Aiden Slate.
Pro hockey star. Captain of the Redville Saints. And the bane of my existence.
All it takes is a little liquid courage to storm his castle.
Or, in this case, a cushy five-star hotel suite.
I’m supposed to give him a piece of my mind.
To unleash a decade of pent-up anger.
What I’m not supposed to do is sign an NDA meant for another woman.
He thinks I’m here to relieve his stress.
Well, he’s in for a rude awakening.
Problem #1? The boy I grew up with doesn’t remember me.
Problem #2? I fall to my knees at his command. Literally.
Next thing I know, I agree to be his fake girlfriend.
He doesn't realize I’m the girl he left behind ten years ago.
The last thing I'll do is admit it.
Because Aiden might have abandoned me all those years ago.
But me? I’ll forever be his.
Twisted Collide:
My dad abandoned me as a baby.
My mom just kicked me out.
Oh, and I can’t stand hockey.
It’s shocking how many drunken secrets Dane Sinclair fleeces from me the night we meet.
It’s supposed to be a one-night stand.
No numbers.
No strings attached.
A release we both desperately need.
Neither of us expect to come face-to-face again on my first day working for the Redville Saints.
Dane thinks I targeted him.
That I seduced him, knowing he’s their star enforcer.
Despite his suspicions, he can’t stay away from me.
I’m his dirty little secret.
His coach’s off-limits daughter.
The whole world thinks he’s a Saint.
It’s about to find out behind the squeaky clean exterior is just another sinner.
Beautiful Collide:
Nothing has gone right since my brother’s new teammate entered my life.
Season one: I betrayed him.
Season two: a literal tornado almost ends it all for both of us.
(In my defense, I didn’t summon the tornado. I just happened to lead us to where it hit.)
Season three: I might have unleashed a stampede of teenage fangirls on him.
(Okay. I take full responsibility for this one.)
And season four…
That’s when things get complicated.
Hudson Wilde.
Star right wing for the Redville Saints.
Cocky, infuriating, and the bane of my existence.
Oh, and as of last night, my brand-new husband.
It was supposed to be a wild Vegas celebration for my brother’s hockey championship win.
Instead, I wake up with a splitting headache, a cheap ring on my finger, and my sworn nemesis pounding on my door.
Now, we’re stuck in a secret marriage until we can get it annulled.
These are the rules:
Pretend everything is normal around the team.
Avoid the media at all costs.
But the hardest rule of all?
Fighting the urge to turn "I do" into "forever.