by Blue Saffire
“Yes, boss.”
“That’s what I thought.” He chuckles darkly.
Fifteen minutes later, my back is flat on my desk and I’m panting for the smallest gulp of air, but I’m thoroughly satisfied. Princeton grabs tissue from inside my desk drawer and starts to clean me up.
“Now, I think it’s fair to say that’s a great reason to move back home,” he says with a smile in his voice.
I lift to my elbows and wait for the power to speak. “Maybe. I’ll think some more about it. You may have to give me a few more reasons.” I give him a seductive smile.
“As you wish, but for now let’s get to Mother.”
He fixes the rest of my clothes quickly. When I stand my legs are shaky. He looks down at me with a smug grin. I can only shake my head at him.
“Let’s go,” I murmur.
We enter the conference room to find Ms. Trueman and my mother-in-law. Princeton lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back. I observe him curiously.
I get the feeling that this isn’t a random visit. I turn to look over my shoulder as Megan enters the room carrying a garment bag in her arms.
“I promise I haven’t looked, but mother has informed me that they have gotten the stain out completely. You will be able to wear the gown to our wedding,” Princeton says sheepishly as he watches me for a reaction.
I start to tear up. “Oh my God, my mother’s dress,” I say as my chin wobbles and my lips tremble.
“Yes. I told you we’d get the stain out. Since your birthday is in a few days, I thought this would be a great birthday gift.”
He catches me as I throw myself into his arms and holds me in a tight embrace. He kisses the top of my head. This man has only ever worked to make me happy. I can’t believe this is my life.
“We thought you would be needing this. It was your mother’s as well,” Ms. Trueman takes the crown she gave me out of a black velvet bag. “It seems you misplaced it.”
I love this woman. She’s become so important to me in the last few months. I don’t think I would’ve been able to navigate all of these changes without her. She’s been invaluable to me, and Princeton.
“Wait that was my mom’s?”
“Yes, dear. It was.” She gives me a warm smile.
I turn to Princeton and tug him down to me by his ears to kiss him. I don’t know what else to do with these overwhelming emotions. He smiles against my lips as he returns the kiss.
“So, does this mean we can set a date?” Queen Joy says.
I place my forehead to Princeton’s and nod. “Yes, we can set a date.”
“Are you saying you’re ready to go home?”
I slide down Princeton’s front and wrap my arms around his waist. I relish in the warmth and strength coming off of him. He looks as handsome as ever, even after a quickie in my office.
“If by home you mean that huge castle waiting for us in Fru Fru Palms, then yes. I’m ready to go home.”
“What about this place?” Megan asks.
“Well, I was thinking about giving you a promotion. I trust you to keep things going here.”
She gasps. “Seriously?”
“Yes, our clients trust you as much as they trust me. It’s time you spread your wings. I think I’ve planned my last event for a while.”
“Well, I’m actually here to see if you’d be willing to plan one more event,” Queen Joy says.
“Oh, okay. What kind of event is it?”
She gives me a mischievous smile. “It’s my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding.”
I burst into laughter and Princeton tugs me into his chest, squeezing me tight. He kisses my forehead as I look up at him. The joy in his eyes is contagious. I can’t stop smiling.
“Beauty for Ashes. That’s the perfect way to explain us. Yes, you will definitely have to be our planner.”
“Proposal accepted. It would be an honor.”
Epilogue
Ever After
Princeton
I’ve finally made Cinder my wife. The fire that used to be anger inside me has now turned to passion for her. My Cinder.
I burn for her every day and try to find new ways to bring a smile to her face. However, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this happy.
The beaming smile on her gorgeous face is something I’ll live the rest of my life trying to recreate. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks are glowing.
“I love you,” I say without thinking.
“I love you too.”
I flex my fingers on her waist as I dance her around the ballroom. Ray LaMontagne’s “You Are The Best Thing” plays and I couldn’t think of a better song to say the words I feel. Cinder is the best thing that has happened to me.
“What?” I say as I look at the little smile on her lips. I know that smile, she’s thinking something cheeky.
“Nothing,” she says.
“That isn’t a nothing smile. Tell me.”
“Well, if you insist. I was wondering which room we should make the nursery. I want to pick out new wall paper and a crib when we get back from our honeymoon,” she says.
“I like the room across… wait.” I narrow my eyes at her as her eyes light up. “Are we in need of a nursery?”
“I was never on birth control. You never gave me a chance to tell you that,” she says with a brilliant smile.
I cup her face and kiss her deeply. I love this woman. I could never have asked for a better princess.
The only reason I break the kiss is because our guests stop around us to applaud. I remember that we’re in the middle of our wedding. I look around at all the smiling faces, but it’s the smile before me that takes all my attention.
I look in those brown eyes and my world comes full circle. I exist to be hers. I’ve waited all my life to find my way back to her.
“I love the fuck out of you,” I whisper against her lips as I put my forehead to hers.
“You’re my happy every after,” she whispers back.
Acknowledgments
OMG! This was a cool idea in concept. I wanted to challenge my authors, but ended up challenging me and them. ROTF. This was not easy to do because I didn’t want to tell the same fairy tale we’ve read over and over and I also didn’t want to move away from the original completely. I had to strike a balance and I think I have. I love this book.
Thank you to everyone for being patient with us. Our schedules got all janky right at the end of the project and we had to push it back. We thank you for reading the labor of love that this project has become. Thank you in advance for the reviews, the posts, comments and emails.
Huge shout out to my husband! He now puts up with four of us and not just me. He listened to all of our cries as we worked tirelessly to get this done and always worked on all of our websites and developing our marketing. Heck, the book is out and he will be working to make sure our voices reach as many people as possible. Love him to the moon and back for his support.
Let me stand up and give praise where it’s due! The Lord is with me because life tried to eat my lunch this year and I wasn’t having it. I had to dig into my faith and God reminded me who HE is and who I am. To God be the Glory.
Next! Keep reading. I have a paranormal at the end of this collection. I’m so excited!
About the Author
Blue Saffire, award-winning, bestselling author of over thirty contemporary romance novels and novellas, writes with the intention to touch the heart and the mind. Blue hooks, weaves, and loops multiple series, keeping you engaged in her worlds. Blue is a hybrid author, writing for Sourcebooks as well as her own publishing company, Perceptive Illusions, as Blue Saffire and Royal Blue.
Blue and her husband live in a house filled with laughter and creativity, in Long Island, NY. Both working hard to build the Blue brand and cultivate their love for the artists. Creative is their family affair.
Blue holds an MBA in Marketing and Project Management, as well as a MED in Instructional Technology and Curriculum Desi
gn. She is also an NLP Master Practitioner.
Thank You
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The Broken and The Ugly
Tiya Rayne
The Broken and The Ugly
Wicked Prince Charmings
Tiya Rayne
Perceptive Illusions Publishing, Inc.
Bay Shore, New York
Copyright © 2019 by Tiya Rayne.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Tiya Rayne/Perceptive Illusions Publishing, Inc.
PO BOX 5253
Bay Shore, New York 11706
www.TiyaRayne.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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The Broken and The Ugly/ Tiya Rayne -- 1st ed.
The Broken and The Ugly
Retelling of Ugly Duckling
Dean
At the worst possible time in my life, I look up and she’s there. Gorgeous deep brown skin, with a curvy body and the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. Sienna is like a light in a dark place. A familiar light that I can’t seem to place.
Sienna
Fate is a cruel temptress. The boy I’ve fantasized about since I was fifteen walks into my office in need of my help. Those same gray eyes and beautiful smile, in an all grown up irresistible package. He doesn’t know who I am and it’s for the best. No matter how much he flirts, I can’t go there. I have too much at risk.
Sometimes temptation is greater than we can withstand. Will we be able to walk away when it’s time to say goodbye? Or will our broken and ugly past expose our raw hearts.
Chapter 1
Deja Vu
Dean
“I think I have it now.” I announce as I sit forward in my seat.
The dark brown beauty sitting in front of me rolls her big brown eyes. From the moment I walked into my therapist’s office five months ago, I’ve been having this feeling of déjà vu. I know her from somewhere, but I have yet to put my finger on it.
It’s hard to believe that I could forget a face like hers. Skin the color of milk chocolate. Eyes so bright and expressive I get lost in them a hundred times during our twice a week, hour-long sessions. She has a button nose and lips that I dream about, and those fucking curves. Until I met her I had no idea what the term thick meant, but I get that shit now.
My therapist is fucking hot. Too bad I met her at the worst possible time in my life.
She shakes her head and gifts me with one of her smiles. “Dean, we’ve been over this. You don’t know me, and this isn’t why we’re here.”
I like when she smiles. That one dimple on the left side of her cheek jumps out when she does and those eyes come to life even more.
“Club Mannsfield,” I say, ignoring her protest to my memory game. “My freshman year in college. You said you went to Elon University, right?”
She nods.
“We played Elon freshman year. I remember sneaking out to that club.”
“Wrong again. I never went to clubs in college.” She closes the leather-bound folder that she uses to jot her notes in. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject. Answer my question. You’ll be seeing your wife at the mediation hearing in two weeks; you’re going to need to remember your coping mechanisms. So, what are your resources to cope with your anger?”
Her question wipes the smile off my face. I sit back in my seat running a hand through my hair.
I hate talking about Trisha. Every time her name is brought up, I’m taken back to that day five months ago when I walked in on her fucking that guy in my bed. High school sweethearts my ass.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Dean?”
Her voice pulls me away from my dark thoughts. That’s the problem with having a therapist that’s so good at her job. She always knows when my thoughts take me to that dark place.
I sigh. “I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here.”
She doesn’t get angry like I would if someone had asked me the same damn question a hundred times. She instead smiles, showing off that dimple, and replies, “You’re here because it was court ordered.”
“I punched a wall beside her head. It’s not like I touched anyone. I had a fucking good reason to.”
The fact that I didn’t leave that house without taking someone’s life that day is a mystery to me.
“Though your actions might have seemed justified, they sent you to the hospital with a broken hand, and you scared your wife enough to call the police.”
“Why do you insist on calling her my wife?”
That calm smile stays on her face. “Because she is until the courts finalize the divorce.”
I flinch at that word.
I hate that fucking word. My parents made marriage look easy. Growing up they hardly ever fought. They got married right out of high school, raised three kids, and never once separated. And here I am getting a divorce, as if I’m not enough of a fuck up.
“I still can’t believe this is my life,” I say shaking my head. “Before my baseball career ended, I had so much potential, and now look at me. I’m a washed-up ball player with an impending divorce and a bum leg. I have nothing.”
Her head tilts to the side slightly. She does this every time she’s about to say something prolific that will no doubt have me rethinking my views.
“Why do you sum your life up in two distinct categories? It’s always before your career ended and after. You do know you have a lot more life to live, right?” She smiles at me and it forces one on my face. “I want you to tell me one incredible thing that has happened to you since that day the league let you go.”
I grunt. “Really?”
“I mean it. Give me one thing that happened that made you happy. Something that put a smile on your face for an entire day.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I give her a playful grin. “I met you.”
She laughs and sucks her teeth.
I admit, I’m not in the right mindset or place to be hitting on anyone, but it’s fun messing with Sienna. I enjoy seeing her blush. Although, her blush isn’t as obvious as what I’m used to.
Whenever Trisha blushes, her face takes on a pink undertone beneath her pale skin, but not Sienna. You have to look closely to see her blush. It’s in the way her eyes light up, or the shy smile that spreads across her face. Those are the things I enjoy the most about our visits. Learning all the things that
make her, her.
“Nice try, Dean Anderson.” She looks down at her watch and I already know what’s coming next.
“Time’s up?” I ask, a little disappointed.
I wasn’t shitting about meeting her being the highlight of my life lately. How fucking pathetic is that?
A few years ago, I could’ve walked into a room and had any woman I wanted. I wouldn’t even have to open my mouth. Women went crazy for Dean Anderson, pitcher for the Seattle Redfins. Now, I’m that guy with the busted leg that used to play baseball.
“Yep. I’ll see you one more time before the mediation and then you’re cleared from me.”
My stomach tanks at her words. I knew the day was coming. When the court ordered me to these mandatory anger management sessions, I couldn’t wait to hear those words, but now, now they don’t sit well.
“I want you to have the answer to that question by then.”
I nod, but I’m not ready to answer that question. The only way I can cope with this anger inside me is seeing her face twice a week. I don’t know what the hell I will do when our time is over. I have no fucking coping mechanism, but I can’t tell her that. Or maybe I can, maybe that will make her extend my time.
I stand to my feet. Even though the pain in my knee hurts like a motherfucker from sitting down too long, I don’t let her see it. I have to keep some of my pride. She heads to the door in front of me as I slowly limp over toward her.