Three standalone billionaire romantic comedies, and not one sensible arrangement among them.
Juno, a cactus-loving botanist, nearly fails to get out of an elevator with a grumpy billionaire obsessed with ancient Rome and a demonic Persian cat.
One humiliating rescue later, she has lost her chance at the perfect plant-care job, and a paparazzi photo convinces the world—and Lucius’s ecstatic grandmother—that he has finally found the one.
For a hefty sum she agrees to act as his girlfriend, keep Gram happy, and hold off the groupies.
They promise to keep their hands to themselves. The feelings show up anyway.
Lilly reaches Bruce Roxford’s mansion in a rage, ready to confront the billionaire whose bank took her childhood home.
His Chihuahua puppy wrecks that plan on sight, and the outrageous salary makes her want the dog-nanny job she had meant only as a way in.
His impossible blue eyes and godlike body make the speech even harder to remember. Maybe revenge can wait.
Jane, devoted to historical romance, is counting on the library interview of her dreams when a giant, sheep-like dog brings the whole thing down in the mud.
The pup’s rakish owner, Adrian Westfield, means to make it up to her, and an absurd idea strikes him.
She needs money. He needs custody of his baby daughter.
His solution is to make her his fake wife.
