I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

I first met Tristan Miles at a meeting where he was trying to take over my late husband’s company. He was powerful, arrogant, and infuriatingly gorgeous, and I hated him with every cell in my body. In the shock of the century, he called me three days later and asked me on a date. I would rather die than date a man like him - though I do have to admit it was good for the ego. Turning him down was the highlight of my year.

I’m the type of girl who’s given up on fairy tales. So when Beck – the hot new busboy at work - starts flirting with me, I know better than to get my hopes up. Happily ever afters aren’t for the average. I learned that the hard way. But how can I be expected to resist a man who can quote Austen, loves making me laugh, and seems to be everything hot and good in this world? Only there’s so much more to him than that. Billionaire playboy? Check. Troubled soul? Check.

When a vicious attack leaves 25-year-old Clementine Johns with no memory, she’s forced to start over. Now she has figure out who she was and why she made the choices she did - which includes leaving the supposed love of her life, tattoo artist Ed Larsen, only a month before. Ed can hardly believe it when his ex shows up at his tattoo parlor with no memory of their past, asking about the breakup that nearly destroyed him. The last thing he needs is more heartache, but he can’t seem to let her go again. Should they walk away for good, or does their love deserve a repeat performance?

There’s a fine line between lust and hate. I don’t care that Drew Merritt spent the last year transforming himself from grungy slob to sexy playboy. With messy, dirty blond hair and gorgeous eyes, his looks aren’t the problem. His mouth is. And the stupid things that come out of it. But after an emergency strands us together, and he does his damnedest to take care of me.... Let’s just say there’s one thing we don’t clash on. And it doesn’t involve talking.