Las Vegas. October 1985. This is the story of how a King claimed his Queen. When I was a recent college grad, I had a dying hotel dropped in my lap. Between rolling up my sleeves and saving the family business, falling in love was the last thing on my mind. Then she walked in. Fiona Garland. Nevada’s sweetheart. The daughter of Senator Richard Garland, my father’s life-long rival. To say she was untouchable would be an understatement. Fiona, apparently, didn’t get that memo. Their feud is their feud, she said. I don’t see why we can’t be friends. But friends don’t look at each ...

Now a USA Today Bestseller! TOP 10 AMAZON BESTSELLER! #1 in Romantic Comedy #1 in Billionaire Romance I’ve been a lot of things. A brother. An athlete. A s-x god. A fake boyfriend? That’s a new one. I’ve never seen her before in my life. There I was, minding my own business at the hotel bar, when she walked up and asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend. She’d introduce me to her overbearing parents. I’d fawn over her for a few minutes, plant a goodbye kiss on her cheek, and walk away with an extra twenty dollars in my pocket. Seemed simple enough. But she had no idea the random ...

I knocked up my one-night stand. Well, it started as a one-night stand. Veronica left the next morning with a promise: she'd knock on my hotel room door the next time she passed through Las Vegas. Color me shocked when she actually followed through. The year after that, too. And the year after that. Is a once-a-year fling a thing? Because we perfected it. Until last night—when she showed up with a baby. Our baby. I didn’t even know Veronica’s last name, and now we have a daughter together. One look into those big brown eyes and I was done for. Forget casual. I want the whole damn ...

I’ve finally found my muse. Turns out she’s been behind the front desk at my family’s luxury hotel this whole time—smiling shyly, trying to hide that she’s been a fan of my band for years. Marla’s sweet. A stunning redhead with curves made to be worshiped—and I plan to do exactly that, on my knees. One look from her shattered months of songwriter’s block and lit a fire in me I haven’t felt in years. Now I’m sneaking downstairs just to see her. Just to hear her laugh. Just to imagine what she sounds like when she’s gasping my name. But the girl I can’t stop writing ...

I was a workaholic executive—until I almost died. It took a near-death experience to get my priorities straight, And I knew big changes had to be made. Priority #1 was spending more time with my kids and mother, So I quit my job and bought a beach house on Cape Cod. With the sun on my face and my toes in the sand, I met one of the beach rangers, Who turned out to be the hot single dad next door. Dylan helped me move some furniture, And I offered him dinner to thank him for his trouble— Not knowing it would end with dessert.