Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

by Kristen Proby

  “Full disclosure: I did not make this meal.”

  “Hmpf,” she said, mouth full of carrots.

  “I had G.R. flown in, and he cooked this meal for you.”

  She blinked at him. “For me?”

  A faint smile lifted his sexy mouth at the corners. “I couldn’t very well subject you to my cooking.”

  They ate in silence, mostly because she was hungry and didn’t actually want to talk to him, because she might say something stupid like stay with me forever. Then he would laugh at her and leave. Only why go to all the trouble?

  She grimaced, glancing up at him.

  His fork clattered to the table. “Is it the baby? Shall I take you to—”

  It hit her, then, right in the heart. Sebastian only wanted to check on the baby, not her. “The baby’s fine. You saw the ultrasound.”

  He visibly swallowed. “Thank you for sending me the picture, but it’s not enough. I want more. I want you and the baby with me every day.”

  She dropped her chin, her eyes widening. “You want what?”

  “I’m a miserable sod without you.” Sebastian got up from his chair, rounded the table, and knelt beside her, gently stroking the side of her face. “I miss you, Daisy.”

  “No, you don’t,” she whispered. “You didn’t speak to me all day.”

  All through the ceremony and reception, he’d been unable to take his eyes off her. When Daisy had finally sat down to enjoy the ceremony, her face luminous and her smile wistful, he’d stared for so long and hard that he’d nearly forgotten to give Christian the ring.

  “You had me all tongue-tied.” He smiled. “As a man in love would be in your presence.”

  “What about Kate and Romanov Industries?” she asked, shooting to her feet and stumbling back. Her face had turned pale and her hands trembled, as she fumbled for the bar stool behind her.

  Fear raced through him. All this way to see her and because he blurted out his feelings, she would fall and hurt herself. “Careful.”

  “I need to sit down again,” she said, her voice reedy thin.

  Standing, he crossed the small distance between them, scooped her up in his arms. He walked to the bed, then climbed on top of the mattress, and settled her against him, stealing a hand up the front of her cardigan to touch her belly. “There is no me and Kate, or even Romanov Industries. I wasn’t voted in as president and there were no conditions in the first place,” he said, silently cheering as her body relaxed against him. She had to believe him, or she’d still be stiff as a board. “I made the entire thing up so you’d be forced to leave me.”

  “What about the news on the website?” Her brows drew together. “It looked real when you gave me the iPad.”

  “Paid a bloke a lot of money to create it,” he confessed. “I didn’t think I deserved you, and for damn sure you didn’t deserve to put up with someone like me.”

  “But that was for me to decide, not you,” she said shakily. “How can I be sure you won’t do that to me again?”

  Again? Hope beat in his chest. “You can’t be sure. I can only promise not to, and you’ll have to decide if I’m worthy of your trust.”

  “Please, just stop saying all the right things.” Tears pricked her eyes and her lower lip trembled as she looked up at him. “You’re not being fair.”

  “Why is that, darling?”

  “Because my stupid pregnancy hormones want me to forgive you.”

  Hope beat in his chest. He lightly caressed her stomach. “Do your very smart pregnancy hormones want me to keep holding you like this?”

  Her head dropped back on his shoulder. “Yes.”

  He tipped her chin up and gently placed a kiss on her lush mouth. “To kiss you like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Forgive me, Daisy.” He kissed her again. “Decide I’m worthy of your trust, and I’ll hold and kiss you like this forever.”

  She blew out a shaky breath, the tip of one finger tracing the top of his hand. “I saw The Rectory … and the fainting couch the day you sent me away, or what was left of it.”

  His cheeks heated. “I was furious. My father had tainted the only place I’d thought was mine.”

  “I know, but you should have talked to me. You should have trusted and believed me, even after you decided to tear the place apart.” Her pretty hazel eyes fixed on him. “Why on Earth didn’t you trust me?”

  “I didn’t trust myself, not after listening to—it all boiled down to I loved you enough to let you go and find someone who was a billion times better than me. Someone different.”

  “Better than you?” Her body trembled, and his heart broke into pieces. “I never needed you to be different. I never wanted you to change. The man I fell in love with went to work with all the other world domination guys. Only my earl of world domination is a good guy where it counts. He just didn’t know it.”

  “Marry me, Daisy.” He pulled her ring out of his pocket and held it between them. “Be my countess. I’ll take you and the baby to every tourist trap, in every country in the world that doesn’t involve heights.”

  Laughing, she said, “I don’t want the world, Sebastian. You’re more than enough. I love you.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes!”

  He slid the ring on her finger and captured her lips with his, leaving him breathless when she finally broke their kiss. Cupping her face with his hands, he said, “So I bought this shop, called The Sweet Spot, and I need a manager. Know anyone?”

  “But the buyer was James Franklin,” she said.

  “Listed him as the contact on the contract. He’s the attorney who handles things stateside for me.”

  “You really bought my store? Anything else you’re keeping from me, Earl of Sneaky Things?”

  “I’m no longer in the running to be President of Romanov Industries. Ever. I gave it all up.”

  “You’re not?” Her eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

  He bit the side of his lip. “It means that I am completely at your service, until you no longer require me.”

  “So no world domination stuff anymore?” She actually looked a little let down, and he had to grin.

  “Only the majority shareholder now.”

  “But what will you do?”

  “I was thinking of a long holiday. Perhaps a trip around the world, with you.” He raised his brows. “But if you’re too busy, I—”

  “Can we start at Alnwick Castle?”

  “Any Harry Potter movie landmark you wish.” He kissed her nose. “Wherever, whenever, however. My time belongs to you.”

  “I love you, Sebastian Romanov.”

  He dipped his head and kissed her again, slowly, like they had all the time in the world to rediscover each other—which they did. He grinned at her. “And I love you.”

  Epilogue

  A baby’s cry woke Daisy out of a dead sleep. Before she could move, Sebastian joined her, their son cradled in his arms.

  “I changed his nappy. He’s better now,” he said. “Aren’t you, my fine lad?”

  Rhys Westmoreland Romanov, the future Earl of Spenserfield, and all of three months old, cooed at his dad. The baby was the spitting image of his father, right down to his pale blue eyes that showed no signs of changing colors. Her momma would have been proud, especially since they’d name Rhys after Daisy’s dad.

  She smiled at the two of them, her heart bursting with love.

  Rhys began to cry again.

  Sebastian gently bounced their son, but the baby wouldn’t stop fussing. “I think he’s hungry.”

  “I cannot wait for Rhys to meet his baby cousins and his Auntie Bella,” she said, taking the baby from his father. Rhys began to nurse as soon as she put him to her breast.

  Christian and his family, as well as Alexander and his, were due to arrive this afternoon, then Isabella was coming the day after that. Everyone was staying two weeks.

  Sebastian was outwardly tolerant while she was outwardly ec
static, yet she knew he was as happy as she. Slowly but surely, he and Christian were repairing the years of damage to their relationship. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were trying and that was what counted.

  Maybe being separated by an ocean helped when things got too tense between the brothers.

  Living in England hadn’t been the easiest decision to make, no matter how much she loved Sebastian. He would have lived in Holland Springs, if she’d asked him, but she hadn’t. She wanted to be free to travel and enjoy life without the responsibilities of running a business. So he’d taken her everywhere while she could travel, and when the time had come, they’d returned to Hawkfell Hall to live in the newly renovated groundskeeper cottage situated on the opposite side of the lake, away from the hustle and bustle of the Hall, and set to making it the home of their dreams.

  She was as happy and content as the baby in her arms. Kissing his sweet little head, she murmured nonsense words at him.

  “Lucky,” Sebastian murmured, stroking the baby’s cheek, and then he turned his attention to her. “Are you happy here?”

  He asked her that at least once a day, always worried she’d given up too much to be with him, but she hadn’t given up anything. In her mind, she’d gained the world.

  “Very.” She leaned against him as he settled down beside her in bed. “You?”

  “Sitting in this very bed, in this very house, with you and our child, was number three on my new and improved bucket list.”

  New and improved bucket list? “What was number one and two?”

  Placing a knee on the side of the bed, he cupped her face and gazed into her eyes. “Win back the woman I love and convince her to marry me.”

  If she hadn’t been sitting in bed, she would have swooned. “And number four?”

  Kissing the tip of her nose, he grinned. “Who needs a number four?”

  “You’re really happy, then?”

  “I’m beyond happy.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m ecstatic.”

  She giggled.

  “Gobsmacked.” He kissed her cheek.

  She rolled her eyes playfully.

  He kissed her lips. “Blessed.”

  Her heart turned over in her chest. “We both are,” she said, and then she kissed him back with all the love and hope she felt for their future.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading JUST DESSERTS! Ready for another Billionaire? Then you will love NOT OVER YOU, available now!

  They say money can’t buy him happiness… but what if it can buy hers?

  Gabriel Edwards is done rescuing his childhood sweetheart—seeing as that’s all she’s ever wanted from him. The woman he’s with now is far more appropriate, and doesn’t need an eternal knight in shining armor.

  Summer Edwards would choose this moment to try and scheme his ring onto her finger.

  She says she needs him, and no one else will do.

  And just one kiss changes everything.

  The feelings they share might be bigger than anyone’s plans.

  ONE CLICK NOT OVER YOU NOW >

  Turn the page to read the dangerous and haunting PENNIES by Pepper Winters, a dark romance about a woman who suffers in silence and the only man ruthless enough to take her…

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  PENNIES

  Pepper Winters

  “I’m not the hero in this story, girl. You’d do best to remember that.”

  Once upon a time, I was an eighteen year old psychology student.

  Now, I’m a man’s property.

  Stolen and sold, I’ve been decorated in bruises since the day my world changed two years ago.

  I suffer in silence, I crave freedom, but I never break.

  I can’t.

  Until he arrives.

  Elder Prest, the only man to look at me and see me. The only man more ruthless than my owner.

  He wants me for reasons I don’t understand.

  He claims me for one night then leaves and never looks back.

  Until he returns.

  And life becomes much more complicated.

  Prologue

  Tasmin

  Freedom.

  Such a modest word.

  It carried very little importance for those who had it. But for those who didn’t, it was the most precious, prized, and promised hope of all.

  I supposed I was lucky to know what freedom felt like.

  For eighteen years, I’d been free. Free to learn what I wanted, befriend who I liked, and flirt with boys who passed my rigorous criteria.

  I was a simple girl with ideals and dreams, encouraged by society to believe nothing could hurt me, that I should strive for an excellent career, and no one could stop me. Rules would keep me safe, police would keep the monsters away, and I could remain innocent and naïve to the darkness of the world.

  Freedom.

  I had it.

  But then, I lost it.

  Murdered, resuscitated, and sold.

  I lost my freedom for so many years.

  Until the day he entered my cage.

  Him, with the black eyes and blacker soul.

  The man who challenged my owner.

  And set my imprisonment on an entirely different path.

  Chapter One

  Tasmin

  Dear Diary,

  No, that didn’t sound right. Far too light-hearted for my tale.

  Dear Universe,

  Scratch that. Too grandiose.

  To The Person Reading This.

  Too vague.

  To The Person I Wish Would Help Me.

  That would get me in trouble. And I refused to sound weak. Not if these words were the only thing a stranger would remember me by.

  To…

  Tapping the broken pencil against my temple, I did my best to focus. For weeks, I’d been confined like a zoo animal being acclimatised to its new cage. I’d been fed, washed, and given medical attention from my rough arrival. I had a bed with sheets, a flushing toilet, and shampoo in the shower. I had the basics that all human and nonhuman life required.

  But I wasn’t living.

  I was dying.

  They just couldn’t see it.

  Wait…I know.

  Inspiration struck as I came up with the perfect name to address this sad letter to. The title was the only right in this wrong, wrong new world.

  To No One.

  The moment I pressed those three words onto my parchment, I couldn’t stop the memories unfolding. My left hand shook as I kept the toilet tissue flat while my right flew, slowly transcribing my past.

  I was eighteen when I died.

  I remember that day better than any other in my short life. And I know you’re rolling your eyes, saying it only happened three weeks ago, but believe me, I will never forget it. I know some people say certain events imprint on their psyche forever, and up until now, I haven’t had anything stick in such a way. You see, No One, I guess you could’ve called me a brat. Some might even say I deserve this. No, that’s a lie. No one would wish this on their worst enemy. But the fact remains, only you know I’m not dead. I’m alive and in this cell about to be sold. I’ve been hurt, touched, violated in every sense but rape, and stripped of everything I used to be.

  But to my mother? I’m dead. I died. Who knows if she’ll ever truly find out what happened to me.

  The scribbling of my pencil stopped. I sucked in a ragged breath, trembling hard as I relived what I’d been through.

  My will to stay breathing had vanished. It’d taken them a while to break me, but they had. And now that they’d achieved their goal, I was nothing more than cargo waiting for the transaction to line their pockets.

  For days, all I’d had for entertainment were my chaotic thoughts, awful memories, and overwhelming panic of what lay ahead. But that was before I found the chewed up, snapped in half pencil beneath the bed.

&n
bsp; The find had been better than food or freedom; better because my traffickers minutely controlled both those things. I had no power to sway the regimented arrival of breakfast and dinner nor the ability to halt the fact I was being sold like meat to the highest bidder.

  I had no control over being alone in a tiny room that had once been a hotel suite before its premises were bought for more unsavoury stays. The towels were threadbare with the sigil of some decade-ago establishment, and the carpet swirled with golds and bronze, hinting the décor hadn’t been updated since the seventies.

  Was that how long the pencil had lurked beneath my bed? Were the bite marks on the wood given by a rowdy toddler waiting for its parents to stop fussing so they could explore a new city? Or had a maid lost it while tucking starched white sheets with military precision?

  I’d never know.

  But I liked to make up fantasies because I had nothing else to do. I spent my achingly boring days going over every nook and cranny of my jail. They’d broken my spirit, washed away my fight, but they couldn’t stop the determined urge inside me. The instinct everyone had—or at least, I thought everyone had.

  I’d been alone for so long now I didn’t know what the other girls processed with me would do. Did they lie star-spread on the bed and wait for their future? Did they huddle in the corner and beg for their fathers to stop this nightmare? Or did they accept, because it was easier to accept than to fight?

  Me? I ran my rubbed-raw fingertips over every wall, every crack, every painted and locked window frame. I crawled on my hands and knees, searching for something to help me. And by helping me, I didn’t know if I meant as a weapon to fight my way out or something to end my struggle before it truly began.

  It’d taken me days to go over every square inch. But all I’d found was this half-mangled pencil. A gift. A treasure. The nub was almost down to the wood, and I wouldn’t have long before I had to find a way to sharpen my precious possession, but I’d worry about that another day. Just like I’d become a master at shoving aside my worries about everything else.