Results by "Blair Babylon" in All categories

Everybody in the office said that Cash was a heartbreaker, that he’d bump her and dump her, so Rox decided not to become a statistic. She went out and bought herself some rings of the finest cubic zirconia so that she could work with Cash, who was several inches over six feet tall, emerald-eyed, ripped, gorgeous, his tailored suit clinging to his athletic body, sporting a British accent, and loaded.

He’s one of the world’s most eligible billionaires, tall, hot, royal, and ripped, and he just drunk-married a stranger in Las Vegas. Me. Nicolai Romanov drunk-married me, a recently dumped HR rep from Nebraska, though I was just trying to keep a hot drunk dude with sad eyes from face-planting into traffic. Worse, he livestreamed the wedding on social media. Thousands of people saw it. Including a Russian organized crime boss who’d had plans for Nicolai, and the Russian government that keeps tabs on people who might want to claim the rightful crown.

Arthur Finch-Hatten is six-feet-four-inches of hot, ripped, loaded English billionaire nobleman who is wasting his life and his earldom so audaciously that his younger brother is suing him for control. Arthur stands to lose everything, including his cover as an MI-6 spy. Genevieve is a lawyer, not a babysitter, and certainly not a dog trainer. She is just about to become a full barrister when her mentor dies unexpectedly. She is shuffled off to another barrister, one who’s nothing at all like her kind, decent former mentor, and then she is assigned the office’s worst case: Arthur.

Casimir and Gen have a lot to work out after she flounces out of his office. And what’s going on with the law firm’s partners? Was someone was watching them through a telescope from the top of the hill by Casimir’s house? And who caused the car accident that almost killed him? You don't want to miss the steamy, exciting conclusion of the Secret Billionaires: Casimir Duet!

Nicolai Romanov is one of the world’s most eligible billionaires, tall, royal, hot, and ripped, and he just drunk-married a commoner off the streets of Las Vegas. And the worst part is, he’s falling in love with her. But surely there’s no way Lexi Byrne, a recently jilted bride from Nowhere, Nebraska, can fit into Nicolai’s dazzling, jet-set, royal billionaire world. Not at a huge Vegas nightclub party with more royal titles than a historical romance novel. Not among his tall, gorgeous, eerily beautiful friends who look like they stepped out of a romantasy series.

Marrying a billionaire I'd met an hour before was a giant mistake. Nicolai not signing a pre-nup with me was an even worse one, for him. Because now I’m hooked. In twenty-four hours, I’ve met his younger brother, his awesome cousin, and his lifelong boarding school buddies. They connected with me on their secret social media accounts. I’m in the group chat. Last night, for the first time, he touched me. I’ve made some really weird life choices, so I’d never been . . . touched. Not like that. Wow. I mean, holy cow. I’ve been missing out.

Arthur Finch-Hatten’s MI6 cover as a degenerate nobleman is falling apart fast, which means not only will he be in danger, but so will his jerk brother, his innocent nieces, and everyone else he cares for, especially Gen Ward.

For one moment, Maxence had everything he wanted. The love of his life, Dree Clark, had said yes, Monaco was secure, and his future was clear and bright. For just one moment. Now, Maxence stares into the darkness of the barrel of an assault rifle hovering inches from his face, and he prays he can save Dree's life. "Run," he tells her, but she won't leave him. Maxence thought he would Reign in Monaco as the sovereign prince with Dree by his side, but now he's fighting for both their lives.

To escape and save the lives of herself and two-year-old Alina Mirabaud, Flicka von Hannover walked into the arms of her ex-husband, who wants only her title and her genes in his family tree. She is whisked away to Monaco and held prisoner while her ex plots how many children she will produce for him and his throne. 

Dree has been swindled, chased, heartbroken, conscripted, and kidnapped. What on Earth could be worse than all that? Don’t ask. Don’t miss the exciting next book in the Maxence saga, Royal!

When is a rescue not a rescue? When it’s a kidnapping. Flicka and Dieter, whose real name is Raphael Mirabaud, tried to escape her ex-husband’s Secret Service and army, but they couldn’t. Dozens of military personnel, maybe hundreds, surrounded them, trying to kidnap Flicka. The only way out was with mercenaries hired by Raphael’s father. But Raphael’s father has other plans for them...

Flicka von Hannover was a princess, but not anymore, sort of. To hide from her conniving soon-to-be ex-husband and divorce him as soon as possible, she runs to the place specified by her prenuptial agreement, Las Vegas. She has left everyone and everything behind except Dieter Schwarz, her bodyguard who saved her that terrible night and smuggled her to Paris and now to Nevada.

Flicka won’t allow herself to be terrified. She’s on the run from her cheating, soon-to-be ex-husband Prince Pierre and his Secret Service, and she doesn’t have a passport, credit cards, or money. She needs to get to Paris to talk to her lawyers about divorcing that bastard. The only thing standing between her and the cheating prince is Dieter Schwarz, her bodyguard, her protector, and her ex-lover. He’s six feet, four inches of sarcasm, dark humor, and rock-hard muscle.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. Flicka von Hannover lived an enchanted life. She jetted around Europe staging charity events with friends, had married a handsome prince. But then she found the handsome prince in bed with a duchess. So the princess ran to the only person she could trust, a man who was frankly not a handsome prince. No one knew that he had been her first lover and broken her heart, but he's the only one she can trust now.  

Maxence is the next person in line for the throne, but he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want anything to do with it. But other people do want the throne and the billions in wealth that go with it, people with evil agendas or who just want the money. Max is the only guy who stands in their way. And good people seem to be in short supply. Plus, he’s constantly distracted by the constant thorn in his side Dree Clark, who he’s conscripted to be his new secretary. Her curves drive him out of his mind, and her sweet soul is more than he’s ever hoped for. 

Dree is on the run. Her dead ex-boyfriend owes a whole lot of money to some drug dealers, and if they can’t get the cash from Dree, they’ll take it out of her hide. When Catholic Charities offers Dree a mission into the far reaches of Nepal because they need a nurse, Dree jumps at the opportunity and prays she’ll be safe. Until she meets the Catholic priest who’ll be leading the mission. It’s Augustine, the sexy guy from Paris. But he has a new name, Father Maxence Grimaldi. Well, she’d told him to lie to her.

Maxence’s brother was trying to kidnap or kill him, and an organized crime thug wanted to cut off Max’s head and feed it to the sharks for entirely different reasons. So when a cute little blonde stood up on a barstool in the middle of the Buddha Bar in Paris and drew the attention of the wrong sort of guys, Maxence swooped in for the rescue. Everything about her appealed to him: her sweetness, her giggliness, and especially the fact that she was in trouble. That last part made her sugar and catnip to Max.

One night in Monaco, my best friend, Maxence, disappeared from the middle of the Monte Carlo casino like blowing away a breath of smoke. I have no idea what Maxence was doing in Monaco that night. Yeah, he loves the Monte Carlo casino - the stage of British spy movies, billionaires, Russian mafia, and roulette. But too many people in Monaco think he might be a danger to them. He never should have been there. But he was. And so was Simone.

London trial lawyer Gen has managed to corral that randy colt his lordship Arthur Finch-Hatten, the Earl of Severn, at least as far as anyone knows. In public, he seems to be behaving himself, but she’s kind of gotten involved with her client in a way that the Bar’s ethics committee would totally not approve of.

Genevieve is a lawyer, not a babysitter. She is just about to become a full barrister, a British litigating attorney, when her law mentor dies unexpectedly. She is shuffled off to another barrister, one who’s nothing at all like her kind and decent former mentor, and then she is assigned the office’s worst case: Arthur Finch-Hatten, six feet and four inches of ripped, loaded, hot English nobleman who is wasting his life and his inherited estate so audaciously that his younger brother is suing him for control of their family’s earldom.