Manhattan Billionaires

Billionaire. CEO. Single dad. And, apparently, my date to Manhattan's most exclusive ball. I thought my invitation was a birthday present from my best friend. The dress, the limousine, the red carpet... I thought they were meant for me. That was mistake number one. Then my date arrives, all gleaming cufflinks and tousled hair, steely blue eyes, and a body honed to masculine precision. Arrogant. Charming. Panty-melting. And melt, they do. Hanky-panky with a rich hottie in the back room of the event I'm crashing? Don't mind if I do. Listen, don't judge me. It's my birthday, remember? Nothing that happens tonight counts in real life. Ha. Right. That's mistake number two. Because the next morning, I start my new job as the nanny for a high-profile client. And my new boss, the owner of this swanky Manhattan penthouse, and the father of these two adorable hellions? Yup. Mr. Hanky-Panky. But the biggest mistake of all? Staying with him. Working for him. Letting my guard down, falling for him... And crashing. Splat. Oh-then I find out I'm pregnant. Contains mature themes.

Billionaire. CEO. Single dad. And for the next seven days, this arrogant hunk is going to be my boss. Easy, right? All I have to do is be a good nanny to Leif Sorensen's adorable, hell-raising, ballet-loving daughter. Keep my head down, my hands to myself, and forget about this silly crush I've been nursing for the past six years. So, he's big, and blond, and he stars in all my not-so-innocent "Hot Viking Ravages Innocent Maiden" fantasies? Who cares? Certainly not me. Nope. My week-long contract is my ticket out of trouble, and I'm not going to mess it up. This payday is about to solve a lot of my problems. Then I'll move on. Except... Leif has other ideas. Like, for example, when he tugs me into a spare room and demonstrates how similar his fantasies are to mine. It's purely intellectual, of course. We're just comparing notes. But when my contract is over, I realize that I might have gotten myself into trouble instead of out of it. See, I've gone and fallen head over heels for my billionaire boss. And I do it before I realize what he's hiding from me... Oh-then I find out I'm pregnant. Contains mature themes.

Being a dog walker isn't as glamorous as you might imagine. Unless, of course, you're walking a tech billionaire's German shepherd mix. And when your grumpy, gorgeous, billionaire boss asks you to spend the evenings at his place to babysit his teenage niece, who are you to refuse? You think, what could possibly go wrong? I'll tell you what can go wrong: Your business implodes, your heart shatters, and you find out you're carrying his baby. I'm speaking from experience here. Don't do it. Be smarter than I was, and run. Contains mature themes.

There are many ways to reunite with a former flame. Walking into his office as his newest employee, fainting at his feet, and then having him discover you've been hiding his child for seven years is probably not recommended by relationship experts. Yet here we are. Seven years ago, I met Cole at my cousin's wedding. I was a freshly dumped, slightly buzzed bridesmaid seeking refuge in the hotel bar. He was brooding, mysterious, and saved me from a would-be thief who was clearly making poor life choices. (Kind of like me, as it turned out.) Now he's my bossthe demanding, terrifying Cole Christianson who doesn't know the meaning of work-life balance and definitely doesn't know that we made a baby together all those years ago. I'd planned to be professional, collected, and absolutely not attracted to him anymore. Instead, I've cried in the bathroom, been cradled in his arms (again), and discovered he's engaged to someone else. The executives' retreat is next week, and at this rate, I'll be unemployed, exposed, and possibly re-seduced by the time it's over. Some women never learn. Hi, I'm some women.

Vaughn is the rugged, single dad CEO who's ready to get down and dirty to get what he wants. And what he wants…is her. I used to live a life of leisure, with caviar, champagne, and a closet full of designer clothes. Now I'm working two minimum-wage jobs, wondering if I'll make rent next month. And it's my own fault. The last thing I need? Some self-important patron at the restaurant where I work to look me up and down with those ice-blue eyes, lift an arrogant eyebrow, and tell me to run along and fetch him his sandwich. Especially not when he's wearing a terrible cheap suit and obviously got rejected by the investor he was courting. He's oh-so-rough around the edges, impossibly handsome, and he has no idea what kind of world he's trying to break into. I do. That world used to be my own-before I got thrown out of it. So when he hires me to coach him in the ways of the rich and privileged, I know I'm stepping onto a dangerous path. It's the love affair I never wanted. The kind of man I never deserved. And the surprise pregnancy I never expected. Now I have to know… Will Vaughn choose me and our unborn baby? Or will he turn his back on us for the chance to finally step into the glitzy, glamorous world of Manhattan's elite?

Callum Frost is a billionaire CEO with a Manhattan penthouse, a venture capital empire, and a staff turnover rate that should come with a warning label. He's demanding, exacting, and so controlled that even his hair looks like it's been given instructions. I walked into his office, fixed a travel crisis his entire team couldn't solve, and walked out. He's been chasing me ever since. Late-night texts. Doubled fees I set specifically to scare him off. His number blocked and his messages still somehow landing in my inbox. When he asked me to be his executive assistant, I told him it would take a traumatic brain injury. But Callum Frost doesn't hear no. And when he showed up uninvited to my parents' anniversary party in North Carolina-played the devoted boyfriend, held my hand, kissed me like the whole room wasn't watching-I stopped saying it. I agreed to six months. A contract. The office next to his. Professional boundaries that lasted about as long as you'd expect when the man on the other side of the wall is nothing like the cold, controlling CEO I thought I knew. Now I'm fourteen weeks pregnant, and the six-month expiration date on this arrangement just became irrelevant.