Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

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Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance Page 1

by Kristen Proby




  MODERN FAIRY TALE

  Table of Contents

  Kissing Jenna

  by Kristen Proby

  American Queen

  by Sierra Simone

  Hold You Against Me

  by Skye Warren

  Cheeky Royal

  by Nana Malone

  Unconditional

  by Lexi Blake

  Slow Burn

  by J.H. Croix

  The Player

  by Denise Grover Swank

  Merciless

  by Willow Winters

  To See You

  by Rachel Blaufeld

  The Prince

  by Jillian Dodd

  Just Desserts

  by Marquita Valentine

  Pennies

  by Pepper Winters

  Prologue

  Thank you for downloading MODERN FAIRY TALE, a limited-time boxed set of bestselling romance! Sign up to receive the hottest NEW book boyfriends in your inbox every week here: http://bit.ly/2STmWoh

  Turn the page to read KISSING JENNA, a feel-good love story between Christian Wolfe, Hollywood’s it actor, preparing for the biggest role of his life, and the small town girl tied to Colorado’s snowy seclusion.

  Or if you’ve read that one, skip ahead to the scorching hot contemporary retelling of King Arthur, his queen Guinevere, and the knight Lancelot in AMERICAN QUEEN.

  Or if you’ve read that one, skip ahead to the mafia romance HOLD YOU AGAINST ME. Once upon a time a mafia princess fell in love with a foot soldier…

  KISSING JENNA

  Kristen Proby

  Jenna Hull owns and manages vacation rentals in her hometown of Cunningham Falls, Montana. She’s just completed the construction of her most exhausting project, the one she’s put her heart and soul into. The inviting, opulent Snow Wolf Cottages are the first ski in/ski out tree houses in the world.

  Her biggest dream is about to come true, and she can’t let anything distract her.

  Christian Wolfe is Hollywood’s it actor. If the magazines are to be believed, he’s the sexiest man on earth. He’s preparing for the biggest movie role of his life, and his agent has booked him in a hot new ski lodge in Montana, tucked away from crazy fans. He can’t wait for the break.

  But what Christian isn’t prepared for is Jenna. With a face that could easily co-star with him in a movie and her ambition to put her stamp on Cunningham Falls, he can’t stay away. But even more intriguing than her beauty is the fact that she’s not at all impressed with his celebrity status, only turned on by the man behind the fame.

  The love they’ve found is perfect—but time is running out before real life intrudes. Can they survive with both their dreams—and hearts—intact?

  Prologue

  Christian

  “Do you have your shit figured out?”

  Luke Williams is sitting across from me in a restaurant in downtown Seattle, where he summoned me a week ago. I just flew in this morning, on his private jet, to meet with him. I cleared my full schedule for this.

  No one in Hollywood says no to Luke Williams. Not if you want to succeed, that is. It seems Luke has the Midas touch when it comes to blockbuster movies, and I admit that I want to work with him. I’ve admired him for the better part of my life. Taking this meeting was a no-brainer.

  “What shit would that be?” I sit back, my sunglasses still on my face, and take a sip of my room-temperature water with a squeeze of lemon. His blue eyes narrow as he watches me intently.

  “I live in Seattle, not on Mars, Christian. People talk in our little world. I know you’ve had some challenges in the past few years.”

  Try since I was six.

  Being a child-actor-turned-adult-super-celebrity isn’t without its challenges. I’ve been smart enough to stay far away from the drugs, and most of the women. Hell, I’ve been Hollywood’s clean-cut movie star for the majority of my life, and the image has done well for me. But being in this world means that you choose distance. Loneliness. And it suddenly occurs to me that Luke might be one of the only people in the world who would understand that.

  He starred in some of the most successful movies ever made about a decade ago, and despite the mega-stardom, came out of it with a happy marriage and a career that the rest of us envy.

  “I’m doing all right. I won an Oscar last year.”

  “Congratulations on that, by the way. You also got yourself a DUI and had a very public breakup with your girlfriend.”

  He’s not smirking, he’s just watching me while stating facts that anyone who reads a tabloid would know.

  “I’m doing fine,” I repeat and take off my glasses, tossing them onto the table, then pinch the bridge of my nose. “And I’m curious as to why you brought me all the way to Seattle, just to have lunch. So you could grill me about my very public private life? You could have just called.”

  I expect him to smirk, but he doesn’t. He rubs his fingers over his lips before sitting forward. “You know, Christian, if you ever want to talk about anything, any of it, I’m here. I know you don’t know me well, but you can trust me.”

  I believe him. Luke is fiercely private, and I trust that anything I were to say to him would remain between us. I could let my walls down with him, but I’m not sure that we’re there yet.

  “Thanks for the offer,” I reply sincerely and push my hand through my hair. “I’m figuring things out.”

  He’s quiet for a moment, then nods once.

  “There’s a movie that I’m producing. It’s big-budget, and I think it could snag you another Oscar.”

  “You could have just called my agent.”

  “I could,” he replies with a shrug. “But, I wanted to talk to you in person. This isn’t an action movie like the ones I’ve been making the past few years.”

  I tilt my head, my interest piqued.

  “This one is based on a true story. It’s about a skier.”

  “Is there a book for me to read?”

  His lips twitch now. “Of course, there’s a book.”

  “I don’t know how to ski,” I warn him, but he just shrugs.

  “That’s fine. In fact, it might be good for you to get out of town for a while and prepare for the role, learn to ski, enjoy a change of scenery.”

  “I haven’t taken the role yet.”

  “I hope you will,” he says with a smile. He spends the next ten minutes selling me on the film, and when he’s finished, he writes down a figure that makes even me swallow hard.

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “This is a big deal,” he replies and rests his hands on the table. “I know you need to talk to your agent and your attorney, but frankly, you’re the only actor that I’m considering for this. I want you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re talented. And I think you’ll bring some grit to this role, an edge that it needs.”

  “I am gritty these days,” I reply with a laugh.

  “Which is better than the pretty boy you were as a teenager,” Luke adds, making me narrow my eyes. “It’s not easy to transition from a child actor to an adult one. I know that. But you’re doing it, despite the bumps in the road.”

  “Thank you. I think.” He smiles, and I find myself smiling back at him. “I guess I’d better start looking for a ski resort so I can get some lessons in.”

  “Excellent,” Luke replies. “Just don’t break a leg. I
don’t want to have to postpone filming.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Chapter One

  Jenna

  Last night was off the hizzy.

  My beautiful tree houses, Snow Wolf Cottages, are finally finished and open for business. It took a year, several contractor changes, and more money than I anticipated, but here we are.

  Thanksgiving weekend is just finished, and I waved my college buddies goodbye this morning as they drove down the hill to the airport, headed back to Port Hudson, New York, to take over the world with their uber-successful company, LWW Enterprises.

  I couldn’t be happier for them. And because they’re proud of me, too, three of them came to Cunningham Falls, Montana, to celebrate the grand opening weekend for Snow Wolf Cottages with my local friends and family.

  I hosted the party here in the largest of the three units, and we partied into the wee hours of the morning when everyone went home, and the four of us college friends laughed until it was time for them to leave.

  I already miss them.

  I’m sitting on the snowy deck, wrapped in a quilt, my feet up on the banister and a steaming hot mug of coffee gripped in my hands, taking in the silence of the early morning on a mountain.

  Whitetail Ski Resort is blanketed in soft powder, ready for ski season to open tomorrow. My tree houses sit right along one of the runs, and I’m excited for my guests to be able to watch the skiers zip by from the comfort of the luxurious accommodations I’ve provided them.

  This is my soul project.

  I wanted a place where people could come to visit my hometown of Cunningham Falls and be surrounded by absolute rustic opulence while falling in love with the charm of the area.

  And then they’ll go home and make room for someone else.

  A deer meanders down the ski run in front of me, sniffing the air.

  “Do you smell my coffee, sweet girl?” I ask softly, and she twitches her ears at me, then continues walking away.

  Yes, this is where my heart is. This mountain. This town. These people.

  I can hear tires crunching over the fresh snow before I see the sleek, black SUV turn the corner toward my place. It parks in the lot below my deck, and a man climbs out, walks around to the back to fetch his luggage, and then stops to take a deep breath and to take in the tree houses looming over him.

  It seems Mr. Flint Stone is early.

  I narrow my eyes, not moving, and take another sip of my coffee. He’s not supposed to be here until later this afternoon, and I’ve always been a stickler for a schedule. But one thing I’ve learned while being in the hospitality business is that you have to be flexible.

  Even if being flexible includes greeting a guest in my pajamas and bunny slippers.

  The man waves and offers me a smile, and I wave back.

  “Mr. Stone?” I call down.

  Of course, that’s not his real name, but he nods.

  “Just climb that staircase,” I point to my left, “and I’ll meet you at the front door.”

  He nods, and I stand to go inside, shedding my quilt but not setting down my coffee. No, someone would have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.

  I open the door and step back, inviting the stranger inside. “Sorry, this won’t be your unit. I stayed here last night.”

  Christ, he’s better-looking in person than on the movie screen. He sets his bag down and brushes some snow from his dark blond hair.

  “Hi,” he says with a smile.

  “Hi. I’m Jenna.” He shakes my hand, and I’m surprised by how warm his skin is.

  “Sorry I’m so early,” he says. “The plane was ready, and I decided to take advantage of it.”

  “No worries,” I reply with a shrug and hook my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet a guest without makeup, in my pajamas and bunny slippers, but here we are.”

  He glances around the messy tree house with humor in his blue eyes. “Looks like you had a hell of a party.”

  “Oh, we did,” I confirm. “That doesn’t happen often, and I’d anticipated the mess being gone before you got here. This is my grand opening, and my friends helped me celebrate.”

  “Congratulations,” he says as his eyes land on the mug I’m holding. “I do not spew profanities. I enunciate them like a fucking lady,” he reads with a smile.

  “Damn right,” I reply with a nod. “Now, let me grab my keys, and I’ll show you to your very clean, very comfortable space.”

  “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t move from the doorway as I walk into the kitchen and rummage in my handbag for the keys to his unit. When I return to him, his hands are in his pockets, and he’s waiting quietly.

  “This way, Mr. Stone.”

  His lips twitch with humor as I lead him from my unit to the one on the opposite end. “There are three tree houses, as you can see. I’ve put you in this end unit, called the Tamarack, named after the trees found on this property.”

  “This is beautiful,” he says, looking around. “I don’t know if I’ve seen anything quite like it.”

  “I know,” I reply with a smile. “Trust me, you haven’t.”

  I pass him my mug while I unlock the door, then retrieve it and lead him inside, flipping on lights as I go.

  “Come on in. This is your home away from home for the next four weeks.” I pause in the kitchen while he wanders through the space, looking outside, then taking in the blue kitchen cabinets, the large gas fireplace, and the comfortable furniture. “In the email correspondence, you asked for extra groceries to be stocked in the kitchen, and I’ve done that for you.”

  “Thanks,” he says. “Where’s the closest Starbucks?”

  I lean my hip on the counter and take a sip of my now lukewarm coffee. “In town.”

  “Not on the mountain?”

  “There’s a coffee shop up here, yes, but it doesn’t open until tomorrow when the season officially starts. I believe that’s the case for the restaurants up here, too.”

  “So, no food up here?”

  I shake my head. “No, but I’ll take pity on you and make you dinner tonight, if you like.”

  His eyes narrow, suspicion written all over his face. “Why would you do that?”

  I lean in as if I’m about to tell him a secret and whisper loudly, “Because I’m a nice person.”

  He doesn’t smile.

  “You can figure it out for yourself if you want to.” I shrug and lead him to the barn door that closes the small bedroom off the living space. “This is the bedroom on this level. There’s a bathroom here, too. I’ll show you the upstairs.”

  I climb the stairs, certain that his eyes are on my ass, and hear him gasp when we reach the top.

  “Cool, huh?”

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs again, looking up. There’s a turret, accessible only by a ladder that has a bed and a blue ceiling covered in stars. I flip a switch, and the stars light up.

  “I wired every one of those myself,” I inform him quietly, sipping my coffee. “It was a pain in the ass.”

  “But so worth it,” he says and smiles down at me. I can see why he’s taken. He’s handsome and well-spoken. As far as I can tell, he’s charming.

  His girlfriend, who was splashed all over People magazine last week, is a lucky woman.

  “Thank you,” I reply with a happy smile. “You’ll have privacy here. And if you need anything, just give me a call. My number is on the kitchen counter, along with the Wi-Fi password. Oh, you’ll find that your cell signal isn’t great up here. It’s better if you go out on the deck.”

  “That’s not ideal,” he says with a sigh and pushes his hand through his hair, but then shrugs a shoulder. “But we’ll figure it out. I couldn’t get UberEats to find any restaurants on my app earlier.”

  I laugh now, delighted with him.

  “No UberEats in the boonies, Mr. Stone. But my offer for dinner tonight still stands if you like. I’ll be in the Ponderosa unit again. You’re welcome to join me.


  He thinks it over for a moment and then nods. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I lead him back down to the kitchen. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day.”

  “Jenna.”

  I turn to see him standing there, tall and broad, his hands in his pockets again as he watches me with those wary blue eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “My name isn’t really Flint Stone.”

  “I know.” I open the door and then turn back to him before shutting it behind me. “Have a good day, Christian.”

  The smirk on his face is the last thing I see before I close the door and walk back to the Ponderosa. Snow is falling again in huge, light flakes that stick to my eyelashes and hair.

  I love it.

  I walk into the tree house and sigh. Man, we did a number on the place last night. You’d think we were back in college.

  I grin, ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work cleaning up.

  It was so worth it.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?” I ask Max as I stir the pasta and keep an eye on the marinara I’ve had simmering all afternoon. I wipe my hands on my red apron as I shift back and forth between the boiling pasta and the simmering red sauce.

  “Calling you,” he says, his voice dry. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making dinner. I offered to feed my tenant tonight since the restaurants don’t open up here until tomorrow.”

  “That was nice of you,” he says with a sigh.

  “Why did you just sigh like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re irritated or disappointed or something.”

  He laughs, and I put him on speaker and set the phone down so I can butter the bread with two hands. “I’m not any of those things. I just think you’re too nice sometimes. It’s not like she couldn’t come to town to have dinner.”

  “It’s a he,” I reply absentmindedly.

  “Come again?”

 

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