I wasn't in the market for a man. I definitely wasn't looking for a man like Clay Nichols, with a dirty mind and a mouth to match. But then he walked into my life one night, and he was everything I wanted. He's also exactly what I can't have. Because there's a price tag on my head. I'm a wanted woman, and I owe debts that were never mine. The dangerous men I owe have threatened to hurt anyone in my life if I don't pay up. So I work off my debts by playing cards in an underground poker ring. One so risky I shouldn't get involved with a soul.

Greg is straight but makes easy money offering his services to gay men online. He's inexpensive but has a few ground rules: never reveal his real name, never invite a client home, and never, ever, ever agree to more than three appointments with anyone. Ever.

Meeting NYPD officers Dane and Graham Porter in Vegas gives her an opportunity to be the bad girl she thinks she needs to be. After a night of passion, she finds herself embarrassed of her wanton behavior, but takes solace in the fact she can put the night behind her once she returns home. Back in New York, just when she thinks she can forget what happened in Vegas, destiny shows it has other plans. When there's a break-in at her boutique, it's the sexy-as-sin Porter men who are sent to her rescue intent on stirring up the feelings of abandon she's trying to forget.

Easton Harrison always gets what he wants. All this rock star has to do is crook his finger and women come running. Unfortunately, hookups don’t inspire the songs for which he’s known, and Easton hasn't been able to write a word since his last hit. After he lands an exclusive gig in Vegas at the Millennium Hotel, the pressure’s on to write a new album. But Ireland, the challenging and sexy-as-hell cocktail waitress who works downstairs at the hotel’s swanky bar, is exactly what he needs. She's his muse whether she likes it or not. Too bad she doesn't date musicians.

Go to Paris, you'll find love! I’m Jillian Moore. My entire life, I wanted to follow in my parents’ footsteps and find true, long-lasting love, but unfortunately, it hasn’t happened in the five years I’ve lived here. You’d think in a city with two million people, I’d have crossed paths with the perfect man. Huh! Who am I kidding? However, things changed when I least expected it. I was literally knocked on my ass, but it wasn’t by the sexy man with the gorgeous caramel eyes. No, I’ve been knocked over by a pint-sized, strawberry blonde.