Julia Moore has no interest in romance -- she's busy raising her son, starting a new career, and mending a broken heart.She certainly never expected a marriage proposal from her boss, gorgeous "playboy politician" Adam Carmichael. Too bad it's only a marriage of convenience, meant to help him win the governor's race.
Adam's touch sets Julia's heart racing. Every public kiss is both a tease and a torment. For his part, Adam finds that he can't keep his hands off his lovely new bride. Neither can deny the physical attraction,especially after they both succumb to a steamy night together. But Adam still isn't convinced that their marriage can ever be more than a publicity stunt.
When Julia's young son is abducted, the truth will have to come out. But will all of the secrets and lies break Julia's heart -- again?
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK
"It won't work," Julia said, for the third time. She folded her arms over her chest. "Everyone will know we've just met."
Adam gave her the slightly condescending smile that made her feel like a 6-year-old. "You won't have to lie, Julia. We'll say we're keeping the details of our courtship private. Phil will get someone to spread a rumor that we've been seeing each other secretly for months. He could even invent a romantic setting for the proposal." Adam glanced around at the office. "Something more appealing than this, I hope. Wine, roses, candlelight. . . ." As he trailed off, his voice grew softer, more seductive. Despite her better judgment, a tendril of distinctly sexual heat uncurled in Julia's abdomen.
Adam pressed his advantage. "Think about it. We'll make a great team. There's plenty in this deal for you, too." He gave Julia a slow, sexy grin that made her pulse race. For the first time, she noticed the deep dimple in his right cheek, something she'd only seen in the photos. "If I win, you'll have more access to the governor than anybody in the world. You'll get the best political job in the state -- maybe, one day, in the nation."
Julia shook her head and forced herself to think clearly. There were at least a thousand things wrong with Adam's proposition. She wasn't sure why she was even willing to consider it, especially since she had long ago decided she would never marry again. "What if someone finds out that we've made a -- a marriage of convenience?" she challenged him. Even as she said it, Julia blushed. The phrase sounded so nineteenth century.

Zachary Callahan is the darkly handsome editor of a magazine dedicated to proving that cold, hard scientific fact reign supreme. When he hears about a small-town shop selling "love potions", he's determined to prove that there's no such thing.
To his chagrin, shop proprietor Bryony Lowell -- with her wide, dreamy green eyes and enchanting red-gold hair -- won't sell him her allegedly magical elixir. It's only when he accepts a bet and agrees to take the potion himself that he realizes that his heart's in danger.
Will Zach fall under Bryony's spell? He's determined to win the bet, but for some reason he can't stop thinking about what it would be like to tangle his fingers in her coppery hair and draw her close for just one kiss....
EXCERPT
"Just listen, please? Both of you. I've got the solution to this whole mess."
Zach shrugged. "It can't hurt to hear her out."
"Fine, but that's all I'm doing," Bryony said. "Listening."
She stuck out her bottom lip like a rebellious child and stole a peek at Zach. He was rocking back on his heels, his muscular arms crossed, his brows arched in amused anticipation. He looked totally cool and collected, the opposite of how she felt. Her cheeks still burned, and her throat ached with suppressed tears.
How dare he, she thought. Underneath the outrage, however, lurked a different sentiment. Discovering Zach's true identity, Bryony had suddenly seen herself through his eyes. He must view her as just another flaky female to ridicule and expose.
Three sets of eyes focused on Vivien, who was obviously relishing her role as the center of attention. "I propose a test," she said. "A test of Bryony's love elixir. We'll prove it works -- to your satisfaction, Mr. Callahan."
Zach snorted. "How will you manage that?"
"Because you'll be the guinea pig."
"What?" three incredulous voices chorused.
"That's right," Vivien said, relishing the moment. "Zach will drink the potion. When he falls in love, he'll know its magical powers are authentic."
"Ah," Zach said, smiling. "And who's the lucky lady?"
Bryony glared daggers at her sister, warning her not to say it.
Vivien ignored her. "Why, Bryony, of course," she said. "Who else?"

Cassie Carlisle is on the run -- and wanted for murder. When she hides in the back of a pickup truck, it's just her luck that the truck belongs to a cowboy-turned-sheriff.
Jess Logan, with his dark eyes and bruised heart, just wants to to win a few more saddle bronc competitions and then go home alone to his cabin in the woods. But he can't resist his sexy blonde stowaway, secrets and all.
Could this be love -- or just a recipe for disaster?
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
Jess pulled off at an empty rest area and let Harry have a romp in the grass. Then he whistled for the dog, propped open the back of the camper, and heaved himself over the tailgate. He’d get a good sleep tonight. Jess flopped onto the mattress, stretched out--
And realized he was not alone.
Jess didn’t stop to ask questions. He tackled the shadowy figure, pinning the intruder’s arms against the quilt. Harry leapt into the pickup bed and, barking frantically, threw himself into the fray.
In spite of the chaos, Jess quickly realized one crucial and unexpected fact: his trespasser was female.
He knew for three simple reasons. First, in the tangle of limbs and flying fur, his hands encountered a pair of round, soft, very womanly breasts. Secondly, the resulting shriek of mingled outrage was too high-pitched for a man. And, finally, Jess’s nose was suddenly buried in a great deal of satiny hair, hair that smelled vaguely tropical. Kind of like rain and orchids.
She must use one of those botanical shampoos, he thought. Nice. Real nice.
Then reason reasserted itself, and he shouted for Harry to quit his racket. With one hand, he groped for the dog’s collar and hauled Harry away from the cowering woman. Harry backed up into a far corner of the camper, still growling low in his throat, while Jess rolled to the left and dug for the flashlight he kept in his toolbox. He clicked it on and aimed the full beam at the woman’s face.
Her eyes drew into slits against the sudden onslaught of light. She scrambled away from him and landed with a thud in the narrow space between the wheel well and the edge of the mattress, out of the flashlight’s beam. Still, Jess had seen enough.
He recognized that honey-colored hair. Ditto the frightened gray eyes, curvaceous figure, and livid bruise.
Faced with the woman he’d fantasized about for the last hundred or so miles, Jess found himself at a loss for words. Of course, he’d never been blessed with the gift of gab. He was the kind of a guy who said things straight out, without a lot of fancy talk. But now he couldn’t even manage that.
She spoke right up, though. No hesitation. “Hey,” she sputtered angrily. “What are you doing in my bed?”
Jess’s jaw dropped at the utter absurdity of her question. He frowned down at her until he finally found his tongue. “Your bed? Excuse me, ma’am, but I’d have to say this was my bed, last I checked.”
Confusion flitted across her even features. She wrinkled a cute little snub of a nose that turned up just a tad at the end. Then, as if she’d just remembered something, dawning horror replaced the confusion. “Oh. Oh, dear.” She broke off and pursed her lips into a kissable bow. “Are we still in the City?”
“San Francisco? Nope. About a hundred, hundred twenty miles north.”
To Jess’s surprise, she smiled. “Oh, that’s just perfect.” She squirmed in a way that stimulated every nerve ending in Jess’s body. “Um, could you lend a hand? I think I’m stuck.”
Sure enough, she was wedged tight between the wheel and the bed. Jess chuckled and reached for her hand. Damn, but her fingers were soft. He gave her a good tug, and she popped out like a cork from a bottle.
“Thanks bunches,” she said in a perky but faintly breathless voice. “Really. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be going. Bye, now.”
Struck speechless again, Jess could only stare as she inched nervously past the still-tense Harry, swung one shapely leg over the tailgate, balanced precariously for an instant, then hopped out of his truck.