Rule Number 1: Do Not Sleep with Clients. I was the best agent in the industry. More ruthless and cutthroat than any arrogant bastard you'd ever met. The top actors in Hollywood came to me to get signed. When I saw James Ryne, America's Sweetheart, standing across the bar, I wanted her body like I'd never wanted anything before. I broke rule number one. But, after all, I was a man. No one had ever mistaken me for a saint.

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.

What would you give up for everything? Tristan Stone was powerful, commanding, and sex incarnate. And he wore it all so well. From the moment his mesmerizing gaze met mine, I had no choice but surrender to everything he was. His power. His decadence. His passion. He was all I never knew I needed. He wanted to possess me, and I wanted to be his everything. All I had to do was accept what he offered. But everything has a price.

Years ago, Dieter Krumpf's grandmother died and left him everything, including a photo album containing pictures of the art collection she left behind when her family fled the Nazis. Now, Dieter is calling on the services of a lawyer, Gerald Young, to determine whether his family's legacy might be returned to him. Gerald doesn't hold out much hope that the paintings will be returned, but Dieter's earnestness speaks to him and he agrees to help.

They throw around words and phrases: "Could be the greatest ever..." "Revolutionary sound..." I don't give a sh*t about anything but my music. It's my art. My escape. Until I run into a fiery redhead coming out of the bathroom of my favorite dive bar. Literally run into her. Both of us pressed against the wall. Her panting against my neck. Bristol's different - quick-witted and snarky, not the usual groupie. She doesn't care that every record label in the country wants to sign my band. She didn't even know who we were until tonight. But, she wants me. They all do.