On a Wednesday afternoon, I ask Trevor Bentley to marry me. He might be the most arrogant, obnoxious man I know, but I need him to be my husband for a year. There are reasons. He's not going to be a real husband. Just part-time...I'm not going to give him my heart. I know what I'm doing, and I'm too smart to fall for my husband. I hope.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

For years, Deanna's eccentric grandmother has been trying to marry her off to a rich man, and she's finally managed to do it. Deanna has spent her life trying to take care of those she loves, and a six-month marriage should be a simple enough way to keep their historic Savannah house from falling down around their heads. Sexy, obnoxious Mitchell Graves needs a wife to finalize a business deal, and he snaps up Deanna as the most expedient option. Because she's quiet, he thinks she'll be easy enough.

We meet every other Wednesday night in a downtown hotel. No dates. No commitments. No hearts or flowers. Just his body and mine. Maybe I’m his second best. He’s definitely mine. But second best has never felt so good.

Three years into a marriage of convenience, Molly's high-powered CEO husband wants to add a new term to their marriage agreement. Sex - without any messy emotional entanglements. But weekly sex with Luke, despite their carefully negotiated terms, is likely to get messy eventually.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

Zoe and Luke are trying to play newlywed happy, but they already look ready for a divorce. It’s hate at first sight, but as the night progresses through wild first dances, awkward kisses on full display, and a humiliating experience with the president, the pretend feelings start to get dangerously close to real.

Three years into a five-year marriage of convenience, Jenn finds herself wanting something she never thought she'd want from her laid-back, ex-military husband. Sex - as a much-needed release of tension from her high-stress job. But weekly sex with Nick, despite their careful parameters, is likely to get messy eventually.

I’ve sworn off men to focus on my dream job that starts on Monday. But my best friend talks me into a final night of fun—a blind date. I only agree because the guy is going to work as a doctor in Africa. It’s the best date of my life. Dr. Africa makes me laugh and swoon, and I want to give him a thorough physical examination. He turns into Dr. One Night Stand, and I’m not sad about it. Monday morning, I’m enthusiastic and excited, until I bump into...you guessed it.

Gabriel Thompson and I are like oil and water. Our New York families control two of the nation’s largest companies and the business rivalry is decades old. We’ve carried the torch ourselves since childhood. But then we bump into each other after a conference in Vegas. Drinks are involved, and he utters the three little words I can’t resist. I dare you. The next morning we wake up hungover, late, and worst of all, married.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.