Taming the Big Bad Billionaire

by Pippa Roscoe

  ‘Do you understand, Ella? Do you see? The promise I made to my mother on her deathbed, it was a promise that kept me alive, made me get up in the morning, drove me beyond anything else in this world to succeed and achieve the impossible. You made me promise not to do it, and I couldn’t live up to that. I couldn’t because my mother came first. That promise came first.’

  * * *

  For the first time since she had made him make that promise Ella realised the cost of it. Tears rose to her eyes at the position she had put him in, unwittingly. In her mind, the destruction of Kolikov Holdings was simply the embodiment of his betrayal—of Vladimir’s betrayal—of her. She hadn’t really thought what it had meant to him, what it had symbolised to him.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this? Why didn’t you try to explain?’ she asked in a softer voice than the trembling she felt within her.

  ‘And risk you leaving with my child?’

  ‘A departure you specifically engineered only a few months later?’ she couldn’t help but interject.

  ‘The few months it took me to realise just how much damage I could do to you. When I realised that I was too weak not to give in to the urge to destroy the last trace of Vladimir’s hold on this world.’

  Ella took a moment to think through his words, the pain and anguish clearly ringing within them. She had been so determined, so sure of her demand when she’d made it, she could see that she would have walked away. Her own pain and anger, the fierceness with which she’d thought she had been in the right.

  Taking a breath, she made herself feel the intention of his words, to feel the truth of them.

  ‘And now?’ she asked.

  ‘Now?’ Roman seemed confused, as if in his mind there simply couldn’t be a now.

  ‘Yes. Now, how do you feel?’

  ‘About Vladimir’s company?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t care about the damn company and never want to hear its name again,’ she cried. ‘I want to know how you feel about me.’

  She looked at him, watching his features closely as if they could give her some kind of hint or hope to what she believed he felt. He crossed the room to come before her, dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. ‘There is nothing in this world more important to me. I love you with every single beat of my heart.’

  Her own heart leapt, her hands shaking within the press of his.

  ‘I would give anything to take back all the hurt I inflicted upon you, all the times you felt doubt, or questioned yourself because of me. I have had only a week of that myself and...’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘I am truly sorry for it. And if you give me the chance I will spend each and every single day trying to make up for it. I will never, ever speak an untruth to you again. I will never make you doubt me, my love for you or our child. I will do whatever it takes, Ella. Because I love you. There is so much of it, there is no room for anything else. Not thoughts of vengeance, not the need to destroy. Just love. And all of it for you and our family.’

  She was startled to feel the pad of his thumb sweep aside a tear she hadn’t realised was there.

  She reached for him then and pulled him towards her, delighting in the feel of his kiss, sweetened by her tears of joy.

  ‘I love you,’ she said between presses of her lips against his. ‘So, so much,’ she said. And that was the last thing he allowed her to say before sweeping her into his bedroom, closing the door and showing her how beautiful their lovemaking could, and would, be for the rest of their lives.

  EPILOGUE

  Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel...they each found their handsome prince. But Red Riding Hood found something so much more. She found her mate, her wolf...her pack. And in doing so she found herself.

  The Truth About Little Red Riding Hood

  —Roz Fayrer

  ELLA STOOD IN the doorway to her daughter’s room in Puycalvel watching the four-year-old spin slightly off-centred circles in her little pink leotard and ballet shoes, both of which were extremely cute but nothing compared to the full length pink, frothy, layered, sparkly tutu that Roman had produced for her just hours before.

  It was completely over the top but Tatiana loved it and had refused to take it off, not even for bed, despite the warnings that she might damage it.

  ‘I’m going to be the greatest ballerina ever,’ she proclaimed between spins, ‘but not as great as Grandma, because no one could be as good as Grandma.’

  The sound of footsteps above on the staircase drew Ella’s attention towards her husband, who had their second daughter in his arms as he made his way carefully down the steps. Not once had he ever betrayed his promise to keep her and their children safe, not once had he ever given her cause to feel anything but joy and love. Frustration sometimes and perhaps, even on occasion, a healthy dose of anger. But never sadness and never fear.

  The moment his eyes found hers, the smile on his face brightened, his eyes widened with an awe she would never tire of as he took in her, once again, rounded form.

  ‘We’re going to have to stop at three, you know,’ she warned in a voice still low from trying to settle her unruly daughter.

  ‘Why?’ he said, as if he would never tire of seeing her pregnant, of meeting the children they bore, of increasing the amount of love each time within their family. It seemed in almost never-ending supply.

  ‘Because I want you to myself for a while,’ she mock growled as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  ‘You can have as much of me as you like, for however long you like. I am here, yours, always and for ever.’

  ‘It’s words like that that got me in this situation in the first place,’ she moaned, her hands sweeping down around her bump. Their third child was due in a few months’ time and neither parent could wait to meet the new addition to the family.

  ‘I will keep saying them until they stop working,’ her husband insisted.

  ‘I want to see Auntie Célia and my cousins,’ Tatiana announced, jumping up and down, despite the late hour.

  ‘And we will, but tomorrow, sweetheart. Now, it’s time for bed.’

  ‘Nope. Not time for bed.’

  ‘Yes, time for bed,’ Roman chimed in, walking into his daughter’s bedroom and sitting at the bottom of her bed. ‘And you know what that means?’

  ‘Story, story, story,’ exclaimed Tatiana as Adeline clapped her hands together with as much co-ordination as an eighteen-month-old could manage.

  ‘I believe it’s your turn, wife,’ Roman announced with a smile full of satisfaction and happiness. Ella believed that he loved this nightly routine almost more than the girls did.

  ‘No, surely you’re mistaken. It was my turn last night.’

  ‘No, Maman, last night was The Frog Prince. It’s your turn tonight.’

  ‘And what story would you like to hear?’

  ‘My favourite one, silly.’

  Roman growled softly, and Tatiana looked apologetic enough for long enough, before reaching out a hand towards Ella to pull her on to the bed. Dorcas stalked over to her doggy bed in the corner of the room, seemingly content that she had successfully herded her entire family into one room.

  As she sat down on the edge of the bed, next to her husband and children, Ella felt wrapped in a cocoon of unconditional love. Her family, all joyous, beautiful, beaming, happy and safe.

  ‘Once upon a time, there was a sweet little maiden and whoever laid eyes upon her couldn’t help but love her, nor help but remark on the beautiful red velvet cape her grandmother had given her...’

  She looked at her husband and he didn’t need to hear the words that cried through her heart straight to his. For Ella did believe in fairy tales now that they’d both found their happy-ever-after.

  * * *

  Wrapped up in the drama of Taming the Big Bad Billionaire? Enter Pippa Roscoe’s passionate world with these other stories!
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  The Flaw in His Marriage Plan

  by Tara Pammi

  CHAPTER ONE

  “LET’S GET MARRIED, PRINCESS.”

  Vincenzo Cavalli adopted his usual composed expression but it didn’t come easily this time. Shock made it hard for him to pretend as if he’d been planning to say those words all along. As if they hadn’t erupted out of some place inside him that he didn’t even know existed.

  Alessandra Giovanni—top supermodel and the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, froze in the act of pushing her hair back from her face, her expression arrested.

  It was as if a circuit in his brain had shorted, bypassing years of unwritten rules he’d always lived by. Every step in his life for the last two decades had been planned meticulously, building toward a future he’d pictured for himself as a young boy denied everything—love and basic security.

  Every step dictated by his final goal—to take over Brunetti Finance International and nothing else. Every hour of every day he’d poured sweat and blood into pulling himself up from poverty to be able to claim his birthright one day.

  Pursuing Alessandra Giovanni had initially been a part of that carefully crafted plan, as he’d discovered Alessandra was attached to all the Brunettis, especially the matriarch of the family, Greta Brunetti, who had thrown his mother and him out to starve.

  Asking her to marry him—no. That was as much a surprise to him as it was to her.

  But now that the words were out, he found he meant them. And not because he was an honorable man who kept his word at all costs.

  Honor had always been a luxury he couldn’t afford—like shoes or three meals a day when he’d been growing up on the streets of Milan.

  Honor had no place in his world.

  No, this request was purely selfish. Maybe the first selfish, nonstrategic thing he’d done in a long time. In forever, actually.

  It was irrational and illogical, but the shocked look in Alessandra’s eyes, the quick flare of excitement she buried the next second, the flush of color dusting her cheeks as her chest rose and fell, the fast rush of blood in his own veins as he imagined facing the famed Brunettis with Alessandra at his side as his wife—he knew this was utterly right.

  More than anything, he wanted Alex in his life.

  The chemistry of their instant connection had taken him aback when he’d hunted her down to this perfect corner of Bali. Their mutual attraction a useful tool he hadn’t counted on. But now that he had her, he wasn’t going to give her up.

  As to the fact of her being connected to the very family he’d been planning to destroy for so long, he was certain he could persuade her to see his point of view. Once he explained his reasons, Alessandra would take his side. She wasn’t a blood relative of theirs. She would understand his need to topple them all. Her strong sense of right and wrong, her championing of causes around the world—it was an innate part of her nature, a quality that only added an extra dimension to his already magnetic attraction to her.

  He raised the glass of champagne in his hand while never breaking eye contact with her.

  Clad in a sky blue bikini that hugged her firm breasts like a lover’s caressing hands, she looked voluptuously beautiful. As a supermodel who had worked for most of the large international design houses, he hadn’t been surprised by her punishing fitness routine. But the natural energy of the woman as she geared up to take on the world and its myriad injustices... It still amazed him.

  The blue of the infinity pool they were standing next to, in the grounds of her private villa, with the backdrop of Bali’s lush hills and valleys surrounding it, couldn’t equal the breathtaking quality of Alessandra’s beauty. Hers was not simply the beauty of flawless skin or perfectly symmetrical features or curves most women would die for, though she possessed all those things.

  It was her imperfections that delighted him, the quirks that made Alessandra Giovanni one of the most beautiful women in the world.

  The gap between her front teeth, that fresh-faced girl-next-door quality, the awkward, self-deprecating sense of humor, her mad obsession with the world of boxing, her incredible verve for life, the audacious drive to fix all the injustices of the world...

  On paper, she’d been too good to be true, stoking Vincenzo’s curiosity into a wildfire.

  In real life, she was magnificent, a force to be reckoned with, and he’d stood no chance against her from the second their eyes had met.

  And then there was her air of wary vulnerability that innumerable magazines and countless photoshoots had never managed to accurately capture.

  It stared back at him now out of bright brown eyes. The quality that had kept him awake the past few nights. Even with her warmth wrapped around him like a vine.

  She’s innocent, the small part of his conscience that he hadn’t been able to silence kept piping up. She might be hurt.

  Not when he was making her a part of his life, he told himself. Not by offering her something he’d never even considered in his entire life. Not if he carefully explained his reasons, not with her innate sense of right and wrong.

  “Married?” she repeated, her tongue swiping over that plump lower lip that millions of women over the world tried to emulate with collagen. Her eyes widened in her gamine face. “Don’t mess around with me, V,” she said, with a little laugh at the end. A rough, rasping sound that never failed to arouse him.

  A brave little effort to hide her emotions while the madly fluttering pulse at her neck betrayed her. Using that moniker she’d allocated him that first day when they’d met as though it was a kind of shield against him. Against her own feelings.

  This was what he liked about being with Alessandra—she was an open book, somehow having retained a genuine quality in a cutthroat world.

  He finished his drink and dived headlong into the pool, his heart thundering loudly in his chest. When he reached her, he pulled himself out of the water, and stood, her body flush with his. Her warm breath feathered over his cheekbones.

  He pushed a tendril of hair away from her temple, his fingers, as always, itching to touch her. Hold her. Possess her. “You should know by now that I don’t say things I don’t mean, Princess,” he said, pressing his mouth to her cheekbone. He filled his hands with the dips and valleys of her waist, the hitch in her breathing as he touched her pinging over his nerves.

  “Yeah?”

  “Si, cara mia. The last few weeks have been...” He frowned, trying to locate the elusive word. He’d never lost himself in the sensuality of a woman as he’d done with her. He’d never lost his mind over a woman like this, period.

  “Wonderful. Fantastic. Amazing,” she added in a breathless tone, a stark honesty in her voice that he was coming to count on more and more.

  He laughed, the sound of it strange to his own ears. “All that. And I find...” He pulled her closer until their breaths melded. Until her arms locked around his neck. Until she sank her long fingers into his hair and pulled his head down. Until their hearts beat against each other in a harmony of need and want. “I’m not ready to let you go, cara. I don’t think I’d ever want to. So why not make it official?”

  She let out a gasp. He could feel her trembling against him. “It’s crazy. These entire last few w
eeks have been completely crazy.”

  “Crazy bad?” he added, a ball of something he didn’t want to name lodged in his chest. He’d never waited on an answer with such gut-twisting anticipation. All his adulthood, he’d manipulated things into working his way. He’d taken, instead of asking. Because he’d learned early on that it was the only way he could have things. Now he disliked the feeling vehemently. Once he had her, he would never subject himself to it ever again, he promised himself.

  “No,” she answered promptly. “Crazy good. Crazy fairy-tale-esque, almost. When I’m with you, I almost feel like the princess you call me. I...”

  He waited. On a knife’s edge.

  “But then I’ve never been bowled over quite like I’ve been by you. I was just about ready to give up on men, in fact. And the world, even. When I was younger, I heard this story of a girl rescued by a prince. And you...”

  “I’m no prince, Alessandra.”

  She sighed and burrowed her face into the warmth of his shoulder. Her teeth sank into his skin at the juncture of his neck. And his body reacted instantly, pressing against her soft belly. “It’s been magical. And no, I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go back to real life.” Big eyes held his, penetrating in their intensity. “Only we don’t know everything about each other yet.”

  “Is it enough to know that until I met you I’d never ever considered sharing my life with a woman, ever? Is it enough to know that the last few weeks have truly taken my life in a new direction? Is it enough to know that the future you confided in me you want is the one I want too?”