst, interrupting him.  

Grant tugged his chiseled chin back toward his chest at the single word. He hadn’t been told “No” very often, and the word still sometimes surprised him. 

She flicked her gaze from him to the table in front of her, her features still stricken with surprise.  “I-I’m sorry, I’m just here about the manuscript.”

“To hell with the manuscript. We need you, not your book,” Sierra shot back.  

Grant lowered his voice to a hiss.  “Sierra.”

The pained expression on Julia’s features could not be mistaken.  She sat speechless for a moment before she grabbed the bound papers and shoved them into her bag.  

“Wait,” Grant said as she rose from her seat, muttering an, “okay.”

He popped from his as she hurried toward the entrance.  “Julia, wait!” 

She wove through the remaining women in a flash, her hasty departure stirring the air.  A blinding glare from the sun’s reflection on the swinging door announced her disappearance from the club.

Grant flung his arms in the air, with a huff.  

“Daddy!  Do something!” Sierra demanded, with a stamp of her high heel on the floor.

Grant leaned over to grip the table, his jaw clenched.  “What do you expect me to do?  You’ve driven her away.”

Sierra cocked her head. “If she can’t handle what just happened, then she isn’t the best candidate.  She’s going to have to deal with a lot more than that as the fifth Mrs. Harrington.”

Grant slid his eyes closed before he shoved the table.

“See what I mean?”  She arched an eyebrow at him as she straightened in her seat.  

Grant pressed his lips together and sank into the seat Julia had just occupied. “I guess I’ll call Mitchell.  Maybe he–”

“He what?” Sierra asked.  “Came up with another Hail Mary play overnight?”

Grant flicked his gaze under the table.

“Daddy?”

He leaned forward, hooked his finger around a worn leather strap, and tugged it upward.  A purse dangled from his finger.  

“She forgot her purse.”

A smile tugged back one corner of his lips as an idea formed.  This was the in he needed to turn this negotiation around.

“Big deal.  I’ll call a messenger to run it back to her.  We have bigger problems to deal with.”  She snatched her phone from the table and tapped the screen. 

Grant grabbed her wrist, stopping whatever communication she was sending.  “No.  I’ll take it back to her.”

Sierra rolled her eyes.  “Seriously?  This is a job for a courier.  I’ll pay extra to make it speedy.”

Grant shook his head at her.  “You’re being short-sighted.  You said yourself she was perfect.”

“Ah, except she ran out of here like the roadrunner jetting away from Wile E. Coyote.  She’s not interested, which leaves us with one of the other ladies or scraping this entire idea.”

“You have never been a subtle negotiator.  You scared her.”

“Like I said, she’s going to have to toughen up if she’s going to come into this lion’s den.”

“And she can.  But we need her on board first.  I can do that.  With this.”  He lifted the purse in the air, with a grin.

“You’re going to trade her purse for compliance?”

Grant’s shoulders slumped at his daughter’s hard-nosed approach.  “No, Sierra.  I’m going to be a white knight and take this back to her, then convince her to take the deal.”

He rose from the seat with the bag in hand as Sierra clicked her tongue.  “Do you really think you can pull this off?”

Grant offered her a dimple-ridden smile and flick of his eyebrows.  “Yes.  I am, after all, Grant Harrington.”

Ethan

The Relentless Pursuer

Relentless • Calculated • Intense • Unapologetic

Ethan doesn’t hesitate. He sees what he wants and decides it will be his. Marriage, loyalty, timing — obstacles, not barriers. He builds proximity through boardrooms and strategy, rewrites circumstances with precision, and waits only long enough to make it inevitable. When Olivia tells him she’s married, he doesn’t argue. He simply ensures she won’t be for long.

— Featured Scene —

Our first time out together.  Since it was under the guise of work and she was still married to Daniel, it would be dampened a little, but not by much.  I wouldn’t let it be ruined by a few pesky details like that.  

The car slid to a stop outside of her building, and I waited for the driver to open my door before I stepped into the evening air.  

He waited by the door as I strode to the building, taking the elevator to Olivia’s floor and threading through the halls to her door.  

With a strong knock, I waited for her to answer.  Instead, the door was tugged open by Daniel.  I relished the fact that he wasn’t dressed in any formal attire.  Sweats were perfect for a night on the couch…alone.

“Daniel,” I said with a broad grin as I stepped into their apartment without being asked.  “How nice to see you again.”

“Uh, come in,” he said after I was already inside. “Olivia is just finishing up.”

“Of course,” I said as I eyed him for a second.  “Well, I’d apologize for stealing your wife, but this is vital to our investors’ confidence, so I won’t.”

He offered me a weak chuckle as he shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable.  

Truthfully, I wasn’t about to apologize for stealing his wife.  Not tonight.  Not for a lifetime.  Olivia belonged with me.  Daniel’s behavior now just proved it further to me.  

“I’ll check on Olivia,” he said after a second and darted into the bedroom.

A second later, the soft swish of expensive fabric filled the air, and Olivia hurried from the bedroom, an apology on her delicate features.  “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

I arched an eyebrow, admiring her. “Oh, Olivia, you look stunning.  I selected well.  The dress is perfect for the event.”

She glanced down at it, smoothing the fabric.  “Oh, thank you.”

I slid my gaze to Daniel as he emerged from the bedroom.  “Olivia is going to impress all the investors tonight.”

“Well, I am ready–”

“Actually, you’re not,” I answered.  

“Oh, you forgot your necklace, Liv,” Daniel said.  “Want me to grab it?”

“No need,” I answered, pulling the box from my pocket.  “I arranged for you to borrow this for the evening.  I think it matches perfectly.”

I snapped open the box, noting the widening of her eyes as she spotted the rubies.

“Are those real?” Daniel asked.

I pulled the necklace from the box with a nod. “Indeed, they are.  All thirty carats of them.”

“Ethan, I can’t wear this,” she said.  

I didn’t like the rejection, but I powered through it.  “Of course, you can.”

“What if something happens to it?  I’ll be nervous all night.”

“You’ll be fine.  And don’t worry, I’ll keep my eye on you.”  I grinned as I slid it around her neck and fastened it.  “Perfect.”

She pressed a hand against the rubies before she sucked in a deep breath and grabbed her evening bag.  “Yes, please keep an eye on this.”

“Oh, I will.”  I flicked my gaze to Daniel.  “Daniel.  Have a great night.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.  Liv, have a nice time.  Good luck.”

“Aw, thanks, hon,” she said in a voice that turned my stomach, but not more than the kiss she gave him before she wiped the lipstick from his lips.  

I reminded myself that in minutes she’d be all mine as I offered her my arm.  

I led her from the apartment, leaving Daniel behind.  A minute later, she was sliding into my limo.  As I skirted around to enter through the other door, I grinned to myself.  “Welcome to the rest of your life, Livvie.”

Miles

The Charming Heir

Playful • Confident • Impulsive • Irresistible

Miles has always known how to command a room — a confident grin, a perfectly tailored suit, and the effortless magnetism of a man raised inside a media empire. Women want him. He expects it. He enjoys it. But Lila doesn’t look at him like a prize. She looks at him like a person. What begins as a convenient arrangement turns unexpectedly real when Miles realizes he isn’t performing anymore. For the first time in his charmed life, the Charming Heir isn’t chasing admiration — he’s falling. Hard.

— Featured Scene —

“Passcode?”

“Two seven six three.”

She flicked her gaze to me as she tapped it in.

“It’s random.  No special meaning.”  

I set my hands on my hips as she pulled up my contacts.  

“Just click New at the top,” I murmured, lifting my chin as I tried to catch a glance at the screen.  

Her eyebrow arched, and she pressed her lips together.

“What?” I demanded.  

“Nothing.  I didn’t say anything,” she said as she typed her name and number into the phone. 

“You didn’t have to.  I know a look when I see one.  What’s the problem?” 

She finished saving her contact information, handing the phone back.  “Nothing.  Just that if you want this marriage to look legitimate, you may want to delete Alexa All-Night, Brooke Bed Buddy, and anyone else that suggests you’re still having booty calls.  Or at least change their names to something more subtle.”

“I’m not,” I said defensively as I snatched the phone back.  

“It doesn’t matter.  But a simple check of your phone throws more questions into this marriage than you claim to want.”

For some reason, her dismissal of an extra-marital affair as something she couldn’t care less about hurt more than I expected.  “I’ll delete them, okay?”

“Just change the names,” she said again.  

My jaw flexed as I gritted my teeth, the comment disturbing me.  “I said I’m deleting them.”

I quickly trashed a few of the trashy girls before I pocketed my phone and held my hand out.  “My turn.”

She held the phone closer to her for another moment before she handed it over.  

I flicked it on, disappointed to find no notifications on the lock screen. She rattled off the passcode.  “Zero nine one nine.”

“Reason?” I asked.

“It’s my birthday.”  

I glanced at her to find her grinning at me.  Her smile was infectious, and I returned it.  “That’s a good thing to know about my wife.”

“Yes, you should tell me yours.”

“It’s May twentieth.”

She clicked her tongue. “Aw, I missed it.”

“Don’t worry, there’s always next year,” I murmured as I tried to find anything on her phone that would give me a clue as to why she’d been so interested in it this morning.  

A quick scan of her contacts showed nothing abnormal.  Apparently, if she kept a list of one-night stands, she was more discreet about it.  I cleared my throat as I typed in my information and handed her back the phone.  

She glanced at it, her shoulders slumping as she raised her gaze to mine. “Really?”

“You don’t like it?”

She twisted the phone to face me, her features unimpressed. “Hawthorne Heartthrob?”

I gave her a cheeky grin, wiggling my eyebrows before I grabbed the phone. “Okay, fine.  It’s fixed.”

She glanced at it before she rolled her eyes.  “My Handsome Husband is so much better, you’re right.”

“And one hundred percent true,” I answered.  “Okay, so that takes care of that.”

She tossed the phone onto the nightstand before she grabbed her purse and withdrew my card.  “Here’s your credit card back.”

“Thanks,” I said, sliding it back into my wallet. “Margaret is getting you your own.  Mother’s orders.”

“Who is Margaret?”

“My secretary. See, that’s another thing you should know.  Anyway, she’s getting you your own card so you don’t have to ask for mine.”

Lila nodded. “I will try not to use it.”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head, annoyance pinching my features, “you should use it.  My wife would use it.”

“Okay, I will try to use it.”

“Good, perfect.  Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Anything else that I need to know?” she asked.   

“Uh, my favorite food is filet mignon, medium.  I hate asparagus.  I like fast cars–“

“And fast women,” she said, offering me a coy smile.

“Used to.  Now, I’m completely and hopelessly in love with my wife.”  I shot her an equally brash grin.  

Kyle

The Wild Card

Guarded • Reckless • Loyal • All-In

Kyle doesn’t plan his moves — he feels them. When he spots a mysterious woman in a fast-food restaurant and senses something isn’t right, he doesn’t walk away. He steps in. Guarded and reckless in equal measure, he follows instinct over strategy — even when that instinct drags him into a royal power struggle he never saw coming. Beneath the sharp edges and unpredictable choices is a man who loves without hesitation. The Wild Card doesn’t do halfway. Once he’s in, he’s all-in.

— Featured Scene —

I really shouldn’t have gotten involved.  But I wasn’t very good at staying away from things I should.  

I’d kissed my stepmother—twice. Then another married woman. She’d been nice about it, though—so nice, in fact, that now I lived with her and her husband.

Impulse control and I had never gotten along. And as I stood in that fast-food joint, the scent of fried food making my stomach growl, I proved it once again.

Don’t do it.  My mind repeated the mantra over and over and over again, and yet… I shifted just slightly, studying the striking brunette in front of me as she stared at the soda machine.  

The soft, small features on her delicate face made her exceptionally attractive.  Some people may have said pretty, I’d say beautiful…but when I fell for someone, I fell hard and fast, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge.  

Not that I was in love…yet, but the potential was already brewing in my mind.  

I cleared my throat, shuffling a step closer. “Uh, you need to pick the soda you want.”

She startled, glancing over her shoulder as though she hadn’t even known I was there.  

That was my luck.  Why would the beautiful woman in front of me ever had noticed that I was there?

“Oh, right,” she said.  

My eyebrows pinched a little.  There was something about those two words that piqued my curiosity.  It sounded like she had a slight accent that I couldn’t place.  

She glanced back at the machine again before she shifted aside. “Why don’t you go first? I’m holding you up.”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m in no hurry.”

She offered me a sheepish glance. “The thing is…I don’t know what I want.”

“Can’t decide?” I asked as I stepped forward and jabbed at the button for cola.  As a doctor, I knew better than to drink this stuff, but sometimes you just needed to break the rules.  Right?

She lifted her chin, her eyes focused on the machine like she was studying it.  “I’ve really never had any of this before.”

I filled the other two cups I had with the orange soda my friends loved and snapped the lids onto them.  As I stowed them in the drink carrier, I glanced over my shoulder at her.  

“Is the orange good?” She tilted her head as she stared at the choice I’d just made on the screen.

“Umm, it’s okay.  My friends like it.  I don’t love it.”  I narrowed my eyes slightly at her.  Was this some kind of bizarre flirting?  

I really hoped it was because I was striking out everywhere in love, and for once, it would be nice for someone to actually like me. 

Although, I warned myself, once she heard about my past, she’d probably run screaming.  And my big-mouthed half-sister would make sure she knew exactly how messed up my history was.  From my issues with my dad to the revenge plot and all the other drama, Sierra would scare her off faster than I could say “nice to meet you.”  

For once, though, I really hoped one of the ladies I met wouldn’t care.

“Hmm.  What about the cola?  That’s what you got, right?”

“Uh-huh, I did.  It’s, umm, what about root beer?  They have that.”  

She arched a dark eyebrow, flicking her dark brown eyes to me before she thrust her cup forward. 

I stood there for a minute like a complete idiot before I grabbed it. “Oh, right.  You want me to…okay, sure.  I can get it for you.”

I pressed the depressor to dispense ice into her cup, then tapped on the screen to find the root beer.  

As the liquid poured into her cup, mixing the syrup with the carbonated water, I glanced over my shoulder and grinned at her.  

She offered what looked like a polite smile, hands clasped primly in front of her.  Something about her just didn’t fit the burger joint Alex and Ava had insisted we stop at.  

Her clothes were a little too nice for a five-dollar meal in a place where the floor tiles were only slightly clean. Then again, I was here with a tech billionaire and his wife of twenty years, who had only recently decided to give their marriage a real shot.  

I didn’t have the most conventional friends—maybe this woman was some sort of quirky, off-beat type, too.  

The machine finished dispensing, and I pulled the cup from under the dispenser and snapped the lid on before I shoved a straw into it and handed it back. 

Another polite smile.  Of course.  I definitely did not have skills with the ladies.  

She took a sip, her eyelashes fluttering as the soda hit her tongue. Her delicate, doll-like lips formed a pout before she glanced at me, her features slightly surprised. “It’s good.”

A chuckle escaped me as I grabbed my drink carrier.  “I’m glad you like it.”

I shuffled toward the pick-up counter, and she followed behind me, taking another sip of the soda.  

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, wanting to say something witty or smart, but my mind came up empty.  Instead, I came up with the stupidest possible line. “So, waiting for your order?”

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes darting to the door.  “I ordered something called chicken nuggets.  I’m interested to see what they are.”

I screwed up my face for a second.  Was she some sort of comedian?  I glanced out the window at Alex and Ava sitting at the table outside in the warm sunshine.  I wondered if they’d set me up.  

Ava always teased me that I’d find the one–a woman who would appreciate me for all my oddities and quirks.  “Don’t settle for someone who doesn’t love you for all of you, Doc,” she always told me.

I didn’t believe her.  I had some really not-so-nice things in my background.  I’d blown into New Orleans intent on destroying my billionaire father who had never even known about me.  And that was just the start of the crazy.

My half-sister, Sierra, didn’t call me Crazy Kyle for nothing.  

“Oh, uh, well, we just got burgers.”

“We?” She glanced toward either side of me as though I had invented this detail.  

I poked a finger outside at the table. “I’m with them.”

“Oh,” she answered with a nod, her eyes lingering on Alex for a moment. I assumed she recognized him as the great Alex Stone–inventor of the Stone Phone.  

“Are you here alone?” I asked, immediately regretting my choice of words. Why did I always come across like a stalker in a Lifetime Movie?

“Yes,” she answered.  “Alone.”

I saw my chance and took it. “Then…why don’t you join us?”

She glanced at Alex and Ava again, her head cocking.  “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, you wouldn’t be.  I’m kind of a third wheel already, so you’d be doing me a favor,” I assured her. 

She stared at them for another moment before she set those almost-black eyes on me, then sent my heart spiraling out of control as she nodded. “All right.”

“Great,” I said with a grin that was way too broad.  I thrust my hand forward. “I’m Kyle Carter, by the way.  Dr. Kyle Carter.”

Alex

The Devoted Genius

Quiet • Brilliant • Loyal • Unshakable

Alex has loved Ava for nearly twenty years — even when their marriage was only meant to secure an inheritance. Quiet and brilliant, he built a tech empire while standing faithfully at her side, content with the closeness they shared. But when Ava asks for a divorce to marry someone else, Alex doesn’t explode. He calculates. He remembers. And for the first time in their long history, he refuses to stay silent about what she means to him. The Devoted Genius doesn’t chase loudly — he endures. And he doesn’t give up.

— Featured Scene —

“Did you know that he has an outstanding parking ticket from two years ago?” Alex poked a finger at the screen next to the crime.

Ava offered him an unimpressed stare as she closed the laptop.  “Very cute, Ace.  Very cute.”

“What kind of maniac doesn’t pay their parking tickets?  And why did he have one anyway?  What was he doing there that required him to park illegally?  All questions we do not have answers to, Sparky.”

“And we don’t need them.  His meter probably ran out.”

“Did it?  Or was he committing another more heinous crime while he double-parked?”

She heaved a sigh and shook her head.  “We’re not discussing this.  You shouldn’t have hacked Chris’s phone or his criminal record.”

“We had to know,” Alex answered.

“One of us already knew,” she retorted.

He cocked his head.  “You can’t hack the FBI.  You’re impressive, Avs, but not that impressive.”

“I meant that I know because I know Chris.”

Alex set the laptop on the coffee table with a shake of his head.  “You may think you know the Pillar Pro, but you didn’t know about that parking ticket.”

“Point taken,” she said as she sank onto the couch.  “I’ll confront him right away about it…right after I tell him my quick trip to get a divorce is now going to take weeks.”

Alex plopped onto the couch next to her.  “Maybe don’t say it that way…just a suggestion.”

“I don’t get it, Ace.  What is the problem?”

He shifted on the cushion with a frown.  “I don’t know.  Some…financial anomalies at StoneCorp.  I don’t know what it all means.”

“Financial anomalies?” she questioned.

He shook his head, leaning back into the cushions.  “Accounts that now show different values on the paper files than they do on the electronic ones.  Projects that never existed but show up as expenses now.”

She knitted her brows at the words.  “No one in your accounting department knows about this?”

He leapt from his seat, pacing the floor again as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Most of this predates them.  It’s years’ worth.”

She twisted to face him.  “Years?  How far back does this go?”

“A decade.  We’re still digging into the files.  But you have experience with forensic accounting.  So, you could help me track this all down, right?”

“Alex, I did a few investigations back in college for my internship.  It’s been years at this point.”

“But you’ll remember.”  He leaned his forearms on the back of the couch.  “You’ll help me, right?”

She eyed him, sucking in a deep breath.  “Yes.”

“Excellent.  We’ll go into the office tomorrow, and you can dig into the files.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod.  

“Thank you, Avs.”  He grabbed her hand as he blew out a long breath.

“Seriously?  Ace, all you had to do was ask.  You didn’t have to lure me out here with the divorce stuff.”

He winced as his fingers intertwined with hers.  “Yeah, that’s not totally fake, but let’s not deal with that now.  Let’s see where we stand with this investigation.”

She settled back into the pillows.  “All right.”

“Sorry, you may have to pinch hit with Build-a-Chris until we assess the situation.”

She sucked in a breath as he climbed over the back of the couch to slide onto the cushions next to her.  “I’ll handle it.”

“So, why didn’t you tell your Beam-Beau about our situation?”

Her eyebrows pinched as she stared at the sea undulating outside as the moon rose.  “I don’t know.”

“That sounds…interesting.”  Interesting was hardly the word.  Ava rarely did things without a good reason.  She hadn’t told her fiancé about their marriage.  And she’d lied to him when he’d called.  Why was she hiding information from him?  Was she less sure of their relationship than the ring on her finger suggested? Or was there something else?

She leaned closer to him, making the corner of his lips tug up as he let his arm drape over the back of the couch behind her.  

“It’s good to have you back, Avs,” he said, his voice soft.  

“It’s good to be back, Ace.”  She twisted to stare up at him through her eyelashes with a slight smile.

It reminded him of old times.  They’d been able to pick up where they left off.  They always had been able to.  No matter how much time or distance was between them, they connected on a deeper level.  

“Hey, what do you say to a little old-school game night?”

The corners of her lips turned up, and she raised her eyebrows.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Do you want me to prove I can still beat you in Mario Kart or do you want to team up on Super Mario Three?”

“Mmm, Mario Three,” she answered as he grinned at her. 

“You got it.”  He grabbed his remote and switched on the television over the fireplace before he leapt from his seat.  

“Where are you going?” she called.

“I got orange soda and cheese puffs.”

“No,” she said, her voice teasing as she scrambled to her feet to follow him.  “You’re not serious.”

“I’m totes serious, babe,” he answered as he backed his way to the modern kitchen.  “You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

“I didn’t expect you to actually do our college-era junk food run.”

He grabbed the barrel of cheese puffs from his cupboard before he tugged open the fridge.  “I didn’t.  I’ve got people for that now.” He twisted to offer her a wink.

“Right.  Hey, mind if I change before we settle in?”

“Not at all.  Some of your stuff’s still here if you want to rock it completely retro.”

She shot him a grin before she hurried from the kitchen.  He pulled two orange sodas from the fridge, grabbed the bucket of cheese balls, and made his way back to the living room.  

After he set the drinks and snacks on the floor, he shoved the coffee table out of the way.  He tugged the cushions from the couch and scattered them on the floor.  

He stepped back to admire his setup before he dug the old-school controllers from the storage cupboard.  With the game loaded, he cranked up the volume and plopped onto one of the pillows.

Ava appeared a few minutes later in her unicorn onesie.  

“I see you went old school.”

“I did,” she said with a grin as she tugged a controller from his hand and dropped onto a cushion next to him.  “Dibs on first play.”

“Ouch, I am getting slow,” he said as she toggled into the game and selected her character.

She shot him a coy grin as the first world loaded, and she smashed through it like she’d played the game yesterday.  

As she deftly navigated through the pixelated world on the screen, Alex kept his eyes trained on her instead of the screen, a mix of admiration and wistfulness coursing through him.  

She still had the same concentration face, the same crease between her eyebrows, and slight puckering of her lips.  The sound of button mashing filled the room along with something more–a mix of regret and longing that tugged at his heart.  

“You haven’t lost your edge at all,” he said, cracking open both sodas and passing one to her as she finished up another round.

He grinned at her as he tilted the bottle to her.  “To old times.”

She clinked her bottle against his.  “To old times and beating this entire game before we go to bed.”

The sound of their laughter echoed through the room, a reminder of less complicated moments.   

Yes, it was just like old times with her.  Like time hadn’t even passed.  They were so close once before.  And they could be again.  They were soul mates.  

Would she realize that before they’d tracked down the issue in his financials or would he have to make the hard sell later?  Either way, he couldn’t let her divorce him.  He could not lose Ava Collins to Chris Maxwell.  Or to anyone.

Nate

The Guarded Romantic

Guarded • Gentle • Loyal • Sincere

Nate has learned the hard way that love can be expensive. Burned once and slower to trust, he keeps his billionaire legacy quiet when he quite literally crashes into the woman who changes everything. Coffee stains and awkward apologies lead to something far more dangerous — hope. He doesn’t tell her who he is, afraid she’ll only see his money. What he doesn’t know is that she’s hiding a title of her own. Two guarded hearts. One undeniable connection. And a truth that could change everything.

— Featured Scene —

Nate’s teeth clenched as he read the text message from his father, a mix of resignation and irritation spiraling through him.  Their fragile relationship teetered precariously on the edge of a steep cliff after his past actions.  

He furrowed his brow as he considered answering it, not certain what he would say.  But ignoring it would be worse.  Ignoring it could cause ripples he didn’t want to deal with.  

His jaw worked overtime, pulsing as he read the message over and over again.  Today wasn’t the day he needed this message.  

He rubbed at his chin, ready to bolt from the coffee shop for the nearest bar.  He slid his eyes closed before he opened them again and read the message.  How are you doing today?  If you need to talk about Chloe, I’m here.

That name felt like a punch to the gut, reopening a wound he’d desperately tried to close.  Chloe.  He’d never wanted to see that name again.  Never wanted to hear it or think of it.  He’d thought he’d hit rock bottom when his parents had set up the intervention, but he now felt like he could fall even further than waking up drunk in an alley.  

He resisted the urge to type back that he was fine, which would likely trigger a call to assess how fine he really was, but he had no desire to answer truthfully.  He didn’t even know what the truth was.  He hated the woman.  But how was he doing?  Still torn up over what she had done and still reeling from the fallout of everything he’d done leading up to that to alienate his family.  A family that had come together when he’d truly needed them. 

He finally typed a response.  Getting through the day.

No sooner had he sent it than a reply came back, pressing for details.  How exactly?

He hated this.  He hated being treated like a child, but he hadn’t earned much better.  He typed a message as the line in the coffee shop moved up.  I’m not drinking.

“Yet,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned to glance at how many people were still in front of him for a simple cup of coffee.  

Five people waited to order.  His shoulders slumped as he shifted his weight, his agitation growing.  He needed a drink.  Just one to take the edge off.  

He shoved his phone into his pocket as it chimed with the latest message from his father and spun on his heel.  As he took a step, he smashed into someone.  Liquid spattered on the floor, splashing onto his shoes as a cry sounded.

His jaw unhinged as he lifted his eyes to the woman he’d nearly run over.  She stared down at the smashed cup in her hand, a look of disbelief etched into her delicate features.  She flicked a lock of dark hair away from the stain growing on her blouse.  

A surge of frustration gave way to curiosity.  Her dark hair contrasted sharply with her pale skin.  

“Oh,” Nathan said as he tugged his lips back in a wince.  “Oh my gosh, I am sorry.  Oh, I’m really sorry.”

She fluttered her eyelashes as she glanced up at him, flicking her pinky at the spot.  “It’s quite all right,” she said in a crisp British accent.

“Here, let me help,” he said as he grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the counter next to them.  

She did the same but he pressed his against her first, swiping down the front of her shirt with the napkins. 

“Oh, no, really, I’ve got it.”  She waved a hand at him.  

“No, no, I insist.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t see you there.  I just…I’m having a really bad day and–”

“No, really, I’ve got it,” she repeated.

He continued to dab at her blouse, soaking the thin brown napkins.  

“Stop, stop,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Please stop.  You’re making it worse, you see?”

“Oh,” he answered, his features crinkling as he noted the now larger stain on the shirt.  “I am, aren’t I?”

She let out a half-chuckle.  “Yes, I don’t understand how you’re managing it, but you are actively making it worse.”

“I have a talent for that,” he said, a light laugh in his voice.  “Actively making things worse, that is.”

She flicked her green eyes up to him, a slight smile on her doll-like lips. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes before.  They were…captivating. “Well, best you stop dabbing at my blouse then.”

“Ah, yes,” he said with a nod as he wadded the napkins into a ball and tossed them in the garbage bin.  “Well, let me pay for the cleaning at least.”

“No,” she said as she continued to wipe at the liquid.  “That’s not necessary.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s really not necessary,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Uh, please.  I have to do something. I feel awful.”  He held a finger in the air before he pulled his blazer off and slid it around her shoulders.  “Here, take my jacket.”

She glanced at it before she flicked those sparkling emerald eyes back to his face.  “It’s really quite all right.  I don’t–”

“Please.  You’re soaked and–”

“It’s quite warm outside, though.  And if I take your blazer, I’ll need to return it, and–”

“Well, uh, we could meet.  I could take you to dinner.  As an apology.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.  

She cocked her head as she knitted her dark eyebrows.  “You mean, allow you to take me to a place where you’d be around cutlery?  I’m terrified to think of what may happen.  You may filet me like a fish.”

The playful smile on her features brought a grin to his face.  Any thoughts of a drink were replaced by the enchanting, warm feeling he got from her.  But while his heart fluttered, his mind warned him.  Don’t be too trusting.  You’ve been burned.

But her playful banter was unexpectedly disarming.  

“Well, uh, perhaps…a hot dog in the park.  No silverware.”  He grinned at her.

“A hot dog?” she asked.  “You mean from one of those little carts with the fellows wearing the caps?”

He chuckled at her.  “Yes, yes, that’s right.”

Her smile grew slightly as she nodded.  “All right, then.  If no cutlery is involved, I suppose I shall be quite safe.  When?”

“Uh, how is this evening?  Say five?”  He recalled a peaceful spot where he’d often found solace in the last year. “The vendor near the fountain in Mariner’s Park. That’ll give you enough time to change and have no further need for my blazer.”  

She adjusted it around her shoulders as she nodded.  “All right.  Oh, uh, what is your typical condiment of choice?”

“Mustard.”  He furrowed his brow.  “Why?”

“I shall search for a yellow shirt in case you spatter it all over me.”

He bit his lower lip as he held back another smile.  “I see.  You got me on that one.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she said with a chuckle as she lifted a shoulder.  

“I think I deserved it,” he answered.  “Anyway, I will…I’ll see you later.  And again, sorry…it’s been one of those days.”  

“No problem.  See you later,” she answered with a smile.  

As she spun away, he reached for her, catching her elbow.  “Oh, wait.  What’s your name?”

She twisted to face him again, pausing for a moment before she said, “Ellie.”

“Ellie,” he repeated, the smile returning to his face.  A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.  “I’m Nathan.  Nate.”

She offered him a half-smile.  “I will see you later, Nathan.”

He stared after her as she walked away, pushing her arms though his jacket sleeves.  The grin refused to leave his face.  He wondered if she’d come later.  He hoped she would, despite his consternation.

His mind returned to the warning his thoughts had given him earlier.  You’ve been burned.  

Greg

The Steadfast Titan

Steady • Attentive • Protective • Devoted

Greg doesn’t need to raise his voice to command a room. His strength is quieter than that — steady, deliberate, impossible to ignore. A billionaire who built his empire with patience and precision, he moves through the world with calm authority. But when it comes to the woman he loves, there is nothing restrained about his devotion. Greg shows up. He protects. He listens. And when it matters most, he stands firm. The Steadfast Titan doesn’t waver — and he never walks away.

— Featured Scene —

I’d started this charity to help sick children, and now I was about to meet a forensic account because someone had stolen from it.  

At least, I had found help.  Or so I hoped.  

I closed the laptop’s lid and slid it from the desk, tucking it under my arm and leaving the office behind.  If I left now, I could make it to the hospital early and ensure the conference room was ready for our meeting.  

As I pulled on my jacket, my butler met me in the foyer.  “Leaving, sir?”

“Yes, Benedict.  I’d like to get there early.  Just a reminder that I will be dining out for lunch with Mrs. Hawthorne.”

Benedict arched an eyebrow, but said nothing–always the dutiful British butler.  

“Don’t give me that look, Benedict.  I am well aware that she has chosen Miles Hawthorne.”

“I said nothing, sir.  I am merely noting it in my mind so that I do not have lunch prepared.  Dinner?”

“I plan to be home.  I will send a message if that changes.”

Benedict nodded at me.  “Of course, sir.”

I heard the judgment in his tone, but I did not comment further.  He thought me a fool to continue my friendship with a woman who had so very clearly told me no.  However, I found it harmless.  Lila and I were friends.  

And I was short on those.  I didn’t much care for most of the people in my circle.  It was why I had latched on to Lila.  

I took the elevator down to the lobby, said goodbye to my doorman, and stepped into the chauffeured car waiting out front.  

We pulled away from the curb, and I drummed my fingers against my laptop and the folder sitting on top of it containing some of the initial reports I’d received on the situation.  

The buildings of Westcliffe passed by my window until the hospital came into view.  My driver left me at the main entrance, and I strode into the building, the scent of antiseptic and wilting flowers hitting my nostrils along with the burst of cool air-conditioned air.  

I took the elevator up to the third floor and snaked through the halls toward the conference room I’d booked, stopping to pour myself a cup of coffee from the complimentary beverage station in the administrative wing.  

I spotted the slightly open door as I rounded the corner.  At least I wouldn’t have to track anyone down to open it for me.  I hoped they’d set out the waters I’d requested.  

As I pushed the door open further, I spotted a woman already inside.  My heart skipped a beat.  Elise.  

I froze.  She wasn’t at all what I expected.  Her blonde hair had been tugged up into a messy bun in what looked like an impromptu fashion.  

But it wasn’t the hairstyle that stopped me in my tracks.  It was her behavior.  

With her sneakers kicked up onto the table, she lounged backward in the chair, rocking slightly as she stared blankly at her phone.  

I fluttered my eyes.  She’d seemed so professional and put together in her emails, but this person seemed flippant, uncaring, awful.  

I swallowed hard, wondering if this was the other shoe I’d expected to drop.  Perhaps now she’d shake me down for money.  

“Elise?” I asked as I set my laptop down on the table. 

She ignored me entirely.  

“Elise?” I repeated, taking a step closer.  

She still didn’t answer.  I leaned closer and waved a hand at her.  

She finally snapped her dark eyes up, pulling an ear bud from under her hair.  “Huh?”

I huffed out a quiet breath. “You must be Elise Sinclair.”

She slid her eyes sideways before she frowned and shook her head.  “Uh, nope, sorry.”

My lips parted as I stared at her. “You’re not Elise?”

“Nope, sorry, buddy.” The woman stuck the earbud back in her ear and returned her attention to her phone.  

My frustration built as I tapped her on the shoulder.  

She snapped her gaze up, looking annoyed.  “Dude, I’m not Elise, okay?”

“Yes, and I am grateful for that, however, you are in the conference room I booked.”

She rolled her eyes at me as she stuffed the ear bud back in place and reached down to grab her bag.  She slung it over her shoulder, snatched the open water bottle from the table and pushed out the door without even a word.

With a huff, I curled my fingers into fists before I tugged at my jacket and scanned the table. That person must have stolen the water I’d requested.  

I heaved a sigh, shaking my head as I grabbed my coffee and took a sip. I’d retrieve a bottle from the beverage station.  

I stepped through the door, a bit distracted, and crashed straight into someone else. 

“Oh, dear,” I murmured as I bounced back a step, the coffee still sloshing in my cup.  

The person I’d run into hopped back, too, glancing down as she flicked a few drips of my coffee from her blouse.

“Oh, no.  Oh, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t paying attention,” I said as I reached for my handkerchief and tried to dab away the dots of coffee.”

“It’s all right,” the woman answered, still not looking at me.  

I only saw the top of her head, auburn hair spilling down from it to her shoulders.  

“It’s not.  I’m very sorry.  Please, let me take care of the dry-cleaning bill, at least.”

“It’s really not necessary,” she said, finally raising her gaze to meet mine.

My lips parted as I finally got a look at her.  That auburn hair framed porcelain skin.  But it was her eyes that made my breath catch in my throat.  Those soft, gray eyes.  I’d never seen anything like them.  

She was beautiful.  Perhaps the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.  And I’d spilled my coffee all over her.  

“Really, it’s fine,” she repeated, a slight smile on her delicate lips.

“Uh, really, I am sorry, though,” I murmured.  “And I would very much like to pay for the cleaning.”

“It’s really not necessary, Greg.  There’s barely a spot.”

My brows knitted as she said my name.  Why did she know it?

Her sweet smile faded slightly, replaced by confusion. “You are Greg Ramsey, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, the word drawn out as I tried to figure this out. I would remember this woman had we met before.  

She pointed a finger at her stained blouse.  “I’m Elise.  Sinclair.  We’re meeting today.”

My eyes widened slightly, my jaw sliding open slightly.  This was Elise?  I swallowed hard as something shifted inside me, but I shoved it firmly away.  

I couldn’t do this again.  I was not lucky.  And I’d end up hurt all over again if I dared to hope.

Christopher

The Brooding Magnate

Commanding • Intense • Brooding • Unyielding

Christopher Vale doesn’t offer comfort lightly. He is a man built on discipline, restraint, and an intensity that keeps the world at a careful distance. But when he sees her unravel, something shifts. He doesn’t hesitate. He steps in, gathers her close, and handles the storm without spectacle or expectation. Commanding and brooding, he carries the weight of an empire with ease — and when he chooses to protect someone, he does so without wavering. The Brooding Magnate doesn’t bend. He endures. And he stands between her and anything that dares to hurt her.

— Featured Scene —

Classified.

Graham

The Polished Maverick

Confident • Guarded • Charismatic • Loyal

Graham knows how to wear a suit — and how to command a room. Charming, composed, and impossibly confident, he’s mastered the art of keeping the world at arm’s length after a first marriage that taught him hard lessons about trust. When a single photograph with a down-home cowgirl ignites a media frenzy, a fake marriage seems like the simplest way to control the narrative. But what begins as strategy slowly unravels his carefully guarded heart. The Polished Maverick doesn’t fall easily — but when he does, it’s with loyalty that runs deeper than anyone expects.

— Featured Scene —

“I did accidentally run into you this morning.  These are for you.”

She fluttered her eyelashes as she stared down at the dozen long-stemmed, red roses I thrust at her.  “Uh, well, that’s sweet, but you didn’t hurt me.  The boots have steel toes.”

“That’s cute,” I answered as I motioned at the inside of her room.  “May I?”

She stared at me, wide-eyed before she stumbled back a step. “Oh, you want to come in.  Uhh…”

Before she could turn me down, I stepped inside along with my two security guards and Virginia.  

“Sure, just…come on in,” she answered as she let the door snap shut.  

I twisted to face her as she set the flowers down on the table next to the uneaten turkey chili.  She tossed a lock of her flaxen hair over her shoulder before she sank her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans.  “Mind telling me why you just barged into my hotel room with a bouquet and that smooth smile?”

I arched my eyebrows.  She wasn’t going to be easy.  Why couldn’t I have stepped on one of those quiet, unassuming types who stared at me with doe eyes, her lower lip trembling?  

No, instead, I’d tromped on what sounded like a real southern peach with an attitude problem.  

“I would love to explain, yes.  Shall we sit down?”

“No,” she answered.  “I’d rather you just tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m here because of this.”  I snapped my fingers again, and Virginia handed Elsa the tablet.  

She hesitated before she took the device, her features crinkling as she stared at it, her lips tugging into an infuriatingly darling little pout.  “What is this?”

“That is a gossip column that tracks the city’s most influential people,” Virginia explained. “As you can see, the public is quite taken with the woman who made Graham Lockwood smile like that for the first time in…well, forever.”

I shifted my weight, still bothered by how real I looked in that image.  

“What?” Elsa glanced up at Virginia, then shifted her gaze to me.  “Why is this picture on here? Who took it?”

“Paparazzi.  They’re relentless,” I said. 

She handed the tablet back to Virginia, stuffing her hand in her pockets again. “All right.  Thank you for stopping by to show it to me.  I could have lived without knowing, though.”

I chuckled a little.  Maybe she wouldn’t be so bad.  “Actually, I’m here for another reason.”

Her eyes went wide as they slid sideways. “Okay.”

“You see, that image…well, that image makes me look human.”

The little crease between her eyebrows deepened.  “Are you not?” 

I chuckled a little, more amused by it than I wanted to admit.  “My ex-wife and half of my board would say no.  But that image…well, that image has people thinking I do have a heart.”

She offered me a slight smile, sweet and addicting.  I wondered what it looked like when she wasn’t guarded.  “Great for you.  I’m so happy for ya.”

“No, you don’t understand.  You see, I’m in a bit of bind.  My board isn’t very happy with my current image.  I’ve been through…a lot lately.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she said.

“But you…you apparently are the answer to all my problems.”

Her eyebrows raised as she stared at me, confusion etched in her features. “Me?” 

“Yes, you, Elsa.” I grinned at her, confident and careful.  “People saw this picture, and everything changed.  Everything.”

“I fail to see how a snapshot of us bumping into each other changes everything.”

“But it does,” I said.

Virginia stepped forward, preparing the folder with the contract I’d already had drawn up.  “Mr. Lockwood’s image is badly in need of repair.  But this photo…well, this photo has already started to do damage control.  Everyone is waiting, wondering who is this new woman in his life?  You are wholesome as a tall glass of ice cold milk.”

“Which is why,” I picked up, “I have a proposal for you.”

Virginia held the folder out, and Elsa took it, suspiciously glance at her, then me.  

She flicked it open, her features pinching with confusion and shock. Her lips parted as she snapped her gaze up to meet mine before she spun on a heel and stormed toward the door.

My heart skipped a beat.  Was she about to bolt?  

But she opened the door and peered into the hall.  

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

“Where are the cameras?” She shifted her focus to the security guards. “Are you filming this?”

“Uhh, no,” I said with a shake of my head, my eyes narrowing.  

“This is some sort of joke, right?”

“I assure you, it is not,” Virginia answered curtly as she adjusted her black-rimmed glasses.  

Elsa licked her lips as she opened the folder again. “But this says…”

Her voice trailed off, and I took a step forward.  “Yes.  It says that I need you to play the role of doting spouse for a year, and in return you will be handsomely compensated.”

She glanced up at me again, suspicion dancing in her eyes.  “Why?”

“I told you.  I have a little bit of an image problem.  You seem to be able to fix that.  So, I’d like to enter into an agreement that’s mutually beneficial.  I get my image fixed.  You get a couple million dollars.  It works out for everyone.” I shrugged and grinned at her like this was perfectly normal.  

She frowned again. “You want me to pretend to be your wife for a year.”

Her words came slow, her drawl even more exaggerated.  

I cleared my throat. “Yes, that is the deal.  You could…sound less incredulous when you say it.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Slick, but this isn’t exactly a normal thing.”

I pressed my lips together, glancing at the others in the room.  “Mind giving a minute alone?”

Virginia arched an eyebrow, but motioned for the security guards to precede her before she gave me one final glance, then let the door click softly closed.  I imagined her with her ear pressed against the door as she waited.  

I let the air settle between us before I took a step closer, not encroaching, but confident.  “So, it seems you’re a little…reluctant.”

“It’s an odd offer,” she answered as she stared at the paperwork again.

“Not really.  It’s just a business deal.”

“Do you often buy love?” she asked candidly.

I chuckled, a genuine laugh as I shook my head. “No.  No, I don’t, and that’s not what I’m doing.  I didn’t say love.  I said you act like you’re in love.  It’s not that hard, really.  Women do it all the time.”

Her eyebrow arched. “With you, I assume.”

“Well, my first wife certainly did.  And for far longer than a year,” I informed her with a wag of my finger and a chuckle.  

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, still looking far too unimpressed for my taste.  

I’d spend years in the boardroom, making deals, taking down opponents, I could read all the signs.  I was losing this one.  I had to get it back–quick.

“Is there something not to your taste in the deal?”

“Well, Slick, the entire deal is a little sketchy, don’t you think?  Why would you pay me to pretend to love you when you presumably could find another ex-wife to pretend.”

“Because I don’t want another ex-wife.  I don’t want another woman.  I want you.”  I stepped closer, my words low and intimate.  

Sam

The Resolute Heart

Confident • Tender • Protective • Unwavering

Sam loved once — deeply enough to understand both the joy and the cost of it. A widower raising a teenage daughter who quietly hopes he’ll find happiness again, he approaches love with steady confidence and guarded care. But when Ana enters his life, something in him awakens. He pursues her openly, boldly — only to discover that her world is far more complicated than he imagined. The revelation doesn’t scare him. It anchors him. The Resolute Heart doesn’t run from love twice. And when Sam chooses, he does so completely.

— Featured Scene —

I lunged forward and pulled her into my arms.  “Charlie.  Oh, Charlie. Baby, are you okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” she murmured as she nodded, her arms squeezing me a little. 

I pulled back, studying her face.  Her eyes were a little puffy, like she’d been crying, but she didn’t look hurt.  “You sure?” 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.  

A new voice entered the conversation.  “She has a few scrapes on her hands and knees.  I cleaned them up, but you may want to take another look.” 

I glanced over Charlie’s shoulder, finding a blonde in a track suit emerging from the bathroom.  

“Dad, this is Ana.  She’s the one who helped me.  Ana, this is my dad, Sam Winthrop.”

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing back at Charlie. “How’d you get all those scrapes?  Did you fall or…” 

My eyes strayed back to Ana, some of it out of curiosity, some of it because she was easy to look at.  I studied her soft features, her sparkling blue eyes.  

“Umm, I…kind of…just…yeah, I fell,” Charlie stammered.

I gave her back a gentle rub. There was more to the story, but I wasn’t going to push it out of her right now.  Maybe once we were home and everyone’s stress levels were lower.  

Ana shifted her gaze from Charlie to me for a second before she smiled.  It was magnetic.  “Well, you probably want to get her home as quick as you can, so…” 

She gently rubbed Charlie’s arm. “You take care, okay?  And if you need to talk, you have my number.” 

I straightened slightly.  Someone trying to befriend my daughter was always a frightening thing.  People saw us as a gravy train.  

But Ana didn’t strike me as someone who was out to fleece us.  She didn’t demand a call or say she’d reach out.  She just offered to support Charlie.

Charlie pulled away from me, hugging Ana. “I’m going to text you.  Thank you for your help.” 

“Hey, Charlie,” I said as she pulled back, “why don’t you get in the car?  I just want to thank Ana.” 

Charlie glanced up at me, her eyes a little wide.

“Go on.  I’ll be right there. I just want to say thanks.” 

“Okay,” Charlie said softly as she slipped past me.  

I watched her go before I turned back to Ana.  She wasn’t looking at Charlie, she was staring at me.  She offered a soft smile.  “She’s a great kid.  Just a little lonely.” 

“Uhh, I’m…sorry about this.” Something about this woman disarmed me more than I wanted to admit. “She’s…uh…what did she tell you?” 

Ana shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket, shrugging a little. “That her mom died a few years back, and she’s having a tough time with it.” 

“Yeah,” I murmured.  “Yeah, umm…”

“I get it,” Anna said as my voice trailed off.  “My mom died when I was six.  So…pretty sure my dad went through some of the same stuff when I was her age.” 

She smiled again—that nerve-reducing, magnetic grin again that just seemed to set me at ease.  

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I answered.  I was usually pretty good with people but something about her stripped away all my pretense.  “Sorry, that sounded—”

“It’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave.  “It was a long time ago now.  But Charlie, she’s still pretty raw.  She needs you.” 

I adjusted my tie for no reason other than to ground myself.  Charlie sounded more like she needed someone like Ana.  “Can I ask how she got the scraps?” 

“You’re not going to like it.” 

“Oh, wow,” I said with a laugh, “that’s more honest than most people are with me.  How bad is it?” 

She dipped her chin to her chest.  “Pretty bad.”

I braced myself as she continued. 

“A few guys were trying to mug her.”

“What?!” My eyes went wide as I shouted the word.  “Oh my word, did you call the police?” 

“No,” she answered.  “I ran them off pretty easily when they realized it wouldn’t be a simple score.  But…you should definitely keep a close eye on her.  She puts on a brave face, but it’s going to hit her eventually that she could have been really hurt.” 

The way she worried over Charlie, the way she saw right through everything hit me in my soul.  

I wasn’t used to this level of caring from strangers. They usually wanted something from me.  “Well, thank you for helping her.  I can’t say enough how grateful I am.”

I stood staring at her for a moment, lost in those blue pools that were her eyes before I shifted, suddenly remembering myself.  I reached into my pocket and withdrew my money clip. “Oh, uh, here, let me at least give you something for your trouble.” 

She stared down at the money, her smile fading a little. “I don’t want your money.” 

I tugged my chin back to my chest. Nobody said that to me.  Not in years.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to insult you.  I just—“

“Are grateful your daughter is okay, so you’re offering the thing that most people want from you.  Yeah, I get it.  I don’t want it though. I’m glad she’s okay.  I hope she stays that way.” 

“Yeah, I’m going to keep her under lock and key after this,” I said with a chuckle. 

She grinned again. “That sounds like a good idea with a rambunctious teen.” 

“Yeah.” I shoved my hands in my pockets with another laugh.  “I can’t wait until she’s driving.” 

She joined in the laughter. “Your troubles are just beginning, believe me.” 

My smile faded a little, but not because I wasn’t enjoying the moment anymore.  This was the most real conversation I’d had with anyone in years.  “Hey, uh, I know you said no to the money, and I get it, but…could I take you dinner?”

She flicked her eyebrows up, her head tilted slightly.  

“Not to buy your thanks.  I promise.  It’s just…well, it sounds like Charlie really enjoys talking to you, and I can see why. I’d just…like to thank you again, and get to know you a little better.” 

She studied me, and for a second, I wondered if she was going to turn me down.  I wasn’t used to that.  But it wasn’t just that.  

It was the first time I’d put my heart out there, and I worried it would be smashed to pieces.  

“All right,” she said after a beat.  “But nowhere fancy.  Maybe we could just meet in the park?” 

“Meet in the park,” I echoed. “Wow, you are determined to make sure I can’t use any of my fancy moves on you, huh?” 

She suppressed a giggle. “Oh, I am.  And I usually win.” 

“Oh, do you?” I answered, thoroughly amused by her, and a little unnerved.  “Okay, consider me warned.” 

She offered me a coy nod. 

I thumbed over my shoulder.  “I should go.  Get Charlie home.” 

“Yeah,” she answered, her eyes drifting to my lips for a brief instant.  

It stopped my heart for a second.  Something surged through me that I hadn’t felt in years.  And I knew this was something I couldn’t walk away from.  

But I worried it would destroy me entirely.  I barely knew her, but she already felt like the one person who could ruin me. 

Nico

The Loyal Rogue

Confident • Protective • Sincere • Loyal

Nico has always lived life on his own terms — confident, charming, and just arrogant enough to enjoy the attention. Marriage was something he assumed would happen eventually, when it suited him. But when his father’s will demands it now, Nico enters the arrangement expecting convenience. What he doesn’t expect is how fiercely protective he becomes — or how much he enjoys proving to the man who lost her exactly what that mistake cost. The Loyal Rogue doesn’t love halfway. Once he claims his place at her side, he stays — and he wins.

— Featured Scene —

I slumped back in my chair.  “Oh, please tell me I don’t have to marry Madison Prescott.  Or Ashord Langston.”

My mother twisted to eye me over her shoulder. “Heavens no.  We don’t need a prima donna who we cannot mold.  We need someone who will remain loyal to us.”

Okay, my mother was clearly way ahead of me, and I was loathe to admit that I couldn’t keep up.  Mom was usually playing 4D chess while I was trying to get kinged in checkers.  

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I decided if I just admitted that I had no idea what she was saying or if I nodded and played along like I knew exactly what she meant.

I went with the latter.  Now wasn’t the time for me to be stupid.  She might decide I wasn’t worth getting the inheritance and sabotage me.  

My head bobbed up and down a few times, slowly, dramatically, like the plan was unfolding in my mind. 

My mother clicked her tongue, eyes rolling.  “Oh, stop pretending you know what I’m saying, you don’t.”

I flung my arms out to the sides. “Okay, I have no idea, Mom.  None.  Don’t marry a society girl because we can’t control them.  Don’t marry a floozy because…wait, why again?”

“It will look bad to the board.  The last thing we need right now is your father’s board questioning how Gladys Golddigger will affect your judgement.” 

I scoffed.  “Mom…I don’t know anyone name Gladys.  And she sounds like a real drag, so…” I grinned.

She didn’t find it funny.  “This is not the time for jokes, Nico.”

“Okay, so, I still don’t get it.  No society girls.  No models—“

“Floozies.” 

“Whatever,” I shot back. “Who does that leave?” 

My mother arched an eyebrow.  I read it easily.  She already had a plan.  Why did I not think that?  She was always a thousand steps ahead of everyone.  I was surprised she didn’t marry me off before my dad died because she already knew he’d change his will.  

“You have a plan,” I said. 

“Of course, I have a plan.  Because unlike you, I don’t fritter my time away with frivolous interactions.  I strategize.” 

“I mean, to each their own,” I answered.  

“No, Nico.  You had better pull your head out of your you-know-where and start following my lead.  You need to start thinking of your future.” 

“I’m thinking of it.  Okay?” I shot back, my voice turning sharp.  “I’m…strategizing.  But clearly you have a woman in mind.  Or a type.” 

Please let her be hot, my mind added. 

“I do.  Someone specific.  Someone who will be indebted to us for this.  Someone who can carry you through this with my guidance.”

My eyebrows raised.  A woman taking guidance from my mother?  I wasn’t sure that was going to work.  Suddenly, I realized why she didn’t want any of the people we already knew.  

There was no way my mother could control the likes of Madison Prescott or Ashford Langston.  Her guidance would be roundly ignored while they did as they pleased to build their own empire.  And the leggy models?  They’d be a tabloid disaster.  

So, who was this miracle of a woman who would be acceptable to the board and also listen to my mother.  

“Well, I’m all ears.  Who’s the new wifey?”

My mother tapped on her phone before she twisted it toward me, a zoomed in picture on her screen.  “Meet Carina Reed.”

“Who?” I asked, squinting at the image of a woman—cute but not stunning, and definitely not the leggy models I was used to—in a horrible little sundress that screamed middle class.

“The internet’s newest sensation—or rather, victim.”

“Huh?”  I rubbed my forehead. “Mom, I’ll admit, I’ve had a few drinks tonight.  My brain cells aren’t firing on all cylinders.  Can you maybe…explain why you picked someone so mid?”

“Please stop saying things like mid.  And she is anything but average—especially once I finish crafting her in my image.” My mother studied the image on the phone, rubbing her chin like she was already crafting the perfect plan.

“That’s frightening,” I murmured.

She snapped her gaze to me.  “Don’t joke. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well…maybe don’t turn her into your mini-me.  I love you, Mom, but I don’t want to be married to you.” 

She offered me an unimpressed gaze that made me flinch.   “And I don’t see this being the perfect solution.  I mean, she’s…cute-ish.”

My mother’s lips parted.  “She is perfectly fine.”

“Well, I mean, she’s…okay.  Her face is…all right.  Her body is…hard say under that hideous, very obviously wash-and-wear dress, but I mean—“

“I’m very sorry she doesn’t have lip injections and fake breasts.  It’s a sacrifice you’ll have to make.” 

I heaved a sigh, shrugging. “I guess.”

“You are such a child.”

She was angry at me.  And maybe I was being too shallow.  But no one was going to accept this bumpkin in her flats and that very cheap dress.  I’d be better off marrying onto of the floozies.  They loved to create the illusion of wealth.  “I just still don’t get why Carolina—“

“Carina—“

“Whatever.  Why she is the perfect woman?  What is she trending for?  Bad taste in clothes?”

“No.  Her mother is accused of attempting to steal her fiance.” 

“What?” I genuinely amused laugh escaped me.  “What the hell is that?  I mean, seriously.  Who does that?  How do you lose to your mom.  I mean, dang.” 

I glanced up to find my mother’s stony face focused on me.  “Sorry.” 

“I wouldn’t laugh at the pain that brought your wife to you.” 

I cleared my throat, trying to be serious.  “Is her mom hot?” 

My mother threw her head back with a huff. “Nico, please be serious.  This woman has been wronged. And we can use that.  She is alone and desperate.  She will accept our offer because it gives her leverage.  Leverage she desperately wants to use against the two people who hurt her.” 

“Ohhhh,” I said with a raise of my chin.  “I get it.  She’s going to get revenge by…wait, how?” 

My mother’s eyes slide closed as she sighed. “She will have a loyal husband who dotes on her. She will become the queen of society under my guidance.  Her mother will be humiliated and so will her fiance as she rises from the ashes.” 

I parsed through it.  “Wait, I have to be the loyal husband, right?” 

“Yes, Nico,” she said through clenched teeth, “you will be her loyal husband.  You will dote on her.  You will act like she is the light of your life, like she hung the moon, like she—“

“I get it, I get it.  I joined my mother to look at the picture again.  Woo, you have faith in my acting skills.” 

“Really, Nico, it’s not a large ask for what she’s giving you which is—simply put—a fortune.” 

I stared at the woman in the photo.  Something about her smile…not forced, not pretentious—was almost…charming, sweet.  

I found one corner of my lips tugging back into a slight smile.  

As I studied her face, imagining waking up to it, the image disappeared.  “Now, you’d better get cleaned up.  I’d like you presentable.  You are about to meet your wife.” 

Donovan

The Granite Mogul

Commanding • Disciplined • Powerful • Unshakeable

Donovan Blackwell built Titan Industries from the ground up — and he carries the weight of every contract, every employee, and every decision like armor. Strategic and unflinching, he’s no stranger to scrutiny or opposition. But when a senate run exposes the vulnerabilities in his public image, the solution is as calculated as everything else in his life: marriage. What begins as political necessity forces Donovan to confront something far more destabilizing than public opinion. Because the Commanding Statesman can control markets and legislation — but love? That may be the one force he cannot command.

— Featured Scene —

My jaw tightened to the point of pain.  Not only did it sit wrong that I needed some sugar-sweet woman to soften my image, but it presented a massive problem.  Women who I could trust given my assets didn’t grow on trees. 

I’d see it time and time again with men in my position. Grant Harrington had been through four wives before he’d finally found one who seemed to stick—but give her time.  She could still leave him. 

Graham Blackwood had avoided women like the plague after his first marriage went belly up until his latest wife—a Texan who seemed too good to be true.  

I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop on Elsa, too.  

But I couldn’t pull any of this off.  I avoided the situation.  I was never seen with a leggy model or an aspiring actress or anyone else on my arm.  

Needing a wife fast when you avoided the entire scene wasn’t going to work out too well. 

“And how do you expect me to pull that off, Catherine?  I’m being serious.  I’m not seeing anyone.  I’m not—“

“Seeing anyone?” Catherine guffawed.  “Now, you’re the one pulling my leg.  Don, I’m not asking you to fall in love. I’m asking you to get married.”

My brows pinched together as I tried to make sense of that statement. 

“Treat it like a business deal.  You wanted that contract for the new fighter jets, and you did what it took to land it. There’s no difference here.  Find someone who is…stable, wholesome, no backstory.  Make a deal.  Bada-bing, bada-boom, you’ve got a wife.” 

“Are you suggesting that I enter into a contract marriage?” 

“Well, I sure ain’t tell you to go out and fall in love, kid.  That’s a complication we do not need.  We need this to look picture perfect.” 

I scoffed, rubbing my chin as I tried to decide if I was amused or offended.  “What if someone finds out?” 

“Seriously?  You run a defense company.  If you do this, don’t get caught.  This gets guarded like you guard the plans for the new F-16s.” 

I mulled it, turning the plan over in my mind, poking holes, finding weaknesses, spotting the strengths.  It would soften my image. It would give people the fodder they needed to build me into a different man.  It could win me the election. 

“All right.  Do you have someone in mind?” 

Catherine laughed—full-bellied and raw.  I imagined tears running down her cheeks as she slapped the glass desk in her minimalistic office. “No, Don.  I leave that entirely to you.”

“Don’t you think you should have a say.  How about if I put together a few dossiers, send them over to you, have you take a look.  You know, vet ‘em.” 

“Vetting your future bride is a job I will leave to you.  I don’t want to know about it beyond this conversation.  As far as I will know, if you turn up with a ring on your finger and a woman on your arm, you’re happily in love.” 

“Plausible deniability, huh?” 

“That’s the name of the game.  Now, go do your homework, and bring me back something I can work with.  And remember, you’re not running for sainthood, you’re running for Senate.  Marry someone who will capture hearts, but not steal the stage.” 

“Yeah,” I murmured as I tapped the speakerphone button and ended the call.  

I leaned back in the chair, the springs creaking under me.  How was I supposed to pull this off?  How in the world did one go about hiring a wife?

Arching an eyebrow, I considered a few starting points.  None of them would pass Catherine’s muster test.  

When one thought about hiring women, they usually weren’t the wholesome kind. 

I swung my legs off the desk and shifted forward, jiggling my mouse to wake my monitor.  A second later, I was starting at search results for “How to Hire a Wife.”  

After reading through some questionable sites, I shook my head, glad I’d used an incognito browser for the search. 

I sighed, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.  What was I going to do?

My fingers tapped the keyboard absentmindedly as I tried to figure out something else to try.

I grabbed the mouse, intending to close the page, but instead, my finger smacked the button and a new website loaded.  Wanted ads.  Personals.

I rolled my eyes until I spotted something on the page that caught my attention.

An ad.  Simple.  Honest.  

ISO a man looking to tie the knot temporarily on a boat.  Just a bucket list thing I want to knock off.  I’m not looking for a relationship or anything else weird.  I just want to get married, take a few pictures, then get a divorce.  

My eyebrows raised as I read it again.  Get married, take a few pictures, then get divorced?  It couldn’t be more perfect.

I narrowed my eyes.  Or could it?  What if this person was a completely nutcase?  

I needed more information.  I wasn’t about to respond to this without some confirmation of who this was.  

Before I could second guess it, my hand was on my phone, already dialing my head of security.  

“Mr. Donovan.  What can I do for you, sir?” 

“I need you to find out who is behind an anonymous ad on FindIt dot com.”

“Easy.  Send me the ad id, and I’ll have it for you within the hour.” 

I copied the ad id, popped it into an email, and sent it over to Bruce.  “Done.  And Bruce, not a word of this to anyone.  Understand?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

The line clicked, and I sat there staring at the ad until the phone rang again.  

“You need to give me harder jobs,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “Got your girl.”

A flicker of satisfaction filled me, but it was followed by guilt.  What game was I playing here?

Bruce continued on the other end of the line.  “Serena Monroe.  Thirty-eight.  Address, picture, and a few other personal details are in the email that should already be in your inbox.  Interesting bit.  She works for Titan.  I assume that’s what prompted your interest, but I didn’t see any hint of that in the ad.” 

My ears perked up as he mentioned her workplace.  

Shifting my phone to the other hand and leveraging it with my shoulder, I pulled up our employee directory and typed in her name.  

Her dossier appeared on my screen, an image of her shining from my monitor.  

Soft features frame with brunette hair in a simple cut, a sweet smile, and those eyes—gray and soulful.  

I scanned for her position.  Technical writer.  Not top tier but showed that she had a brain.  

She wasn’t looking to marry into money or even stay married.  

And the best part was I had access to her.  

An employee would make for a fantastic cover story.  No leaks to the media because we met privately in the office, pursued a relationship, and now we made it formal.  

It could work.

For the first time since I’d read the report about my marketability, I smiled.  

“You want me to send HR after her to shut the ad down?” 

“No,” I said.  “No, what I want you to do is to forget we ever had this conversation.  Delete the email. I’m probably going to need you to delete any trace of this ad eventually, too.  For now…sit tight.” 

“Understood.  I’ll wait for your instructions.” 

I eased the receiver onto the cradle, my eyes stuck on the smiling image of the unsuspecting woman on the screen.  My lips tugged back into a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Blackwell.”