Inheriting her grandmother's home is a dream come true for web designer Maxine Turner. She's looking forward to a little freedom from the constant demands of her beloved, crazy mob of a family. When vandals expose just how vulnerable she is living alone, she seeks help.

Ryan Claymore's well-thought-out life was wrenched out from under him when responsibility for his special-needs stepbrother landed on his shoulders. Going from military man to business man hasn't been easy. He counts himself lucky he's found Maxine to trade his security-system knowledge for her website expertise.

The red-hot chemistry that sizzles between them comes from out of the blue, and they both fight a losing battle to resist. Even the secret Ryan hides isn't enough to keep Maxine from working her way into his heart--and his bed.

But something else might tear them apart. Whoever seems determined to destroy her home, and her sanity along with it.

Maxwell Turner considers his stubborn and resourceful attitude a plus. After all, it usually gets him what he wants except for Natasha Bellingham. The long-time family friend may be ten years older than he, but so what? He s plenty old enough to know they belong together. Now all he has to do is convince her.

Over the past few years Natasha s love life has degenerated into a series of bad cliches. Her biological clock is ticking loudly. As a proven architect with her own house-design company, she s financially ready for a baby. Who says she needs a permanent man in her life for that? She just needs a donation .

When Max discovers Natasha s future plans include artificial insemination, he s outraged. She wants to get pregnant? No problem. He s more than willing to volunteer no turkey basters involved.

But there s one non-negotiable clause: He wants forever. And he intends to do everything in his power fair and unfair to make it happen.Warning: This title contains one younger man ready, aimed and hell bent on giving one woman everything she wants. Includes interludes against the wall, in a Jacuzzi, on a car hood and even shockingly enough on a bed or two. Oh, and about that porch swing? Yup