by Jane Henry
Once upon a time….
Sawyer:
They call me “The Beast” for a reason. Locked away in my cold, dark mansion overlooking the treacherous cliffs that haunt me, I want for nothing...except her. The moment she set foot in my lair, her fate was sealed. I will claim her, make her mine…
I’ll be her daddy.
Annabelle:
He can buy anything he wants. He wants me.
He’s a wealthy, domineering recluse; I’m dirt poor. He’s accomplished and sophisticated; I’m a twenty-year-old virgin. But I can’t say no.To get closer to him, I will sacrifice everything -- my freedom, my heart...my innocence. The attraction between us leaves me begging, and when he’s done with me…
I’ll be daddy’s good little girl.
Beauty’s Daddy is a full-length, standalone Daddy Dom/virgin novel, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast with mild BDSM themes and a guaranteed happily ever after.
Chapter One
Annabelle
Icy rain whipped my face and hands as I bolted down the length of Main Street. My mind a million other places, I turned the corner and crashed straight into the hugest, most arrogant, pissed-off man I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Jesus!” he roared, lifting the cup up to try to avoid spilling even more, but it was useless. “Watch where the hell you’re going!” His deep voice startled me as he looked down from a lofty height, easily a foot taller than I was. So ashamed I could barely look at him, I was only vaguely aware that he looked familiar. He grasped his crushed coffee cup in one hand, a huge umbrella in the other, held so high over my head it did little to stop the downpour. Thick but well-kept stubble lined his sharp jaw, and black hair hung in savage, daring shocks across his forehead.
My mouth dropped open in horror. “I am so sorry,” I said, looking around frantically but unfortunately there was nothing along the lines of stray rolls of paper towels or time turners that would help me make this predicament any better. There was just me, a sodden, furious monster of a man, and a few bashful onlookers who went on about their business.
They were smart. He looked ready to kill.
I inhaled, prepared to offer my most sincere apology. He towered over me, easily a full head over my slight 5’1” frame. His hands flicked off excess coffee, while he growled, in a deep, husky, pissed-off voice that sounded more like a growl than polite conversation, “You ought to watch where you’re going. For crying out loud, you could’ve burned yourself.” He grunted, attempting to smooth out his clothing, but it was no use. He was a sodden mess. “Did you?”
I blinked. Did I what?
His eyes lifted to mine, brows knit with a furious glare, his lips thinned. “Burn yourself,” he spat out.
I looked down at myself stupidly before responding. “No…I’m fine.”
“Good,” he muttered. “But for Christ’s sake, watch where you’re going.” He turned to leave.
“Mister — whoever —” I sputtered. “I am so sorry I bumped into you like that. Please allow me to compensate you in some way, pay for your dry cleaning, or —”
He turned a scornful eye at me, lips turning down at the edges, his eyes raking me over from head to toe before he scoffed. “You couldn’t afford it,” he said, before he turned on his heel and left.
My stomach dropped, and then I realized that I was now officially late for work.
“Annabelle!” So much for hoping that Linus, the overbearing owner of Diner on Main, wasn’t in yet. “You’re late?”
I frowned, turning away from him and hoping he’d get too busy to notice me again, when I heard a voice behind me.
“Do you have any idea who you just slammed into?” Lucy, the local librarian, was all about small town gossip, and knew every single person who ever set foot in any place at any time. She was even tinier than I was, with thick blonde hair pulled into a braid, sporting a short denim jumper. Perched upon a stool at the counter, her blue eyes blinked at me.
“No idea, Luce,” I said, stepping out of my rain coat and shaking it off in the back room. “And I don’t care. He’s the biggest jerk I’ve ever —”
“Annabelle!” My stomach clenched and I barely stifled a groan.
“Good morning, Linus,” I said as pleasantly as possible, taking my apron off a peg just behind the cash register and slipping it over my head as Linus came around the corner. Linus — a middle-aged dictator with wire-rimmed glasses atop his too-long nose, a thin moustache and a scant scattering of mud-colored hair across his head, frowned at me.
I fumbled to tie the apron in the back, when Lucy came over and did it for me, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t mind him, honey,” she said. “He’s in a bit of a temper this morning.”
When was Linus not in a bit of a temper?
“Do you know what time it is?” he grumbled, pointing up to the clock.
I can tell time, dumbass.
Releasing a shuddering breath, I nodded. “Yes, sir. 7:07. Looks like my lucky day?” But humor was lost on Linus.
“That’ll come out of your pay,” he grumbled, as he snatched a wad of napkins from the counter. “Go serve the table with the three kids over there.”
I inhaled, shot Lucy a forced smile, and stepped over to the table where three moms with toddlers were having morning coffee. I took their orders, catching a small glass of orange juice before it spilled, and doing my best to put on a smile despite the fact that my head pounded from lack of sleep, my stomach growled in hunger, and I felt like bursting into tears.
I turned to go to the kitchen to place the order with Lucy following me.
“I didn’t get to tell you who that was,” she hissed in my ear. “It was —”
“Annabelle!” boomed a familiar voice.
Oh, for God’s sake.
I closed my eyes, stifling another groan, as Lucy grabbed my hand and squeezed.
Her high-pitched voice piped up. “She’s working, Gavin. Bug off!”
I bit the side of my cheek to keep from smiling. I adored Lucy.
Gavin, true to form, ignored her as he plunked down on one of the spindly chairs by the bar. “Cup of coffee, baby,” he said. “You know how I like my breakfast.” Gavin Montgomery, the local news reporter and small town heartbreaker, flicked his fingers across his cell phone, tipping his head to the side with a cocky grin. He tapped the phone, and a flash illuminated his straight white teeth. As always, he was dressed impeccably, in a tailor-made suit, blue button-down shirt and tie, his hair perfectly coiffed. He was like a small-town Superman in designer duds.
“Selfie of the day, Gavin?” I muttered. “And no, I don’t know what your usual is.”
Sliding his phone in his pocket, he smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles from his suit. “Egg white omelette, lean ham, and fruit bowl, baby.”
“Linus doesn’t carry lean ham, Gavin,” I said. “You know what he carries. Standard breakfast sausage and bacon. And I’m not your baby.”
Gavin frowned. “All those nitrates. Is he at least carrying free-range eggs yet? Or still in the dark ages?”
“Dark ages.”
He shook his head and reached for my hand. His fingers were cold, his palm clammy, and I yanked my hand out of his.
“I’m working, Gavin,” I chided. “Let me put in your or—”
But he was too fast. His hand snaked to my waist and pulled me to his side. “I know you’re working, baby,” he drawled. “But why don’t you meet me for dinner tonight? I’ll take you to a new little sushi restaurant over the bridge in town. We can drown our woes in sake and get to know one another a bit more.”
“I don’t like fish, and I despise sake,” I lied. Though it was true I hated fish
, I’d never tried sake in my life.
He frowned, his pretty blue eyes looking hurt. Damn him. “How could you not like fish?” he said, with a shrug. “It’ll help you keep your girlish figure even after you bear children, you know.”
My jaw dropped open. “Bear children? I’m only twenty years old, Gavin!”
He shrugged a shoulder, scoffing. “That’s perfect. The younger you are when you bear them, the quicker you’ll snap back into shape. Why not give it a whirl?”
I pulled away from him. “Putting in your order,” I said, ignoring him as he continued to extrapolate on the benefits of women of childbearing years eating fish.
Lucy sidled up to me. “Can I spill his coffee on him?” The reminder of my early morning accident had me groaning out loud.
“God, don’t remind me,” I moaned.
“Remind you of what?” she asked, but just at then two things happened at once. My phone buzzed in my pocket at the very moment I heard a horrible screeching sound outside the diner, followed by shattering glass, wrenching metal, and shouts coming from outside. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. A text from my sister.
Mom is missing.
A feeling of dread pooling in the pit of my stomach, I tossed my notebook in my apron pocket, and ignoring shouts from Linus and pleas from Gavin, I ran outside with Lucy to see what had happened
My heart stuttered in my chest.
Just around the bend where I’d run into the huge jerk this morning were two cars twisted sickeningly, and one of them I knew all too well: my mom’s old navy Buick, the one I’d carefully hidden the keys for the night before. The other? The most expensive-looking car I’d ever laid eyes on.
I raced to the scene of the accident as sirens screamed in the background and onlookers crowded around the cars.
“Mom!” Was she okay? God! She wasn’t supposed to drive. She couldn’t be trusted not to hurt herself, or anyone else. The dash was demolished, and windshield shattered. Oh, God. If she hurt herself…if she hurt anyone else…
“Annabelle!” My mom’s wobbly voice came from the left, and when I turned, my eyes widened in disbelief. No way. No how.
God, NO.
My mom stood next to the man whose coffee I’d spilled this morning, his white shirt still drenched with the dark brown liquid. My mother rushed toward me, as his eyes narrowed on mine, his enormous arms crossing his chest.
“Mom, are you okay?” I asked, looking over her frail body. She was still wearing her pale blue pajamas, and a pair of slippers, her gray-streaked hair tied back in a messy ponytail, no glasses in sight. God. Where was Melody?
“I’m fine,” my mom said, with a wave of her hand. “But this one over here thinks it’s fine to run stop lights. He ought to be put in jail!” She glared at the man, whose eyes narrowed even further. His jaw clenched as he glared right back at her, pulling his phone out of his pocket and putting it up to his ear. He pointed one angry finger at me, commanding me to stay right where I was.
There was no need. I wasn’t going anywhere.
As police cars pulled up with flashing blue and red lights, I grimaced, and a stranger stepped up to me, an elderly woman with a raincoat pulled tight about her. “She’s at fault, ma’am,” she said. “I saw the whole thing.”
“You hush your mouth!” my mom began.
I put a placating hand on her arm. In the early stages of dementia, my mom was in no position to be driving, let alone giving an accurate account of what happened, which was why I’d hidden the keys to begin with. My sister was supposed to be on duty.
“Mom, please be quiet,” I whispered, trying my best to keep my cool, when the big beast of a man shut off his phone and stalked over to us, joined by two police officers and a paramedic crew.
His deep voice commanded the situation, as all eyes went to him. “The light turned green, and I began to drive,” he said, “when this ancient piece of junk slammed right into my passenger side.”
“How dare you call me an ancient piece –”
He held up a hand. “I’m talking about your car, not you. Please do not interrupt me. Fortunately, I was alone and it appears no one was truly hurt. The cars, on the other hand, are totaled.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Am I to presume that you are the one responsible for this woman?” His gaze wandered over her pajamas and slippers.
I swallowed, embarrassed by my mother’s display, horrified at the damage she’d caused, but furious at his dismissal of the one person I loved more than anyone in the entire world.
“Yes,” I said, through clenched teeth. “This is my mother.” I glared back at him, defying him to insult my own flesh and blood. His eyes narrowed on me, but he said nothing.
“Annabelle,” Officer Jones said gently. I went to school with this guy, and knew him well. With a sigh, I looked at him and nodded. “We’ve talked about this before, okay? Allowing your mother to drive like this, without supervision, is very dangerous.”
“Matthew,” I began. “I—” but it was too late. My mother heard all.
“How dare you talk about me as if I’m a child?” she said, her voice carrying over the crowd as my hand goes to her arm, attempting to calm her.
“Mom—”
“I am no older than your mother, Officer, and I am perfectly capable of driving. If this one over here hadn’t been driving like such an idiot, we wouldn’t have gotten into an accident!”
I sighed with practiced patience. “Mom, calm down. We need to get you examined,” I said, hoping to distract her. I looked to Matthew. “Can we give a report at the hospital?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Of course, Annabelle. I think they both should be checked out. Mrs. Symphony, try to relax, and we’ll bring you in to make sure you’re okay.” He turned to the big guy who was still glowering as if he were ready to breathe fire. “And you, let’s get you looked over as well.”
I turned my back to both of them, closing my eyes as the paramedics looked over Mom.
His car was worth more than my entire house. How would we ever get out of this?
Chapter Two
Sawyer
I punched numbers on my phone until I finally reached Alvin, my assistant.
“Where are you?” he questioned. “I’ve got the consultants from Senora Enterprises waiting, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold them off with playful banter.”
“Cancel the meeting,” I said. “Tell them I was in a car accident, and I’m on my way to the hospital.”
“Jesus, Sawyer, are you serious?” I scowled at the paramedic trying to wrap one of those stupid blood-pressure cuffs over my arm. Did I look like I was injured? All I needed was for my face to be plastered all over the local paper…again. The one day I decided to shrug off reclusivity and come into town for this god-awful meeting I needed to attend, and I end up with a coffee plastered suit and a totaled Aston Martin.
Fuck.
“No, I feel like playing a practical joke,” I hissed into the phone, wanting to reach in and throttle him with my bare hands.
He sighed. “Are you okay?”
“Besides my car being totaled and my suit wrecked?” I twisted my neck, ignoring the pain when I moved, and my aching temples. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll be there within the hour,” he said.
“Don’t bother. Reschedule the meeting.” I ended the call and slammed my phone into my pocket. The young paramedic, a boy with hair cut so short he looked like he was prepared to enlist in the army, looked up at me with wide eyes.
“Just need to get your pulse, Mister Gryffin,” he said, putting two fingers on my wrist.
I merely stared, not deigning to dignify the aggravation with a response.
His eyebrows shot up, and he entered something into the tablet on his lap. “Your blood pressure is high, but all other vitals appear clear. You seem to be mostly unscathed, Mister Gryffin,” he said. “But we should double-check signs of concussion at the hospital.”
“Fine,” I growled, stone facing him
into silence as he waved a light in my eyes, and without thinking, I swatted his hand away. Good. Nothing like a growl or show of temper to get people to shut the fuck up.
We pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, as I allowed them to take me into the ER, noting the ambulance carrying the girl and her mother pulled in right next to us.
I still could not believe she’d allow her mother to drive unaccompanied. Her mother, clearly mentally unstable, was a menace to society.
As the doors to the hospital opened, they pushed me inside, followed by the girl and her mother. The girl wouldn’t make eye contact with me. Who could blame her? But as I did my best to make her squirm under my penetrating glare, I looked her over. She was a bit odd, but… beautiful. I began to think of a way I could make this all very much worth my while.
The night was growing dark now. I waited impatiently for my paperwork so I could be released, when a tentative knock came at the door.
“Come in,” I barked, expecting the third nurse to come in to take my blood pressure for the umpteenth time, but to my surprise, the small brunette who’d spilled coffee all over me stepped into the room. Her huge brown eyes were wide and fearful, which pleased me.
I liked people being afraid of me.
“What do you want?” I asked, my teeth clenching. I wanted to be home, not talking to the girl yet.
“I wanted to apologize,” she began, her hands clasped in front of her. She still wore her diner uniform and her nametag.
Annabelle.
“You ought to apologize,” I snapped. “First, for ruining a perfectly good suit and second, for allowing your mother to roam the streets unaccompanied. She could’ve hurt someone, or herself.”
“I know,” she began, her eyes pleading with me to understand.
Fuck understanding.
“But if you’d only listen to me. First, bumping into you this morning was an accident, and I already offered to pay —”
