Книги, похожие на «Aimee Duffy, What a Girl Needs:»

The high price of buried secrets Khalis Tannous has spent years ruthlessly eradicating every hint of corruption and scandal from his life – even shunning his own family. When Grace Turner arrives at Khalis’s private Mediterranean island to view his family’s stolen collection of priceless art, even he isn’t blind to her beauty.Yet he recognises the shadows in her eyes – she too has her secrets. Grace can foresee the cost of giving in to temptation, but is helpless to resist Khalis’s slow, determined seduction. But will she risk everything she has for a night in his bed?

Her husband's suicide left Nora MacKenzie alone, and his shady Wall Street dealings left the Manhattan socialite penniless.By a miracle she's held on to their mountainside farm—and she'll keep holding on, no matter what. The property is Nora's one chance to wring some dignity out of the sham she's been living. The Vermont locals think she's a city girl on a nature kick, but she's not afraid to get her hands dirty.Nora's serious about learning the farming business…if she can figure out where to begin. Against the locals' skepticism, she has only one ally: Charles «C.W.» Walker. C.W. is hardworking, gentle with the animals and a patient teacher of the hundreds of chores Nora needs to learn.Slowly she starts to believe she'll survive in her new life, even flourish. She might even be willing to open her heart again. But she won't return to a life of lies…and the truth about C.W. may be more than Nora's fragile heart can bear.

I pay strangers to sleep with me. I have my reasons. . . . But they're not the ones you'd expect. For starters, I'm a funeral director taking over my dad's business. Not exactly the kind of person you'd expect to fork over cash for the lust and urgency only live skin-to-skin contact can create. Looking at me, you wouldn't have a clue I carry this little secret so close it creases up like the folds of a fan. Tight. Personal. Ready to unravel in the heat of the moment.Unsurprisingly, my line of work brings me face-to-face with loss. So I decided long ago that paying for sex would be one of the best (and arousing) ways to save myself from the one thing that would eventually cut far too deep. But Sam was a mistake. Literally. I signed on to «pick up» a stranger at a bar, but took Sam home instead.And now that I've felt his heat, his sweat and everything else, can I really go back to impersonal? Let's just hope he never finds out about my other life. . . .