The Filthy Rich Series
Filthy Rich (Book 1)
A billionaire. His assistant. And a game that could cost both their hearts
Aidan Winters. Gorgeous, brilliant, ruthless, and filthy rich. He’s known as the Man in Black, because New York’s most sought-after bachelor is icy perfection in an all-black suit.
As his executive assistant, I know his suit size, the security code to his penthouse, and the number to his private line. The only thing I don’t know is what would make him fall to his knees for a woman.
And then, one night, I discover Aidan’s sexy secret. And he discovers mine.
Now we play a very dirty game. By day, we’re all business. But by night… he’s not Aidan and I’m not me.
No emotions. No lies. Except for one.
If you think this is a story about a girl who hates her boss, think again.
Sexy As Sin (Book 2)
Second chances burn hotter
The assignment should be a fashion stylist’s dream. Dane Scotland—brilliant programmer, millionaire, partner in my brother’s company—is going to a big-money meeting, and he needs to look the part.
The problem? Dane doesn’t want a makeover. He’s grumpy and reclusive, and his wardrobe consists of two pairs of old jeans. He doesn’t want me anywhere near him.
Did I mention that he’s my brother’s best friend? And that no one knows exactly what Dane and I got up to ten years ago?
The nerd I knew is gone—Dane ditched his glasses and bulked up. Now he’s six-foot-plus of hot genius, but I can be professional. I can definitely keep my hands off him. Again.
But when he looks at me like he used to, like no one else ever has, the only thing I want is to lose control.
Dane and I gave each other our first taste of heartbreak. Are we destined for another round?
Dirty Talk (Book 3)
They told me Noah Pearson was gorgeous. Sinful. A successful venture capitalist. A Hollywood playboy. The kind of man I can usually spend the night with, then walk away from, no strings attached.
No one told me I’d become addicted.
Noah is all wrong for me. He’s charming and scandalous. He tears down all the careful walls I live behind. But when he talks dirty to me in that voice as smooth as whiskey, it isn’t long before I’m throwing out my rule book and agreeing to a sexy, no-emotions-allowed fling.
It shouldn’t mean anything to either of us. We should be able to walk away.
Why, then, do I feel like our white-hot affair is the only thing worth fighting for?