by Day Leclaire
His eyes darkened, filled with a desperate desire that caused her to shake with an answering passion. He jackknifed upward, water cascading off him in sheets. Snagging a towel, he wrapped it around her and helped her from the tub. He took his time toweling her off, his touch deliberately arousing. He rubbed her breasts, abrading the nipples with the soft terry cloth, then her stomach. Finally, he slid the towel between her legs in a slow, torturous assault. Her knees buckled in reaction and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her through to the bedroom.
There he laid her on the mattress. This time nothing separated them, but for some reason she didn’t feel the least modest or shy. She held out her arms to him and he joined her, kissing her repeatedly, deep, drugging kisses. All the while he caressed her, from breast to belly. She mirrored his movements, finding his flat nipples in the mat of hair across his chest before chasing downward to the hard, rippled surface of his abdomen. His hand drifted lower, from belly to thigh. She followed his lead, exploring the taut, toned muscles of his thighs, the sprinkle of hairs grazing her palm. He shifted from thigh to the heated core of her and she cupped him, stroked him, massaged him. His fingers played with the soft folds of her cleft, dipping into liquid warmth and she traced her thumb across the rounded tip of him. An urgent craving cascaded through her, compelling. Demanding. Unable to resist, she parted her legs, tilting her hips to encourage his touch, before drawing him to her.
He settled between her thighs and drove inward. She froze and he did, too, giving her time to adjust to the uncomfortable stretching. “I love you, Grace,” he told her.
“Oh, Luc. I love you so very much.”
He kissed her, taking her mouth in the sweetest of kisses at the same instant as he mated their bodies, melding them one to the other. The pain came and went, fleeting and negligible. But what followed was more spectacular than anything she’d ever imagined possible. He thrust into her with measured, easy strokes. She clung to him, simply allowing him to set the pace. Little by little, she moved with him, discovering the steps to an exquisite dance only the two of them would ever share.
An urgency built itself into the rhythm, a rising compulsion, a culmination that drove them onward. The breath sobbed from her lungs and she clung to him, desperate to reach that shining pinnacle. An instant later, she slammed against it and shattered, coming utterly undone. With a roar, Luc followed her, tumbling with her, his arms locked around her, his breath hot and frantic against neck.
“Cara mia, I think you have killed me.”
“I think we died together because this has got to be heaven.”
He pulled back, grinning down at her. “It is heaven, with you. I think it will always be heaven, so long as you’re in my arms.”
For some reason, a lingering doubt assailed her. “Are you sure? Are you really sure?”
He cupped her face and kissed her, a soothing, reassuring kiss. “I’ve been sure for a very long time. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize what’s been right under your nose for the past year.”
“You’ve been waiting for me? I don’t understand. Why did you wait, instead of saying something sooner?”
“Have you forgotten about Will-William?”
“Yes,” she admitted. And she had. Since he didn’t exist, he was easy to forget.
“Your fictitious fiancé has plagued me for a full year. He’s been a thorn in my side that I could neither remove, nor overlook.”
“You never said anything.”
His gaze hardened. “I don’t poach. It wouldn’t be honorable.”
No, he didn’t. Otherwise Dom would never have suggested the plan. “You know why I pretended to be engaged. At least, now you do.”
“I do.” He frowned, though it looked more thoughtful than irritated. “I will admit, it proved beneficial in one regard.”
“In what way?”
He regarded her seriously. “It gave us plenty of time to get to know each other, really get to know each other. As people, not just lovers.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I learned you weren’t quite the man your father described. Yes, you were charming. And yes, women seem to buzz around you like bees around nectar.”
“What can I say? It’s my Salvatore charm.” His teasing faded. “Not that it ever worked on you.”
She snuggled into his embrace. “Oh, it worked. I just couldn’t let you know how well it was working.” She returned to her original point. “But you never took anyone for granted. You’re one of the hardest working men I’ve ever met, as well as one of the most generous. And you genuinely care about people.”
“As do you, amorata mia. And people care about you. They can’t help themselves. You have the kindest heart I’ve ever known.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one to answer. Dinner should arrive soon. From here, we eat.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “And then?”
“Then we begin a wonderful journey, you and I. One that begins with food.”
“And ends with . . . ?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“Why, it ends the way all good fairy tales end.” He pulled her in and kissed her with a deep, hungry passion. “With the two of us living happily-ever-after.”
The End
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Other Titles by Day Leclaire
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The Salvatore Brothers Series:
Six sexy Italian-American brothers, ready to win their soul mates.
The Salvatore Brothers will charm, tempt, seduce … or even wed and bed.
They’ll do whatever it takes to find their bride.
And when they say whatever it takes, they mean absolutely anything!
HOW TO: Hide a Baby (Book #1)
You might need a scorecard…!
HOW TO: Bare Your Bride (Book #2)
Married at first sight!
HOW TO: Win Your Woman (Book #3)
He’d do anything to have her—even marry her.
HOW TO: Marry Christmas (Book #4)
Santa left quite the surprise in his stocking!
HOW TO: Seduce Your Wife (Book #5)
He planned to seduce her … not fall in love with her.
HOW TO: Lure Your Mate (Book #6)
COVER TO COME!
He’d do anything to protect her.
The Dante Inferno: The Dante Dynasty Series
Some blazes, once ignited, can’t be extinguished.
Just one burning touch connects a Dante with his soul mate.
The Inferno … curse or blessing?
Sev’s Blackmailed Bride, Book #1
Matteo’s Stolen Wife, Book #2
Nicolò’s Wedding Deception, Book #3
Lazz’s Contract Marriage, Book #4
Luc’s Unwilling Wife, Book #5
Rafe’s Temporary Fiancée, Book #6
Draco’s Marriage Pact, Book #7
Gianna’s Honor-Bound Husband, Book #8
Becoming Dante: Gabe, Book #9
Dante’s Dilemma: Romero, Book #10
Forever Dante: Lucia, Book #11
The Wacky Women Series
In the world of Wacky Women, nothing ever goes according to plan!
From one disaster to the next, these women will do anything to find true love.
Heartwarming, hilarious, and unexpectedly poignant, Fall into laughter while you fall in love.
Once Upon a Cowboy (Book #1)
Once Upon a Jinx (Book #2)
Once Upon a Time (Book #3)
Once Upon a Ghost (Book #4)
Once Upon an Enchantment (Book #5)
The Cinderella Ball Series:
Fairy Tale Husband
Fairy Tale Wife
Fairy Tale Wedding
Fairy Tale Marriage
Excerpt from HOW TO: Bare Your Bride
The Salvatore Brothers Series
Book #2
by
Day Leclaire
USA Today Bestselling Author
Chapter 1
The Beaumont’s Cinderella Ball—Forever, Nevada
Take a breath! Hanna silently ordered herself, struggling to hang on to her self-control. It was difficult. She’d never felt so out of her element in all of her twenty-six years. Not that she’d ever betray that fact. Not a chance. She’d spent a lifetime tackling events and situations that weren’t of her own making. And she’d handled each of them with every scrap of skill she could muster.
She could handle a simple marriage ball, as well. No problem.
Glancing at her watch, she nodded in satisfaction. Eight o’clock on the dot, just as the invitation had stated. Perfect. Paying off the cab driver, she stepped from the back of the taxi with all the grace of a woman wearing a ball gown and tiara instead of dressed in a costume resembling a plucked chicken. Perhaps attending the masked ball as a swan princess hadn’t been the best choice, after all. The feathers tickled and the gold net she’d employed to restrain her hair had clearly failed in its duty. Auburn ringlets were already escaping, trembling at her temples and the nape of her neck. She almost turned and fled to the relative safety of the cab. At the last instant, she did the same as always when faced with an obstacle that caused uncertainty and fear.
She forced her posture into painful stiffness and confronted it dead-on, jaw set, gaze unflinching, and fears buried so deep they’d never be unearthed.
A group of partygoers passed by, no doubt anxious to get to the business of finding a mate. Immediately she felt better. A plump Juliet, an aging Cinderella, a painfully nervous Sleeping Beauty, and a woman who had the audacity to attend as Lady Godiva joined the stream of visitors heading for the Beaumont mansion. One silk-and-feathered swan no longer seemed the least outrageous.
Checking that her mask fully covered her face, offering a protection she secretly appreciated, she walked toward the double doors leading into the mansion. Once inside, she looked around in amazement.
It was quite a place. The marble entrance hall seemed to stretch into infinity, the huge support pillars decorated with lush pine garland, twinkling fairy lights, and white satin bows. A massive chandelier, glittering with thousands of tiny prisms, caught the setting sun and scattered a dancing circle of rainbows in what some might consider a promise of irresistible hope.
She tried to skirt the rainbows, but if she didn’t know better, she’d swear they sought her out, dancing across her white silk-and-lace costume and catching in her eyes. She hastened deeper into the hall where twin staircases curved upward to the second-floor ballroom, joining to form a perfect heart. It drew her forward, sparking an excitement that overrode her nervousness.
A reception line formed at the top of the steps, hosted by a tall, striking man and a gorgeous, dark-haired woman. They had to be the Beaumonts and, without question, they were the most simply garbed of all. He’d dressed in a black tux, while his wife wore a floor-length gold sheath. At their feet romped a three-year-old boy, his miniature tux rumpled and his flaming red bow tie askew. He grinned at her from beneath a mop of dark curls, his amber-tinted eyes glittering with unmistakable mischief.
She grinned back, relaxing for the first time in days. The line ground to a halt and she stooped to talk to him, shoving her feathered mask on top of her head. “Hey, there, buster.”
“My name isn’t Buster,” he informed her with a trace of scorn. “That’s my friend’s name. Buster and Chick. They’re my bestest buddies. I’m Donato. I got named after my grandpa.”
“It’s a lovely name,” Hanna assured gravely.
He reached out with a cautious hand and touched one of her feathers. “You look pretty. Whatcha being?”
It took an instant to understand his question. “Oh! I guess I’m a swan princess.”
“I seen that story. You have to be a swan until the prince says he loves you. Right?”
“I’m not sure,” she confessed. “I just liked the costume.”
How interesting that she’d made this particular character choice when she’d learned long ago not to indulge in the fantasy that went along with it. She’d trained since childhood to take care of herself and she’d put that training into practice for years now. No doubt, she’d continue to do so until the end of her days. Besides, she didn’t really need love. She was a strong, capable woman who didn’t require a man to make her life complete.
So what was she doing here? The cynical question flitted through the far recesses of her mind and her mouth curved in a self-mocking smile, acknowledging its validity. She knew what she’d been telling herself. She was searching for companionship. Someone to talk to, to share her day, and hold her close during the endless nights. Someone she could lo— Her hands closed into fists.
Someone she could relate to on an intellectual level, she quickly corrected. Nothing more.
She caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eyes. Glancing up she noticed a man standing in the shadows beyond the reception line. He was even more attractive than her host. Perhaps not quite as tall, but he had a lean, athletic build that appealed. She doubted the muscular strength evident beneath his black shirt came from the excessive weight lifting that sculpted Dix DuBerry’s body. Instead, it spoke of swift action and whipcord strength. A smile touched her mouth.
This man wouldn’t lumber gracelessly down a hallway.
He responded to her appraisal with a nod and, realizing she’d been staring, she looked swiftly away. What in the world had gotten into her? Okay, so his shoulders were deliciously broad, his eyes as appealing as a forbidden dollop of hot fudge, and his smile more enticing than any she’d ever seen.
He obviously wasn’t here to find a wife or he’d have worn a costume. That meant he was off-limits. Unable to resist, she glanced at him again. If she’d been a different type of woman, she’d have shielded the look with her lashes. Since she always confronted the various aspects of her life head-on, she refused to change because of this man.
He continued to stare, his scrutiny so unmistakable, her earlier nervousness returned in a rush. Did he recognize her? Had he read the article about her business acumen? Slipping her mask back in place, she switched her attention to the little boy.
“It’s been nice talking to you,” Hanna said.
“Did you come here to get married?”
“Maybe. I’d need to meet someone very special first.” Someone as special as the man standing behind the young boy.
“You gotta give your ticket to my Aunt Shayne.” He pointed to an attractive blonde at the end of the line. “They won’t let you in if you don’t give her a ticket.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
He stuck out his hand. “Wanna shake? I got taught how.”
“I sure do.” She took his hand in hers, impressed by his firm grasp. “Nice meeting you, Donato.”
The line had moved forward and Hanna straightened, turning to greet her hostess. “Hello.” She offered her hand for a second time. “Hanna Tyler.”
“Welcome. I’m Ella Beaumont
.” She glanced at the little boy crouched at her feet and smiled. “I see you’ve met my son.”
“He’s adorable.”
“Thank you.” Eyes identical to Donato’s reflected wry amusement. “We think so, but we’re a bit prejudiced.”
“Understandable.”
Ella touched her husband’s arm, drawing his attention. “Rafe, this is Hanna Tyler.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He inclined his head in a courtly manner and took her hand in his. “Good luck this evening. I hope you find someone very special.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
He indicated a slender blond woman at his side. “If you’ll give your ticket to my sister, Shayne, she’ll explain how the ball works.”
Hanna gave a final nod and turned toward Shayne. Huge, dark eyes regarded her with a friendly expression. “Welcome to the Cinderella Ball,” she said.
“Thank you. It’s a beautiful place.”
“Isn’t it? Perfect for such a romantic purpose.” She took Hanna’s ticket and dropped it into the velvet-lined basket she held. “The ground and ballroom levels are available to visitors. So feel free to explore anywhere on those two floors. The rest, I’m afraid, is off-limits. You’ll find a banquet available downstairs and the gardens are particularly pleasant this evening. They can be reached through the dining area.”
“And once I find someone?” Hanna hesitated, unable to assume the inevitability of finding a partner, despite the purpose of the evening. “If I find someone, what then?”
“The marriage ceremonies are conducted in the salons off the main ballroom. We offer a variety of services, and if you’ve any questions or problems during your stay, you’ll find footmen stationed in all the rooms. They’re wearing gold-and-white uniforms, so you can’t miss them.” Shayne’s smile came with a natural generosity Hanna found irresistible. “Be sure to have a wonderful evening. And good luck finding the perfect partner.”
