Mostrando resultados por autor "Nicole Snow" en Todas las categorías

My biological clock just exploded. Eighteen months. That's how long I have to make a baby happen before it becomes one more broken dream. Fate has a sick sense of humor, though. Its name is Hayden Shaw. Yes, the Hayden Shaw. Billionaire developer, scandalously gorgeous, his hard-headed ego only eclipsed by his enormous...reputation. He needs a bride to fool the world. I need a baby. It's simple business. Strictly professional.

He knew I was trouble the instant I showed up with a stolen Bengal tiger. But Grady McKnight didn't flinch like a sane person - he took us in. Bruce the tiger found shelter. I met a hero grump. And Grady got a hot mess. Namely, me. Born-to-sizzle single dads and rogue zoologists don't play nice. So freaking what if I said I'm his nanny? We needed a story when his two sweet daughters barged in. Hiding a contraband tiger isn't easy. Neither is pretending he isn't sending my pulse to pitter-patter heaven.

Never, ever fall for your brother's hot older friend. I flunked the test the instant I laid eyes on Landon Strauss. Tall. Ripped. Commanding. Irresistibly alpha. He gave a damn like no one else did. His soul-searing eyes saw me, not just a nerd girl next door. I had my idol, my destiny, and names for our future kids picked.

He never bothered with hello. The shrieking hot stranger had me dizzy the instant he said we're engaged. Then he chased off the bully on our heels and dragged me back to his place for the night. Pure insanity, right? Wrong. You don't let pride do the talking when you're homeless, on the run, and hauling around your sick father in a truck so old it must've been on Noah's Ark. You definitely don't complain when Ridge Barnet takes charge. (In)famous heartthrob. Stinking rich. Fed up owner of one angry rooster. Eyes set to permanent storm.

The dirty little secret Dad left in the basement was supposed to be our salvation. Guess nobody told him you don't take cash from killers without savage consequences. Now the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club owns my sister and me. We're only alive because the rugged hulk with the piercing eyes who won't stop ordering me around says so. He saved us, but he's also an enigma I don't understand.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

It was one little dare with razor-sharp teeth—work for him. Yes, he's a fire-breathing grump and gazillionaire bachelor. Yes, I just gave him an ego check he'll never forget. Yes, he's still offering me the job dreams are made of. But Cole Lancaster is the stuff of bossy nightmares. Too handsome for real life. Big Coffee kingpin. Guarded papa bear. His precious daughter is the only reason he ever stops grumping for five seconds. I'm sure I can deal with his scowls and cutting glances for one huge payday. Only, sometimes your best assumptions are dead wrong.

A force of nature blew in. His name is Chris Triton. Tattooed god. Moody ex SEAL. Zero filter. Born to drive me bonkers. We barely spoke for 10 minutes before he kissed my soul out. Too fast. Too intense. Too flipping good. Then I found out we'd be sharing the same roof the very next day. Dad marrying his mom squashed our little chemistry experiment instantly. You know, the normal reaction. But Chris doesn't do normal. Or predictable. Or sane.

I guessed wrong. A little reckless fun with a stranger never hurts. A drunken one-night stand doesn't leave you pregnant. A savage twist of fate won't make your baby daddy your new boss. Bad luck can't last forever—unless you're me. Should we count the ways I'm cooked with Patton Rory? He rocks the grumpy gene, dialed up to 11. He's so handsome the mirror winks back and his bank account has its own zip code. He's also totally oblivious—thank God. I'm not sure what he'll be if he figures out the little boy who trashed his fancy building and ruined his favorite tie is his son.

Just friends? Is a peach pie to the face "just" a little mishap? I know what I felt the day Quinn Faulkner saved me from death by dessert. My best friend was always The One. The Impossible. Older. Flawless. Brutally gorgeous. A small-town prince of summer crushes. Leagues above a tag-along dance nerd like me. Years later, my uncle needs a goat wrangler. I just need an escape. What better way to flee a cheating ex and dumpster fire career? What better way to collide with the boy who got away? And now he's an atrociously hot, mysterious, overprotective beast.

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.

I've got small-town problems aplenty and zero time for Paxton “Alaska” Charter. Crushing on smoke-show men with caveman vibes can't end well. Sure, he saved my little coffee shop from total ruin once. Yes, my ovaries melt watching single dad of the century with his little boy. Of course, I'd sleep like a baby if I let him work his former SEAL hero magic on my mess. That's not why I'm freaking out. Nobody told me how devastatingly kind Alaska can be. Or the fact that his stubborn heart's even more guarded than mine.

There's a reason he's called Mr. Silver Tongue. Blake Silverton could sweet talk an angel into sin. Fierce small-town fire chief. Rough velvet voice. Drop dead gorgeous. Don't even get me started on the tortured single dad thing. Wintering in Heart's Edge isn't a choice when my van goes kaboom! Neither is gawking at the human bulldozer who keeps charging to my rescue. If only we could stop butting heads. But I'm a healer. What's wrong with offering a grumpasaurus a massage? I'm hardly obsessed.

My “interview” with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then - for some unholy reason - Magnus Heron offered me a job.

Cinderella had it easy. I'm lying to millions of people, and it's all Silas's fault. Yes, that Silas. Billionaire, prince, scandals galore, downright royal bastard - everything that screams run. If only it weren't for his rock-hard edges and wild tattoos, tempting anything female on all seven continents. But I don't care about his looks. Really. Our deal is simple. He needs a pretty little lie, a wife to cover up his dirty deeds. I need a fortune to buy the treatment that just might save my father's life.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?

I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Once, Lucus Shaw was my everything. First kiss. First surrender. First man to promise me a ring, children, a life together. I remember his rogue smirk, his soul stinging kiss, the blistering words that always made him a little dangerous. I gave him my body for one insatiable night. He gave me secrets, heartbreak, and hatred. Friends to lovers to mortal enemies. Our tragic destiny. But I survived. Adapted. Moved on. Fate doesn't care. Luke's back, and I have to pretend we still have a Cinderella romance to save my career.