A Siren Adult Fairy Tale
Beau and the Lady Beast
Indecent proposal, or merely business?
Isadora MacLean gave up on a personal life after a disastrous and costly early marriage. She worked hard to build her company, earning the nickname Lady Beast. No one crosses her. So she’s totally unprepared for Beau Brannigan’s offer: He’ll return shares in her company in exchange for a weekend spent as his ‘hostage.’
Dubbed The Most Beautiful Man in advertising, Beau Brannigan can have any woman he chooses, but the only one he wants seems out of reach. When shares of her company unexpectedly come into his hands, he knows he’s found the key to lure Isadora to his country estate, certain that once he has her, he can win her heart.
Sexy as sin and twice as tempting, can this much younger man unlock the heart of the Lady Beast?
Sensuality Rating: SCORCHING
Genre: Erotic Contemporary May-December Fairy Tale / BDSM
BEAU AND THE LADY BEAST
A Siren Adult Fairy Tale
Morgan Ashbury
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
BEAU AND THE LADY BEAST
Copyright © 2007 by Morgan Ashbury
ISBN: 1-933563-03-6-A2
First Printing 2007
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2007 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Printed in the U.S.A.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Dedication
To my critique partner Raina Toomey. Damn, girl, you’re good.
Morgan Ashbury
BEAU AND THE LADY BEAST
A Siren Adult Fairy Tale
MORGAN ASHBURY
Copyright © 2007
Chapter 1
“You want me to what?”
Beau Brannigan took a moment to appreciate the sight of Isadora MacLean in full temper. Living up to her reputation for having a beastly disposition, she’d surged to her feet, her breath heaving in a way that showcased her lovely silk-covered breasts.
Her scowl told him she’d noticed him ogling her chest. He flashed her a grin and answered, “Become my hostage for the next three days. It’s a small enough price to pay for fifteen percent of your company. Let’s see…going with the most conservative estimates, fifteen percent of twenty million dollars is three million. Divide that by seventy-two hours, and that’s damn near forty-two thousand dollars an hour.”
“That’s absurd!”
Beau watched the shock wash through her and waited while she slowly lowered herself onto her chair. He wasn’t going to point out this deal could effectively make her the most expensive courtesan of all time.
She’d certainly looked stunned when he revealed he’d purchased the stocks from one of her largest single shareholders. He understood the step she’d taken more than a decade before with her ISO had been, in her mind, a necessary evil. He also knew that ever since, she’d been buying up shares when they became available. Some had referred to the process as the Lady Beast’s Holy Grail. The fifteen percent he’d just waved under her nose represented one hell of a big chunk of her company. Vital to her and valuable to him only because it gave him what he’d craved for the last year—the chance to get his hands on Isadora. It didn’t matter, her being a dozen years older than he. He wanted her, and by damn, he was going to have her.
“Are you out of your mind? You want me to give you seventy-two hours of my time? To do what?”
“It isn’t your time so much I want. It’s you. And to do, Isadora, whatever it is I tell you to do.”
Beau’s plan was risky, that was certain. He understood her well enough to know she’d be suspicious of any overt attempt on his part to court her. Better to keep her off balance by way of an indecent proposal. When she was in his home, when he’d spent some time with her, would be soon enough to reveal his heart. He smiled. Sliding forward slightly on his chair, he put his elbows on her desk.
“Tomorrow at noon, my car and driver will arrive at your home. You’ll be driven to my country estate, about an hour outside of town. Once inside the gates of my property, you will become a voluntary hostage, completely subservient to my every whim. Oh, and you don’t need to pack a bag.”
“You want me to come to your home in the country for the weekend and not pack anything? Not bring a change of clothes? That’s totally ridiculous. You’re not making any sense at all.”
“Of course I am. If I require you to wear any clothes while you’re my guest, I’ll provide them.”
He could tell by the look on her face she finally understood what he wanted.
“You…me…you…if I wear clothes? You want me to be naked?”
“In my experience, having sex is easier if the parties involved are naked.”
“Sex. You and me. Are you crazy? You think I’m going to have sex with you?”
“In exchange for fifteen percent of your company? Yes, I think you will. You look a little piqued, darling. Why don’t I make you some tea?”
She was, he mused, a woman who obviously liked to have her creature comforts at her fingertips. A tiny service area took up one corner of her office. Beau blessed all those years spent in front of a camera when he’d been dubbed the most beautiful man alive. The skills he’d acquired then allowed him to affect a relaxed pose. She wouldn’t see his nerves. He could hear the sound of her sputtering, but not her actual words.
Using the hot water dispenser, it took only moments to make a cup of tea and set it before her. He resumed his seat, and his bravado.
“You want me to sell my body to you in exchange for those stocks. You want to turn me into a…a…whore? Are you out of your ever-loving mind?”
Her choler captivated him. Red slashes of fury decorated her cheeks and icy darts shot from her electric blue eyes. Her voice rivaled the thunder and he wondered her assistant hadn’t come running in response. She was, quite simply, the most stunning creature he had ever seen. He could admit that, and the fact that he likely needed therapy.
“Don’t look at it that way. It’s not my intention to make you feel like a whore.”
“Then I don’t understand. Is this…some sort of payback, or something? Did I do something to piss you off? Seizing the opportunity to cage the Lady Beast and humiliate her? Humiliate me?”
“Is it so hard for you to understand that I simply want you? You’re a beautiful woman. This has nothing to do with payback or humiliation, and everything to do with pleasure. You’re not currently in a relationship, are you?”
“No.”
“Then there really is no reason why you can’t give yourself to me for the weekend, is there?”
“You can’t be serious. You’re going to…to…for seventy-two hours?”
Beau chuckled. Her temper had cooled as quickly as it had fire. Now, her face had gone pale, and she seemed to be having trouble putting sentences together. Her eyes had dilated and her nipples hardened. Two signs, he hoped, of arousal and not just extreme shock. He wanted to hug her and assure her all would be well, but he needed to maintain the role of roué. “I may allow you some time to eat. To sleep. Shall we make a small contract, just between the two of us? You have
a printer here, which is handy. Two copies, and we’ll both sign them. From noon tomorrow until noon Monday, you will be a willing hostage to my every whim. I’ll absolutely guarantee your safety, but not necessarily your comfort. In return, upon completion of your, shall we say, ‘personal service’, I will sign over to you the stock in MacLean Cosmetics I’ve so recently purchased. Or you can say no, and I keep the stock. I’m sure you’re aware fifteen percent is enough of a base for a canny manipulator to engineer a hostile takeover. I can be exceedingly canny, when the situation calls for it. The choice is entirely up to you.”
In all the rumors about Isadora he’d heard, there’d been no talk of a personal life. She lived, slept, and breathed her company. She’d earned the nickname Lady Beast of Bond Street because her office was her lair from which she guarded her empire ruthlessly. Beau believed that the tough exterior of the Lady Beast hid a warm and compassionate woman, and if he had her to himself, even if just for three days, he could set that woman free.
But he had to get his hands on her first.
Beau tramped down the arousal that began to grow when she licked her dry lips. He noted the fine quiver in her hand when she picked up her tea and sipped.
“I’ve never…what you’re asking is that I give up all control. I’ve never not been in control. Never thought I would ever be.”
“Nervous?”
“Very.”
“Good. I can offer you a safe word. We could include in the contract between us that I won’t hurt you. But then, once you’re my hostage, I can do what I like, can’t I? You’ll just have to trust me. If you say yes.” He sat back and let his eyes roam her body, much like he planned to let his hands roam as soon as he had her under his roof. “Can you do that? Can you trust me, put yourself into my hands? Do you accept my proposal?”
He watched the emotions play over her face and felt his heart surge in triumph when he saw her answer before she spoke it.
“Yes. I, ah, accept.”
“Let’s get it written up then, darling. One copy for me, and one you can place wherever you like, for safekeeping.”
* * * *
Isadora hadn’t expected a chauffeur-driven limousine. Settling herself into the back seat, cut off from the driver by a glass partition, she wondered if she had finally lost her mind. The moment the chauffeur closed the car door, she began to tremble. She wasn’t certain if she felt terrified, furious, or excited.
The bizarre agreement had been written up, signed, and a copy locked in her desk drawer before she’d allowed herself time to reconsider. Now, of course, it was a matter of honor.
She was stunned that Beau Brannigan could really want her. Black hair and green eyes, with the kind of sinfully sexy good looks that had sold millions of dollars of whatever merchandise he’d been hired to model, Beau could easily have any woman at all. She recalled the first time she’d set eyes on him, in person. He had absolutely taken her breath away, and when he’d smiled at her, she’d felt the clutch of sexual attraction deep in her belly. The arousal had shamed her, even as it had intrigued, for he was nearly a dozen years younger than she. She’d done her best to ignore the sizzle, but as the months passed, and she came to know him, she wondered about the sense of connection she felt, and wondered if it was reciprocated. If it could be reciprocated. Then she’d remember the years between them. She’d very nearly convinced herself that her attraction and growing feelings for him were completely inappropriate.
Truthfully, her sex life had been nothing to brag about. She understood—intellectually, at least—that part of the reason for that was how badly her one and only waltz down the matrimonial aisle had burned her. It might be unfair to paint every man she’d dated with the same brush as Neil MacLean. But that was life.
Her cell phone rang, pulling her out of her memories.
“Yes?”
“Tyler here, Isadora. Just stopped by the office to see you and your assistant said you were going away for the weekend.”
Disbelief laced the voice of oldest friend and lawyer, Tyler Parkinson.
“What, I can’t take a weekend off?” Isadora smiled, looking out the window of the limo at the passing scenery.
“Well, you haven’t for a long time, Dory.”
“I’m entitled to have a life after all these years of hard work and no play. But then, I believe I already mentioned my intention to change things.” She couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice, and could easily picture her old friend’s scowl.
“Please don’t remind me. It was that sentiment that led to your completely irrational and foolhardy decision which had me tromping all over the city earlier this week.”
“You’re a good friend, and a good lawyer, Tyler. Thank you for doing what I asked you to do, even when you didn’t agree with it.”
“That little piece of business made me feel like neither. I really don’t think you covered your ass very well. Have you had any response yet?”
Tyler sounded so aggrieved, she wanted to laugh. If only he knew.
“Some,” she wanted to change the subject before he got too curious. “Was there something in particular you needed to see me about?”
“No, just wanted to drop off copies of the injunction I filed on your behalf yesterday.”
“No problems?” she asked. The small matter of an unfaithful employee had prompted her to get Tyler working on another front.
“No. All straight forward. Theft is theft. I left the copies of the court papers with Charlene.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Trevor.”
“You’re welcome. So, where are you going for the weekend?”
Looking around, she could see only trees and fields. “The country,” she replied.
“You? In the country? What the hell are you going to do there?”
“I think I’m going to get my feet wet. I’ll see you next week, Tyler.”
Not giving him a chance to respond, she hung up. Then, considering, she turned off the phone before she tossed it back in her purse.
Sitting back, she let her mind travel over her meeting with Beau, and her current situation. Something he had said—or intimated—flooded her thoughts. He wanted her completely under his command. Control wasn’t something she’d surrendered to any man, ever.
She wondered what he was going to do when she declined to surrender it to him.
Chapter 2
Isadora perked up when the car paused at the entrance to a gated country lane. The gate swung open slowly, and she had to suppress a nervous laugh. The car eased through, and she turned, the sight of the gates swinging closed again knotting her stomach. Trees canopied the long and winding lane. The brush was so thick on either side, she could see nothing beyond a few feet. Then the lane curved sharply to the left. Before her, a stone-and-glass building, immense, seemed to stretch to the sky.
Far from the ‘country home’ of a well-to-do corporate executive she’d imagined, this was more like a magical castle from the heart of a fairy tale. It lacked only a moat. Then the car stopped, and the driver opened her door. Thirteen steps led up to the massive wooden door. Ascending, she counted them and chided herself for being foolish. Beau Brannigan was a flesh-and-blood twenty-first century man, not some spellbound recluse from the pages of a fairy tale. Despite his choice of words, she would certainly be no hostage, voluntary or otherwise, but a businesswoman visiting an associate for a weekend in the country, to cement a business deal. There, that felt a lot more calming and reassuring.
It was an illusion she held onto until the door opened.
* * * *
Beau hadn’t been entirely certain she would come. Until the moment when he knew the limousine had driven onto his land, he’d hoped, but hadn’t been sure.
He opened the door abruptly, catching her off guard, and watched with admiration while she got herself under control.
“Isadora. I’ve waited a long time to have you in my home. Please, come in.”
“Your home is unexpected,” she said,
turning her head this way and that to look around.
Beau smiled when she faced him.
“The expected would be boring, wouldn’t it? Actually, this is a forty-room reconstructed castle. My grandfather, who had more money and whimsy than sense, brought it over, stone by stone, from England several decades ago.”
“That must have cost a fortune and been logistically complicated.”
Beau laughed out loud and then impulsively hugged her. It didn’t matter that she was a bit stiff in his arms. He needed the contact right then and there.
“Grandfather didn’t care. If he set his mind to something he wanted, he let nothing—certainly nothing inconsequential like cost or logic—get in his way. In this, my pet, I take after him.”
“I’m not your pet, Beau.”
He’d anticipated that response. “My darling, this weekend, and starting right now, you’re whatever I choose to make you.”
He cupped her face, caressed her lip with his thumb. His heart beat just a bit faster when he saw her eyes widen, when he understood that, just so simply, he’d aroused her. Carefully, he dipped his free hand into his pocket to take out his first surprise. In an instant, he had it secured exactly where he wanted it. Quick, unforeseen, and over before Isadora could even have guessed what he intended.
He watched her reach up, her fingers touching the jewel-encrusted leather collar now encircling her neck.
From his other pocket, he withdrew a leash. One quick flick attached it to the collar.
“See? You wear my collar and my leash. So you must be my pet. Ah, ah,” he added when mutiny clouded her face, “you did agree. My every whim. Considering the liberties I’m about to take with your lovely body, a collar and leash are small things.”
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