Pretty Broken Promises: An Unconventional Love Story

by Jeana E. Mann

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  EPILOGUE

  Before You Go

  Your opinion counts!

  Books on Amazon

  Copyright

  Author Biography

  SPECIAL OFFER

  PRETTY BROKEN PROMISES

  Jeana E. Mann

  Keep love in your heart.

  A life without it is like a sunless garden

  when the flowers are dead.

  —Oscar Wilde

  PROLOGUE

  SAM

  THE PARCEL arrived by courier before breakfast. One look at the plain brown wrapper sent adrenalin racing through my veins. Dakota turned the package, no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, in her hands then dropped it in front of her like she’d been burned. Our eyes met across the table, over plates of fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and toast. A tiny bouquet of wildflowers sat in a glass between us.

  Today was our six-month wedding anniversary. We’d decided to celebrate by taking a day off from work, lounging around the house in our pajamas, watching old movies, and having random sex on all the flat and horizontal surfaces in the house. But the arrival of this unwelcome delivery soured the coffee in my mouth. I choked it down and replaced the cup on its saucer.

  Anxiety sucked the noise from the room until the only sound was Dakota’s shallow breathing and the thud of my pulse in my ears.

  “What do you think it is?” She poked the small rectangle with her fork.

  “I have no idea.” I balanced the box on my palm. It weighed less than a pound, I guessed. When I held it to my ear and shook it, nothing moved inside. I set it on the table between us.

  “Do you think it’s from him?” She forked it again, flinching as if she expected it to leap from the table.

  “Stop already.” I took the utensil out of her hand and placed it beside my plate.

  The first parcel had arrived on our wedding day. An ostentatious necklace fashioned from glittering diamonds and cool sapphires, a gift fit for a queen. The note tucked inside the velvet box bore a message penned in my father’s neat hand. “Something borrowed, something blue,” it had said. Innocent words by themselves, but coming from my father, I recognized it for the threat it was meant to be. It was his way of staying in our thoughts, of ruining the happiness we’d managed to string together in spite of his interference.

  “Don’t open it.” The panic in Dakota’s voice brought my gaze back to hers. She placed a hand over mine to prevent me from doing just that. “Let’s send it back.” Her smile faltered the tiniest bit. “No reaction is the best reaction, right? If we don’t play his games, he’ll get bored and find someone else.”

  “Right,” I said. Maxwell Seaforth never did anything without purpose, and he never gave up. I might have turned my back on his game, but I knew him well enough to understand that the game continued on, in perpetuity, until one of us won or died in the process, with Dakota as the ultimate prize.

  “The difference between a Seaforth and the rest of the world,” he’d told me when I’d lost my first baseball game at the tender age of eight, “is that Seaforths don’t lose. My son doesn’t lose.” He had taken my chin between his thumb and index finger to tilt my head up, staring me down with icy green eyes. “If you lose again, I won’t love you. Understand?”

  I’d taken those words to heart and had made it my mission in life to succeed.

  “Forget about him.” I tossed the box aside and gave Dakota a grin, eager to assuage her anxieties. She bit her lower lip, assessing my sincerity. God, she was sexy. How did I ever get so lucky? “Come here.”

  “No. I’ll have Layla take care of it when I get to the office.” The dark slashes of her eyebrows drew together over the bridge of her pert nose. “I’m not moving until you promise.”

  “Promise what?” I closed my fingers over her hand, intending to draw her around the table and into my lap.

  She jerked her hand back and tilted her head to the side. “You’ll let this go. We’ll send the package back. And you won’t confront him.” Clear aquamarine eyes narrowed in warning from between the long, lacy fringes of her lashes. “Promise me, Sam.”

  “Fine. I promise.” In truth, I’d already lost track of the conversation, captivated by the way her robe fell open to reveal the twin slopes of her breasts. No matter how many times I had her, it was never enough. “Now, let’s go back to bed, wife.”

  Chapter 1

  SAM

  DAKOTA PERCHED on the edge of the bathtub, holding the pregnancy test in front of her, eyes wide and fingers trembling. Drip. A droplet of water plopped into the sink. The sound reverberated off the stark white tile and swirled around the small bathroom like a gunshot. Drip. I jiggled the spigot and put an end to the infernal leak. Tomorrow, I’d call the apartment manager and get someone up to fix it, but today—right now—all I could do was stare at the plastic stick in my wife’s hand. Never had such a small, insignificant piece of plastic held so much power over my future.

  A lock of brown hair had escaped the messy bun on top of Dakota’s head. I brushed the strand behind her ear, letting the pad of my thumb caress the creamy skin of her cheek. She smiled up at me, eyes soft as the Mediterranean Sea. Damn, I loved her this way, wearing one of my oversized T-shirts and nothing underneath but a pair of white cotton panties, her lips still swollen from our early morning sex marathon.

  “You look scared out of your mind.” I pried the stick out of her white-knuckled grip, set it on the edge of the sink then drew her onto my lap.

  “I’m not scared. I’m terrified,” she whispered. I buried the tip of my nose in her hair and savored the strawberry scent of her shampoo. “This is huge, Sam.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll be fine. Either way,” I drew my arms around her waist, pulling her against my chest. The weight and warmth of her body reminded me of all the reasons we were meant to be together. We fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, different but interlocking, one incomplete without the other.

  “I’m not ready for this. We’re not ready. It’s not the right time.” The back of her head rested on my shoulder. She watched me through the lacy screen of her lashes. “We’re just getting the new company up and running. You’ve still got financial challenges to work through. I need to hire a dozen more employees. We’re both putting in sixteen-hour days. When will we find time to raise a baby?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume with each word.

  “It’ll be fine. I promise.” I kissed the top of her ear and tightened my grip on her. The roundness of her bottom fit against my groin with maddening perfection. I pushed against her. My cock began to thi
cken behind the thin cotton of my pajamas. No matter how many times we had sex, it never seemed like enough. The constant craving to claim her grew greater with each passing day. Hence the pregnancy test.

  “Said the guy who spends every spare minute in the office. You won’t be able to do that when we’ve got a kid.”

  “We’ll hire a nanny. Two, if we need them.” I worried the tip of her earlobe between my teeth. The idea of my baby in her belly sent a surge of hot desire into my loins.

  “No. No nannies.” She wriggled in protest. I trapped her legs between mine to hold her still, rewarded by her squeak. Power play had always been the highlight of our relationship. “You said you hated growing up with nannies.”

  “True. Okay. You can stay home and be a full-time mom.” I loosened my grip to trail my lips down her neck.

  She relaxed her body and slipped through my arms to stand in front of the sink. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to stay at home? Maybe I want to keep working? Did you ever think about that?” She put both hands on her hips and glared at me. “I’ve gone through too much to throw away my career.”

  “Then I’ll stay home and be Mr. Mom.”

  “Like that would ever happen.” She rolled her eyes, but I saw the glint of humor in their depths. “You’re too much of a control freak. You’d last about an hour.”

  I made an ineffectual grab for her. “We don’t have to give anything up. That’s the beauty of owning the company. We can set our own hours.” She backed up a step and cocked her head. I blundered on. “If Venetia can manage, you will, too.”

  “Venetia has Beckett.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth at the mention of my youngest sister and her boyfriend, who’d just had their first child. “He’s home every night.”

  A warning sparked in my gut. An argument lurked around the corner. Work had always been a priority in my life. We’d hardly seen each other at all over the past four months. Dakota understood, or at least I thought she did. Now, I wasn’t so certain. I pushed past her jab and focused on the immediate situation. “We’ll start a daycare at work. I’ll put Xavier on it.” In all honesty, I hadn’t thought about the logistics of child care, but it seemed like a small detail. “We’ll do this together.”

  “Really?” One of her eyebrows arched. “You’ll have to be here to participate.” She pointed to the floor. “On this continent.”

  I brushed a hand over my face and exhaled. Since our marriage, I’d made frequent trips oversees and to New York. My diligence had paid off, however. I’d managed to acquire enough funds to finance our new company. In another six months, I’d have those loans paid off in full. Now more than ever, I needed to be at the top of my game. One slip, one lapse, could stop the momentum. On the other hand, nothing mattered more than Dakota and our child. Concessions would have to be made.

  “You knew I’d be traveling a lot until we got the company off the ground. We both agreed it was necessary, and you said you were fine with it.” Having been married to Dakota once before, I knew better than to take this high-handed line of approach, but being an arrogant male, I did it anyway.

  She didn’t back down. “A baby changes everything.” Every time she challenged me, I loved her even more. “I’m not sure you’re up for it. You have no idea how much time a child will take.”

  “I’ll make time,” I made another grab for her hand, successful this time. With a sigh of playful resignation, she resumed her seat in my lap. In this moment, I couldn’t have been more contented. We were going to be a family—my family—mine.

  “You say that now, but—”

  The timer on my phone buzzed. We both jumped. My heart pounded as she gingerly lifted the stick and studied the outcome.

  Chapter 2

  DAKOTA

  THE WALLS of the bathroom moved closer together until I couldn’t breathe. I handed the pregnancy test to Sam and fled to the living room, one palm pressed against the ache in my chest. I stared out the window at the blue May sky. His whoop confirmed the results. We were going to have a baby. Shouldn’t I be happier about it? I used to daydream of having Sam’s child, but the thought hadn’t entered my mind at all since we’d tied the knot. I’d been too busy. We were in the middle of launching a new company, Ascension Corporation. Sam had leveraged every penny in our accounts to cover start-up costs and borrowed money from some heavy hitters in the business world. Our first big acquisition was underway, scheduled to close in a few days. I had no time for morning sickness or any of the things that went along with motherhood.

  “Look at me.” Sam’s deep voice buzzed in my ear. My skin sizzled, the way it always did when he was near. I studied the miniature people walking on the street below our apartment, afraid he’d see my doubts. “Kota.”

  Whenever he said my name in that demanding tone of his, my knees and resolve melted. I turned to face him. Green eyes blazed down at me. Early morning sunlight illuminated the dusting of gold hair on his bare chest and the six-pack of his abdomen above the drawstring of his pajama pants. Even with a crazy work schedule, he managed to fit in a daily gym session, and it showed on his taut physique. I bit my lower lip, overwhelmed by his maleness and my good fortune to have such a perfect specimen as my husband.

  “What?” I asked, and trained my attention on the hollow of his throat.

  “Talk.” With my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tipped my head toward him.

  “I’m pregnant. There isn’t much more to say.” Speaking the words aloud brought the sting of tears to my eyes. Not bad tears, just emotional, confused, and fearful.

  “Don’t shut down, baby.” It was the same tone of voice he used to address his employees; stern and implacable. I stared back at him, barely holding my composure together. The hard line of his jaw softened. I scratched my fingers through the plush stubble then cradled his cheeks between my palms. His lips curved into a smile, and the tension between my shoulders eased.

  “I’m not shutting down.” I sighed. “I’m in shock. Aren’t you? Doesn’t this scare you at all?” It was difficult to imagine anything frightening Sam.

  “Absolutely. I’m freaking terrified.” One of his arms stole around my waist. The rumble of his baritone vibrated against my ribcage. “But mostly thrilled.”

  The clean scent of his body wash wafted up to my nose. I snuggled into his embrace and rested my cheek against his hard chest. “You told me once that you wanted a dozen kids.”

  “I do.” His breath puffed against the top of my head. “I want your kids. Your babies. I want to wake up every morning to a house full of screaming, playful rugrats.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to manage one kid, let alone a house full.” I struggled against the tight grasp of his arms. The touch of his mouth to the curve of my neck tightened my nipples into painful points, and I willingly gave up the struggle.

  “We’ll manage.” One of his hands found my breast and cupped it through the soft cotton of the T-shirt. His thumb brushed over the hard nub. “If I had my way, you’d be pregnant and barefoot for the rest of our lives.”

  “Oh, really?” Despite my misgivings, I had to grin. The notion stirred up my girlish fantasies. A picture of cherubic blond toddlers danced through my head. Baby Samuels. I gazed into his eyes. Heat and desire blazed in their depths. A kaleidoscope of emerald, gold, and sapphire flecks stared back at me. Long fingers tightened their grip on my hip.

  “Yes.” Sam’s teeth latched onto my skin in a gentle but unquestioning show of male dominance. I shivered and pressed into him, needing more. “There’s nothing I want more than to hold my own child. Our child. Our flesh and blood.” I lifted an arm and threaded my fingers into his hair. The silky blond locks caressed my skin. His lips nibbled my shoulder. “Take off those panties, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”

  Strong arms swept my feet off the floor. I toyed with the hair on his chest as he carried me back to the bed. He dumped me onto the mattress. I scrambled backward toward the hea
dboard, and he followed on hands and knees. Slowly. Like a predator. I never knew what to expect from him. One minute, he was gentle, demanding and relentless the next. Today, he held himself over my body, forearms braced, biceps straining, all hard, dominating male. My body hummed with anticipation.

  From far away, Sam’s phone buzzed. We groaned in tandem.

  “No. Stay here. It can wait,” I whispered in his ear. He ground his erection into the V of my thighs. I opened my legs further. My phone joined his in a sadistic attempt to ruin our fun. I cupped his face between my palms. “Whoever it is will call back.”

  They did. Two minutes later.

  Sam groaned and rolled off me to look at his caller ID. “It’s Xavier.”

  “Doesn’t that guy ever sleep?” I grumbled.

  “I don’t pay him to sleep,” Sam said. Before I could protest again, he answered. “This better be good.” He shoved a hand through his sun-streaked hair and began to pace the length of our bedroom. “I’m in the middle of something here.” Our eyes met, and a bevy of butterflies unfurled in my belly. The waistband of his pajamas hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing the deep cut of muscle on each side, and did nothing to hide the length of his erection straining against the cotton. I made a grab for the drawstring. His even, white teeth bit into the full flesh of his lower lip, and the corners of his mouth curled upward in a sexy smile. Strong fingers wrapped around mine before I could do any damage. “I don’t care what you tell them. Make it happen.” He cupped a hand over the phone. “Sorry, baby.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered and sank back against the pillow. We usually went into the office by seven. Even though we worked together, quality time alone was at a premium. This morning had been a rare occurrence when both of our schedules had allowed a later start. We just wanted a few minutes alone together before he left for New York City then Tokyo.

  My phone began to ring again. One glance showed a half dozen missed texts from my assistant, Layla. “What?” I snapped into the phone, more tersely than I intended. Sam’s authoritative manner was wearing off on me. He gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze then sauntered toward the kitchen to start the coffee.