From runaway bride...To pregnant princess! When Princess Ana runs out on her wedding she needs a place to hide — fast! Family friend and sexy security tycoon, Rhys North's Italian hideaway proves the perfect place to escape scandal. Until she has one unforgettable night in the arms of the brooding ex-soldier... When Ana's duty calls, they must go their separate ways but as Christmas approaches, Ana realizes she's carrying an unexpected gift...Rhys's baby! "This is my first Leah Ashton romance but it most definitely will not be my last. I cracked open The Prince's Fake Fiancée and devoured the book in a matter of hours. It's a colorful and heartwarming romantic tale and the perfect escape from a hectic day." Goodreads "It was light and lovely and also very modern and interesting...." Goodreads on Behind the Billionaire's Guarded Heart

One night at a wedding…! Workaholic Ivy Molyneux is primed for the biggest promotion of her life—she couldn’t be more ready to take over Australia’s biggest mining operation! Trouble is, after a wildly-out-of-character (and just plain wild) one-night stand at her sister’s wedding, it may have to be delayed…by about nine months. Ivy thought hooking up with fellow guest Angus Barlow was pretty crazy—until she finds herself telling this gorgeous SAS officer that she’s pregnant. Craziest thing of all? She finds him even more irresistible than ever! Ivy’s hoping it’s just the baby hormones, otherwise the next nine months are going to be even more challenging…!

His princess for keeps Playboy Prince Marko's rebellious past hides a wealth of pain, but he's neglected his royal duties for too long. And now that his brother and country need him, he'll do anything to prove he's changed—starting with a fake fiancée! Elite bodyguard Jasmine Gallagher was hired to protect the prince, not get swept into his glamorous world, but she can't help falling for the man behind the crown. Marko's found a way into Jas's guarded heart, but will he claim her as more than just his convenient princess?

Falling for her mysterious boss... When Australian heiress April Molyneux is left brokenhearted, she looks for a new start in London. Determined to stand on her own two feet, she finds herself working for the reclusive yet sexy billionaire Hugh Bennell. Hugh likes his life—and his emotions—uncomplicated, but meeting glamorous April changes everything. Hugh doesn't do relationships, and April wants to keep the independence she's worked so hard for. But with these sparks flying...resistance might be futile!

The tycoon she never forgot... Mila Molyneux had always harboured a secret crush on her childhood friend Sebastian Fyfe—until he married another woman. She buried her feelings and moved on, knowing it was best for everyone... Meeting Seb years later—now widowed and gorgeous as ever—their long-lost connection is as deep as ever. Only now difficult emotions challenge not only Seb but Mila, as well. Dare she hope they can now find happiness—if she can confront the hold this brooding tycoon still has over her?

Eleanor has worked hard to transform herself from the lonely girl she once was. Switching braces for a breathtaking smile, dowdy clothes for fabulous dresses, and heartbreak for flirty, fun-only dates, she's now "Ella." But one man can see the real woman beneath.Fiercely private billionaire Jake Donner has never forgotten Eleanor, and he's shocked to see how she's changed. Sparks begin to fly as old memories haunt them—for the innocent attraction they once resisted is all grown up and won't be denied again.…About the AuthorLeah Ashton has been a lifelong reader of romance. Writing came a bit later—although in hindsight she’s been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. Now she lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her own real-life hero. By day she works in IT; by night she considers herself incredibly lucky to be writing the type of books she loves to read. You can visit Leah at www.leah-ashton.com Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Sydney, New South Wales TodayIt was an ambush. Plain and simple.Jake Donner knew it. Every one of the board members who currently watched him with matching unreadable expressions knew it, too.How long had this been planned? Hours? Days? weeks? 'No.'Jake figured that was pretty much all that needed to be said.'There's no other option, Jake.' This came from Cynthia George, a silver-haired, retired chief executive of one of Australia's major banks who now spent her spare time on a handful of corporate boards across Sydney. As she studied him with what could only be described as a steely expression, Jake was reminded why he was so keen to appoint her to this board.Intimidating just began to cover it. Pretty damn scary was closer.But still, he shrugged. 'Find another one.'Jake forced his body to fall back into the soft leather of his high-backed chair, attempting a fair facsimile of casual nonchalance. But his muscles were tense, and he found himself fighting the instinct to leap up and pace around the edge of the Armada Software boardroom.This was not representative of his usual board meeting experience. Usually, the time was spent paying careful attention during the topics that interested him, zoning out during those that didn't, and occasionally congratulating himself on his decision a few years back to extract himself from this excruciatingly boring world of the business he'd founded. Now he had a twenty-eight per cent share of the company, an up-and-coming CEO—also currently studying him across the streaky marri surface of the boardroom table—and a board made up of Sydney's corporate elite—nearly all financially invested in Armada. All this added up to the perfect excuse to pay as minimal attention as possible to the day-to-day operations of the company and instead let the experts worry about it while he did what he was actually good at: coding software.Up until about a minute ago, this arrangement had been operating flawlessly.Across the table, the chief financial officer pushed a paper-clipped sheaf of papers in his direction, the pages fanning out slightly as they slowed to a stop.'Here's an option, Jake. We reduce our FTE by twenty per cent.'Full-time employees. In an organisation of over two thousand in this skyscraper alone, that was a heck of a lot of people. 'Cutting staff is a last resort.'The CFO nodded. 'Agreed.' He gestured at the LCD screen at the head of the table and the final presentation slide it still displayed. 'Hence the board's proposal.'Jake didn't even bother to look at the figures and multicoloured graphs before him. He was familiar with them all. He might slouch about in his chair and say very little at these meetings, but he read every single board document in detail.Sales were down. Costs were up. Australia might have weathered the Global Financial Crisis better than most of the world, but Armada had not emerged unscathed.The facts were inarguable.But the proposed solution?Definitely worth arguing about.'I'm confident that the release of Armada's first smart phone will significantly increase revenue,' Jake said, and he was. Just not as confident as he'd been last night when he'd absorbed the surprising financial report. He'd expected the board to have a typically brilliant solution to what he'd been sure was a temporary problem. But their unease was unsettling. Their solution impossible.Jake Donner—as the new face of Armada? Nope. Wasn't going to happen.'There's no need for something so drastic,' he said.Cynthia smiled without humour. 'A few TV and radio appearances, a conference keynote address and a couple of interviews is hardly drastic, Jake. Armada needs a public face, and you're it.'He shook his head. 'For a decade the quality of our products has spoken for itself. I seriously doubt wheeling out some computer geek is going to help anything.'She snorted, an incongruous sound in the perfectly silent room. 'Computer geek? Try infamous multimillionaire recluse. Number two in Headline magazine's list of Australia's most intriguing people. Number one in Lipstick's most eligible bachelors. The increased publicity for the new phone will be immeasurable should you be the face of the product.'Jake sank even further into his chair, stretching his long jean-clad legs out beneath the table. He didn't ask to be featured in those stupid glossy magazines. Didn't ask to forever be annoying his long-suffering local constabulary in order to despatch the more than occasional misguided journalist or photographer who trespassed onto his Blue Mountains acreage home.It was all nonsense. Absolute rubbish. There was no story to be found. No scoop.Was it really that unusual to despise Sydney's concrete jungle? To equate wearing a suit, unending meetings and patently false schmoozing to something only a few degrees south of selling his soul?Apparently so.Who cared that he'd rather work remotely from the comfy couch in his lounge room? Who cared that he'd rather stick pins in his eyes than attend some society function chockfull of Sydney's self-satisfied, Botoxed elite? Who cared that he truly believed his private life was private and that a flat no-interview policy made his life significantly easier?Well, according to the ten sets of eyes focused on him right this second, and the substantial business acumen behind them—a lot of people cared. A hell of a lot of people.Jake gave up pretending to be all casual and dispassionate. He flattened his sneakers to the parquet floor and shoved his chair backwards, leaping to his feet in a sharp movement. The chair continued its journey until it thumped gently against the wall, but by then Jake had already completed half a lap of the room's wall of windows.'In a saturated marketplace, Jake, just having a great product isn't enough.' This came from the Vice President, Marketing & Communications, an elegant, spindly woman with jet-black hair. 'Unfortunately, early indications from our market research are that the Armada phone is generating little interest from consumers. Our US and Japanese competitors have the market cornered—people want the familiar brand, regardless of our superior phone.'Jake paused. 'And what, exactly, do you think I could do about that? How is my mug on a magazine cover going to sell phones?'The VP smiled. 'The results of our copy-testing focus groups are compelling. An advertisement including your name and photo scored significantly higher in brand linkage and consumer motivation. We're talking quadrupling of interest in the product.'Jake didn't even bother being surprised that focus groups had been run. Of course they had. He was the only one late to this party.He rubbed his forehead, a futile effort to erase the newly created furrows. His jaw was clamped shut and his teeth ground together.'The board's recommendation is that we proceed with the Jake Donner campaign.' It was Cynthia again.'If you decline, we'll be forced to reconvene to begin implementation of the company restructure,' added the CFO. Restructure, of course, being code for mass redundancies.Now the VP chimed in. 'We're planning a short campaign, Jake. One month of inconvenience to you for tens of millions in potential increased revenue.'The whole board murmured in enthusiastic agreement. Yes, this was definitely an ambush. He half expected them all to start lobbing their pens at him next—in a perfectly coordinated fashion, of course.One month of inconvenience.Could he do it? One month of shoehorning himself into whatever shiny package Marketing chose to squish him into? One month of posing and saying all the right things in aid of dragging Armada out of this financial hole?One month for thousands of saved jobs and millions of dollars?It didn't sound like much of a sacrifice when put like that. He might be far from the sole owner any more, but deep down inside he still considered Armada his. His responsibility. His employees.Really, the decision was a no brainer.Reluctantly, Jake grunted something that Cynthia correctly interpreted as acquiescence.Well, he wasn't about to jump up and down in excitement, was he?Something totally random occurred to him: Lord. He'dbetter not have to wear a suit.Ella Cartwright waited patiently outside the boardroom's double doors, seated neatly on a low leather couch. Her black patent heels did not click nervously on the floorboards. Her fingers did not twist and tie themselves in knots on her lap. And she certainly didn't ask the CEO's personal assistant, who'd escorted her all the way to the twenty-sixth floor, any of the myriad questions about Jake Donner that sat on the tip of her tongue.Not doing all those things was possible, of course, because those things she could control.The butterflies currently tap-dancing in her tummy? Well, not so much.But that was okay.No one needed to know about them.Finally, the doors were pushed open, and a parade of exquisitely suited executives slowly made their way out. Ella was on her feet well before she caught a flash of Cynthia George's distinctive red blazer amongst the mass of wintry black, grey and navy.Ella allowed herself a fleeting moment of pride as she recognised the jacket she'd personally selected for Cynthia's revamped wardrobe. With her sharp haircut, flawlessly applied make-up and flattering outfit, Cynthia was a walking advertisement for Picture Perfect, Ella's five-year-old image consultancy firm.But, while Cynthia's 'look' had needed a review, her communication—and negotiation—skills definitely hadn't. This had been demonstrated most effectively to Ella when she'd attempted to say no w...

Giving in to temptation never felt so good!Ruby Bell has put scandal and relationships behind her to forge a successful career in film. Then the talk of Hollywood himself, actor Devlin Cooper, strolls onto her Outback set—fired from his two previous movies, and looking decidedly tempting! The last thing Ruby needs is Dev making outrageous demands and causing her to question her "no romance at work" rule….But what's a girl to do when Dev's taking her on a lavish date one moment, then calling "cut" on their growing closeness the next? What exactly does he want with her—and what's causing the shadows behind those famous blue eyes? Now she's too intrigued to walk away….About the AuthorLeah Ashton has been a lifelong reader of romance. Writing came a bit later—although in hindsight she’s been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. Now she lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her own real-life hero. By day she works in IT; by night she considers herself incredibly lucky to be writing the type of books she loves to read. You can visit Leah at www.leah-ashton.com Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Ruby Bell estimated her phone rang approximately half a second before her brisk walk was rudely interrupted by an unfortunately located tuft of grass.More fortunately, she'd had the presence of mind to hold onto said phone during her less than graceful swan-dive onto the dusty paddock floor. A paddock that had once housed a significant number of sheep, but more recently had become the temporary home of a ninety-strong film crew. Thankfully this particular patch of paddock showed no evidence of sheep occupation.But, at such close range, Ruby had also learnt that the paddock floor was: a) lumpy and b) hard.'Paul,' Ruby said, wincing slightly as she lifted the phone to her ear. Still lying flat on her belly in the dirt, she shifted her weight in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid the patches of grass that prickled through the thin fabric of her T-shirt and the seeping warmth that had once been her half-drunk cardboard cup of coffee. Just slightly winded, Ruby's voice was a little breathy, but otherwise she sounded about as efficient as always. Good. She'd built a successful career as a production coordinator that took her across the globe—regularly—by being sensible, unflappable, no-nonsense Ruby. Tripping over her own feet couldn't even begin to rattle her.'I need you back at the office,' Paul said, even more flustered than usual. 'There's been a development.'And that was it—he'd already hung up. Ruby knew it was impossible to interpret her producer's urgent tone—it was quite possible the sky was falling, but about the same odds that one of the runners had simply screwed up his espresso again. Either way, Ruby needed to get her butt into gear.'You okay, Rubes?'Ruby glanced up at the worried voice, squinting a little against the early afternoon sun. But, even mostly in shadow—or maybe because of it—the very broad and very solid frame of Bruno, the key grip, was unmistakeable. Beside him stood a couple of the younger grips, looking about as awkward as they always did when they weren't busily carting heavy objects around—plus about half the hair and make-up department. Which made sense, given she'd managed to come crashing to the ground right outside their trailers.'Of course,' she said, pressing her outflung hands into the soil and levering herself up onto her knees. She waved away Bruno's helpful hand as she plucked at her T-shirt, pulling the coffee-soaked fabric away from her chest. The parts of her not damp and clinging were decorated with a mix of grass stains and a remarkable number of dirt smudges.Awesome.But she didn't have time to worry about the state of her outfit just now. Or her hair—running her fingers through her short blonde pixie-cut confirmed only that it was somehow dusty, too.A moment later she was back on her feet and her day carried on exactly as before—grass stains and the uncomfortable sensation she was covered in a head-to-toe sticky coating of dirt notwithstanding.'Ruby!' A yell from somewhere to her left. 'Weather tomorrow?''Fine. No chance of rain,' she called out, not even slowing her pace. Paul, as always, would've preferred if she'd gained the power of teleportation. In its absence, she just needed to walk even faster than normal.The cottage that temporarily housed the film's production office was only a few minutes away—tucked to the left beyond the final cluster of shiny black or white trailers and the slightly askew tent city that was catering.She kept her focus on her path—already well worn into the grass in the two days since they'd set up camp—mentally crossing her fingers for nothing more serious than a coffee-related emergency. So far she'd already dealt with an unexpected script change, a sudden decision to relocate a scene, and an entitled young actress who'd gone temporarily AWOL. And it was only day one of filming.'Got a minute?' asked Sarah, a slight redhead in charge of the extensive list of extras required for The Land—an 'epic historical romance played out in the heart of the out-back'—from the top stair of a shiny black trailer.'No,' Ruby said, but slowed anyway. 'Paul,' she said, as way of explanation.'Ah,' Sarah replied, then skipped down from the trailer to fall into step with Ruby as she passed. 'Just a quick one. I've got a call from a concerned parent. They're worried about how we're going to get Samuel to cry in tomorrow's scene.'By the time she'd reached the last of the row of trailers a minute later, Sarah was on her way with a solution, and Ruby had fielded another phone call on her mobile. Arizona Smith's assistant wanted to know if there were Ashtanga Yoga classes in Lucyville, the small north-west New South Wales country town in which they were filming.Given the remote town's population was just under two thousand people, Ruby considered this unlikely—but still, with a silent sigh, promised to get back to their female lead's assistant asap.Ruby broke into a jog as she turned the corner, her gaze trained downward—she wasn't about to hit the dirt again today—and her brain chockfull of potential 'developments' and their hypothetical impact on her already tight schedule.Consequently, the first she knew of the very large man walking around the corner in the opposite direction was when she slammed straight into him.'Ooomph!' The slightly strangled sound burst from her throat at the impact of her body hitting solid muscle. She barely registered her hands sliding up sun-warmed arms to grip T-shirt clad shoulders for balance, or the way her legs tangled with his.What she did notice, however, were his hands, strong and firm at her waist, the fingers of one hand hot against bare skin where her T-shirt had ridden an inch or two upwards.And the scent of his skin, even through the thin layer of cotton, where her face was pressed hard against his chest.Fresh, clean. Delicious. Oh, my.'Hey,' he said, his voice deep and a little rough beside her ear. 'You okay?'Slowly, slowly, embarrassment began to trickle through her body.No, not embarrassment—the realisation that she should be embarrassed, that she should be extricating herself from this…clinch…as soon as possible.'Mmm-hmm', she said indistinctly, and didn't move at all.His fingers flexed slightly, and she registered that now she was moving. Then her back pressed against the cool metal of the shaded wall of a trailer, and she was sliding downwards. He'd been holding her—her feet dangling. Somehow she'd had no idea of this fact until her ballet flats were again responsible for holding her upright.Had anyone ever held her so effortlessly?She was medium height, far from tiny—and yet this man had been holding her in his arms as if she weighed as much as the average lollypop-thin Hollywood lead actress.Nice.Again his hands squeezed at her waist.'Hey,' he repeated. 'You're worrying me here. Are you hurt?'She blinked and finally lifted her head from his chest. She tried to look at him, to figure out who he was—but his face was mostly in shadow, the sunlight a white glare behind him.But something about the angle of his jaw was familiar. Who was he? He was fit, but he wasn't one of the grips. Some of the guys in Props were pretty tall, but Ruby honestly couldn't imagine enjoying being held in the arms of any of them. Which she was, undeniably, doing right now. Enjoying this.She shook her head, trying to focus. 'Just a bit dazed, I think,' she managed. Belatedly, she acknowledged that was true. With every second, the fog was dissipating. But it was a gradual transition.Right now, she found herself perfectly happy where she was. Standing right where she was.'Are you okay?' she asked.She could barely make out the slightest curve to his lips, but it was there. 'I'll survive.'His grip on her softened a little as he seemed to realise she wasn't in any imminent danger. But he didn't let her go. Her hands still rested on his shoulders, but removing them wasn't even a consideration.A cloud shifted or something, and the shadows lightened. Now she could make out the square line of his jaw, covered liberally in stubble; the sculpted straightness of his nose, and the almost horizontal slashes of his eyebrows. But even this close—close enough that the action of breathing almost brought her chest up against his—she couldn't quite make out the colour of his gaze.A gaze that she knew was trained on her, exploring her face—her eyes, her lips.Ruby closed her eyes tight shut, trying to assemble her thoughts. Trying to assemble herself, actually.The fog had cleared. Reality was reentering—her reality. Straightforward, straight-talking Ruby Bell. Who was not taken to romantic notions or embracing total strangers.He wasn't crew. He must be an extra, some random guy minding his own business before she'd literally thrown herself into his arms.Inwardly, she cringed. Too late, mortification hit.Hard.Rational, no-nonsense words were right on the tip of her tongue as she opened her eyes.But instead of speaking, she sucked in a sharp breath. He'd moved closer. So, so close.The man didn't look worried now. He looked almost…predatory. In a very, very good way. She swallowed. Once, twice. He smiled.Beneath traitorous fingers that had crept along his shoulders to his nape, his overlong hair was coarse beneath her fingertips.'You,' he said, his breath fanning against her cheek, 'are quite the welcoming party.'Ruby felt overwhelmed by him. His size, his devastating looks, his nearness. She barely made out what he'd said. 'Pardon?'He d...

The man behind the pinstripes! Lanie Smith's boss might look heavenly in a suit, but she's being run ragged by Grayson Manning's outrageous demands! Dog-sitting, clothes shopping...there's nothing he won't ask her to do! (Luckily, she's spent enough time checking out Gray's broad shoulders that guessing his shirt size isn't a problem....) The final straw? Being ordered to drop everything for a business trip to Vietnam. But one completely unexpected (and completely magical) kiss later, Lanie's forced to admit the truth--that their supercharged battle of wills hides a much more dangerous attraction....