It's my fault for falling for a filthy rich and obscenely handsome Manhattan type.Silly of me to think Preston had something more beneath his immaculate suit than just a chiseled body.But what a body. I still wake up sweating from dreams about the night we shared.I thought knowing I'll never experience one again was torture enough. I was wrong. Because working with him every single day is definitely worse. I hate that he thinks he can order me around or that he still thinks I belong to him.And I really hate that he stays late in the office when I try to bury myself in work to stop thinking about him.Most of all though, I hate seeing glimpses of the man I once believed he was.Hints of true passion and charm beneath Mr. Billionaire's stone-cold demeanor. But it doesn't matter how many evenings we spend together in the office. There is absolutely no way I'm falling for him again. No cheating, no cliffhangers. HEA guaranteed!

    Literally. My family drew sticks to see who had to take Yiayia on a cruise to scatter Papou’s ashes around the Greek Islands.I knew the whole thing was rigged, but here I am anyway, smuggling a Ziplock bag of ashes—don’t ask—halfway across the world with my four-hundred-year-old grandmother in tow. She is on a mission to tell the world that this generation doesn’t know how to make a good baklava, too. The woman is fueled solely by spite and fig newtons.Needless to say, the absolute last thing I need is to spend the trip with an actual Greek god. Apollo Nikas. The man my parents hired to make sure Yiayia and I don’t end up on the next episode of Locked Up Abroad, because the only person they trust less than Yiayia is me. The man is allergic to wearing properly fitting shirts. And now that I’ve seen him in a speedo, there is no going back. Zeus help me.

    We're enemies.I have no interest in being a pawn.But if that's what the family's want,Then that's what they get.Reese is pretty, powerful, and sassy to boot.But when we learn this isn't the truce,We were all expecting,She threatens to run.I didn't think I could stand her,Now I can't live without her.What's an Irishman to do?Drink and chase the lass of course.She'll be mine,No matter what war our families are brewing.