Résultats de "Melanie Harlow" dans Toutes les catégories

In my defense, I thought the plane was going to crash. Otherwise, I never would have blurted out those embarrassing things to a perfect stranger. Did I mention he turned out to be a scorching hot superstar of professional hockey? But wait, there’s more. When the plane lands safely, I rush off, praying I’ll never have to face him again. My luck holds out for less than twenty-four hours, when I realize he’s a groomsman at the wedding I’m attending.

When Blair Beaufort literally crashes into Bellamy Creek wearing a ball gown and a tiara, I should have towed her car, said goodnight, and sent her packing. I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful. But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.

It was the perfect plan. I needed a wife - temporarily - in order to inherit the family business. And she needed a favor - the kind that takes nine months to deliver. We had it all worked out, from the no-touching policy on our wedding night (her rule) to the no-falling-in-love decree (mine). She’d marry me, I’d give her the means to have the baby she’d always wanted, and one year later we’d amicably part ways with no hassle, no demands, and certainly no regrets. After all, Bianca DeRossi and I are experts at infuriating one another - we’ve been doing it since we were kids.

My new neighbor is a firefighter - and a scorching-hot single dad - but I swear I didn’t set off that smoke alarm on purpose. (And I was beyond mortified when he rushed in and saw me naked.) Nothing happened, of course - because I, Winnie MacAllister, romance junkie and owner of a constantly broken heart, have sworn off men for one solid year. Even protective men with chiseled jaws, bulging biceps, and deep brown eyes that make my breath come faster.

Yes, I’m a single dad who needs a nanny for the summer. But hiring the stranded runaway bride who shows up on my doorstep in a wedding gown with no references, no skills, and no experience? No one is that desperate.

In hindsight, I should not have had that fifth mimosa at Breakfast with Santa. Or the sixth, seventh, and eighth. Even if the mic-drop moment that resulted was worth the looks on my former friends’ faces. For the sake of my children and my pride, I pack up and head for my childhood home and the small town where I grew up. Cloverleigh Farms would be the perfect place for a fresh start. Falling for Henry DeSantis wasn’t part of the plan.

He’s my brother’s best friend, the hot single dad next door. And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret. It’s my own damn fault. I’m 30 years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me. I wasn’t supposed to hit send. And he wasn’t supposed to see it.

Only in the movies does the Hollywood heartthrob fall for the small town diner waitress. So when Dashiel Buckley returns to Cherry Tree Harbor for a wedding, I’m determined not to let my massive crush on my best friend’s older brother hijack my good sense.

I didn’t mean to say I was engaged to a hot billionaire–it just slipped out. In my defense, I’d had a really bad haircut, a really strong drink, and I was trying to save face in front of the Mean Girl at my high school reunion. Lucky for me, I happen to know a hot billionaire. Hutton French and I have been friends forever, and even though big social gatherings are not his thing, I called him from the coat closet and begged him for a favor–show up and play my fake fiancé for the night. Except that word of our engagement spreads like wildfire.

Getting hitched is the only way I can inherit Snowberry Lodge, and I’ll do anything to spare my childhood home from the wrecking ball–even wear Devlin Buckley’s ring on my finger. Not that I’ll enjoy it. Sure, he’s charming and handsome, and that no-last-names one night stand we shared ended with a fantastically big bang (I saw stars I hadn’t seen in six months, if you catch my drift). But I’ll never trust him–he was working for the company trying to bulldoze my life. Right up until the day he knocked on my door with an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Just friends. That’s all Beckett Weaver and I have ever been. Sure, he’s a hot cowboy who left Wall Street behind to take over his family’s ranch. Yes, I’ve had a secret crush on him since we were 17. And who wouldn’t appreciate those strong hands, that massive chest, and the way he fills out a pair of Levis? He makes a girl sweat just looking at him...and I look. A lot. But I’m a single mom trying to move on with my life, and he’s running that ranch single-handedly while taking care of his elderly father.

Xander Buckley might be hotter than a stolen blow torch, and I get that he’s a former Navy SEAL and all, but the man gives new meaning to the words overbearing, overprotective, bossy alpha male. I can’t even post a photo on social media without him warning me it’s not safe or take a morning jog without him following behind. But he’s made it clear that what he says goes, and if I don’t like it, I can kiss my vacation goodbye. Instead, I end up kissing him.

I almost didn't believe it was him. In high school, Sebastian Pryce had been an aloof outsider who kept to himself. But now, 10 years later, he's back and unusually attractive. With muscles in all the right places and hands that know exactly what they're doing, Sebastian is everything I didn't know I needed. And while he isn't exactly friendly, he has a magnetism that draws me in.

You might think I had it all - a career I loved, a supportive family, the Nixon metabolism but not the Nixon ears, and a salary that supported my lavish taste in designer shoes, fine wine, and lacy lingerie - but I had no one to share it with. Until the day I ran into him - my one-night stand from college with the crooked smile, let's-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth. Cute and cocky then, today Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy.

When a psychic tells Natalie Nixon her life is about to be upended by a mysterious stranger, she laughs it off. After all, she has everything she's ever wanted - a successful bakery, the perfect boyfriend, and the keys to her dream house. Who could possibly make her want to throw all that away?

I didn’t realize who the gruff, gorgeous older man was the night he rescued me from a creep in a Manhattan hotel. All I knew was that a hot, bearded stranger with a protective streak showed up right when I needed a reminder that real gentlemen still exist.

I didn’t mean to see him naked - it was an accident. It had to be, right? Because Noah McCormick and I have never been anything more than friends. Until I walked in on him getting out of the shower and saw his hard, muscular body totally bare and dripping wet. At that moment I never wanted to mess with anything so badly in my entire life. He’s made it clear he’s not interested in romance. Which is fine with me because I’ve got a plane ticket back to my real life at the end of the week. It’s all in fun...or is it?

Stuck With You is a collection of four forced proximity romances with heart, humor, and heat from four bestselling romance authors.

I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love - I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar. Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s 27, the boss’ daughter, and my new part-time nanny - which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her. What kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo. But, thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days, and with one small bed. Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin - but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck, and trouble. I should have known what the disastrous end result would be.