Once Upon a Fairy tale: A Collection of 11 Fairy Tale Inspired Romances

by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney

“Not without a security detail. There’s a window in that bathroom.”

  “But I have no clothes on.”

  “That doesn’t reassure me one bit.”

  Sandy struggled against Marco and he lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist, wrestling her down onto the bed. He flipped on top of her and pinned her, the sheer weight of him holding her firm against the mattress.

  And giving him a delicious opportunity to savor the softness of her body.

  “Being big has its advantages.”

  He watched a smile creep across her mouth, lighting up her pretty features and sparkling in her hazel eyes.

  “Big muscles will get you but so far.” Her eyes narrowed, and she did something with her fingers that caused a stab of pain to spike through his gut. He flinched aside, and she almost escaped.

  But not quite.

  “That was a dirty trick. Didn’t work though, did it?”

  Sandy bit her lovely pink lip and looked up at him shyly. “Sorry.”

  “Where did you learn that, the Marines?”

  She shook her head.

  “The CIA?”

  “No.”

  “The mob?”

  “Not the mob.” She actually paled a bit.

  “You’re so darn secretive I don’t know what to make of you. I wish you’d just lay your cards on the table.”

  Did he? Part of him wanted to plumb her mysteries and be done with it. But part of him loved the tease, the wondering, the speculation about who she was. What she’d done that made her so afraid to let him into her life.

  And there was the element of fear, too. What if her past did contain a secret that was truly devastating?

  Unforgettable.

  Unforgivable.

  He remembered she needed to use the bathroom. He rolled off and let her go. Didn’t take his eyes off her for a second as she walked gracefully across the floor, long limbed and lovely, into the tiny bathroom.

  God, she was beautiful. And passionate. Sensuous and tender, a natural lover. Not experienced—that was obvious, but in no way an impediment to their mutual pleasure.

  He’d slept with women who knew every trick in the book, but no amount of studying the Kama Sutra compared with plain old-fashioned good loving. And she’d given him plenty of that.

  Marco groaned softly. He was becoming hard again. He just couldn’t get enough of this woman.

  She was probably climbing out the window right now wrapped in a hand towel. And he didn’t even mind. If she took off again, he’d find her. Track her down and love her.

  He was in deep.

  Lust was the curse of man. It drove him into the arms of women he should run from. Exposed him to the claws of gold diggers, hustlers, social climbers, and those who simply wanted to sleep their way to the top.

  All in the name of love.

  Now loving was the joyous act of mating. Of joining up with a fellow human in a blissful experience of togetherness. The union of bodies, and maybe even a little nudge of souls, a brief flare of the kind of closeness he couldn’t stop craving. This kind of loving was good in its own right. It was enough, and he’d learned not to expect more.

  Sandy emerged from the bathroom wearing a white cotton kimono that stopped at the middle of her thighs. Her curls framed her face like a halo, and Marco struggled with a sudden urge to bury his face in their soft caress.

  “I don’t have any food for breakfast, except oranges.”

  “I could eat you.”

  “I won’t stick to your ribs.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He lunged forward and tackled her around the waist, pulling her back onto the bed with him. “Maybe you will if I hold you tight enough.”

  Sandy chuckled. She wriggled on top of him, teasing. He was still hard. “I can tell you’re a man of insatiable appetites.”

  He tickled her and she giggled. He nipped her ear, kissed her quickly on the cheek. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Their lips melded into yet another sensual kiss that made Marco’s whole body sing with joy. He didn’t want to get out of bed. Getting up would mean the night was over and their relationship was moving into some new and unpredictable phase.

  He still hadn’t managed to unveil much about the elusive Sandy.

  “Why did you call yourself Alexandra Alma when we went out on our date?”

  “I didn’t want you to figure out I worked for you.”

  Marco chuckled. “I probably wouldn’t have figured it out anyway. I don’t memorize the employee listings.”

  Sandy winced. “I was sales rep of the month four months ago. I wasn’t sure if that information made its way up to you.”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t. But wait a minute here—my sales rep of the month quit on me?” He rolled over until he was on top of her, pushing her down into the bed. Desire spiked through him as he enjoyed her lush curves under his body. “I don’t think I can afford to lose you as an employee. Will you come back to work for me?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Her face was suddenly serious. Her hazel eyes glittered with apprehension that twisted his gut.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Who knew how this would end? All Marco knew was he didn’t want it to end. Not yet.

  “Sandy, would you do something for me?” He rolled off her and stroked her gently through the thin robe. He couldn’t get enough of the softness and warmth of her body. Of the way her whiskey gaze made his heart swell.

  “Depends what it is.”

  “Well,” he hesitated. Suddenly the idea seemed crazy, but he couldn’t resist asking anyway. “It’s my dad’s sixtieth birthday this weekend. My brothers and I are going over for dinner. Will you come?”

  “Oh, no, no, I couldn’t possibly….” Her eyes widened with alarm.

  He supposed it was a lot to ask. He was never too crazy about “meeting the folks.” It implied some kind of commitment. But damn it, he wanted some kind of commitment with Sandy. He wanted to get their relationship on some kind of “normal” footing—at least for a couple of hours—to reassure himself that it wasn’t all a wild and wonderful dream. And maybe if she met his family she’d see him as a person, not the boss.

  “It would mean a lot to me. My dad would like it, too. He’s always after me to find a nice girl and I know he’d like you.” His brothers would, too. Who wouldn’t?

  He could see she was considering it. “It’s just dinner, not a big party or anything.” What on earth was going through her head? Her eyes searched his face, her lips parted, she looked away, then she looked back at him.

  “Okay.”

  “What were you thinking?” Sandy looked at herself in the mirror as she applied lipstick. “Dinner with his family? Are you nuts?”

  But being asked had touched her deeply. Gosh, dinner with the family. As if she were his girlfriend.

  She swallowed hard.

  Get a grip, Sandy. You’re not his girlfriend. He doesn’t know anything about you. That’s the reason he asked you.

  But that wasn’t entirely true any more. He’d seen the real her, and not only did he notice her, but he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  She struggled to suppress a smile. What a night…

  He knew where she lived. Not the greatest of neighborhoods but not the worst either. He didn’t seem at all put out by her small apartment. They must have made love on every surface in it.

  She blushed at the memories. Marco was insatiable. And apparently so was she. At least when it came to him.

  And that was part of the problem. This wasn’t just an innocent flirtation anymore. She was falling hard for him. The way he smiled when he held her tight made her heart squeeze. His touch was so gentle, yet so assured.

  And when he looked at her—really looked at her—the smoky depths of his eyes darkened with emotion; the boundaries of the known world shifted and she found herself drifting out into unknown territory, rudderless, awed and frightened by the strangeness and beauty of it all.

  If she c
ouldn’t leave him alone after one date, how was she going to forget him after lying in his arms all night? After having dinner with his family?

  Conchita had said she’d never speak to her again if she didn’t go. Sandy had pointed out that might be a good thing.

  “Trust me, chiquita. I understand these things. He’s a good man.”

  That’s exactly the problem. She couldn’t say that, though. Her sweet fairy godmother knew nothing about her criminal record. “I’ll go, but don’t expect anything, okay?”

  Marco had promised to send a car for her. He was headed to his father’s house straight from the airport after a business trip. She glanced out the window and saw the long black sedan waiting outside and swallowed hard.

  She knew that how she managed this evening—an ordinary family dinner—would impact her view of herself and her future. For better or worse.

  Was she ready to step out into the world of ordinary, law-abiding, honest people? Was she was even ready to make friends?

  She hurried downstairs and climbed into the limo, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. She wiped them anxiously on her flowered dress as she shot a nervous smile at the driver.

  “Forty-seven Gloria Terrace, right?” His weathered face was scored by the deep wrinkles of a heavy smoker. And looked oddly familiar. “Hey, Sandy Riley!”

  Oh, God. She recognized him, too. He was one of her father’s old ex-con buddies. He flashed a grin at her and his name came to her immediately: Joey “the teeth.” Named for the gold front teeth he’d once had. A surge of nausea made her clutch at the door handle.

  “It is Sandy, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “What are you—?”

  “Doing driving a car?” He laughed. A raucous clatter of a laugh that ended in a spasmodic burst of coughing. “Gotta earn a crust. No one seems to want an old man with emphysema in on their game. Had to go legit. I sure wish your old man was still around. He was the best.”

  Sandy shut her eyes.

  “You okay, Sandy?” She nodded. He coughed again. “What are you doing mixed up with those Danielis, anyway? You don’t want to run a scam on cops. That’s asking for trouble.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. He looked old. “I’m not running a scam on anyone. I’m just—I’m just—What do you mean cops?”

  “You don’t know? Old man Danieli is a captain up here. Hey, lucky you ran into me ain’t it? What’ve you got cooked up, anyway?”

  So Marco’s dad was a cop. Why did that make her feel like she was guilty of something? She needed to stop feeling like a criminal when she was just a regular person these days. “I don’t have anything cooked up, Joey. Never have. I couldn’t stop my dad from breaking the law, but I have a job. I earn my money.”

  “Me too, now, more’s the pity. Not too much of it, either. You telling me you’re going there on a social visit?”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her dress again, now with really sweaty palms. A social visit. With a police captain and his sons? Her eyes instinctively closed again. The urge to retreat into her own little private zone was overwhelming.

  “You seeing one of those boys? Nice kids. I like ’em all, but don’t tell ’em I said so. And don’t tell their dad what I used to get up to.”

  “There’s no danger of that. Can we go?” Before I lose my nerve. What frayed thread of it I have left.

  “Sure, Sandy. Geez, it’s good to see you again. You kind of dropped out of sight there.”

  “Intentionally. I’m trying to build my own life now, and being Ralph Riley’s kid isn’t exactly a glowing reference.”

  “He was a good man, Sandy. He loved you. He did the best he knew how.”

  “Then why couldn’t he stop drinking? Why couldn’t he stop gambling? Why did he have to go and die in prison?” Tears stung her throat.

  Ugh! She thought she was past this.

  Losing her dad still hurt so much. She was so sure he’d be able to turn things around, that as an adult she could help him rebuild his life. She’d just graduated from high school, she planned to get a job and support them both while he got a handle on his addictions. But he couldn’t say no to one more stupid con game. Even when he knew he’d never survive another stretch behind bars.

  If he’d loved her he would have tried harder.

  “I’m sorry, Sandy.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Joe was gabby. One reason he was a lousy crook. By the time they pulled up outside Gloria Terrace in Newark, she knew far more than she needed to about the comings and goings of the North Jersey underworld and its denizens. Not exactly the kind of information you want spinning in your mind as you sit down for dinner with a police captain.

  Your juvenile record is sealed. You have a clean slate now.

  You’d never know it from the way she flinched like a lab rat with an electrode if she saw a police cruiser in her rearview mirror or when a beat cop strode in her direction. Guilt must be built into her DNA.

  And there was a cruiser parked right outside the house. Tilted at a rakish angle on the sloping driveway.

  She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She was planning to run a con, wasn’t she? To convince the Danielis into thinking she was an ordinary girl.

  Maybe she’d take it one further and try to get them thinking she was a “nice” girl. Not someone who’d grown up sleeping in the back rooms of bars and on the floors of other people’s apartments. Hiding from the authorities who’d take her away for good if they knew her dad was locked up for another six months and her mom was long gone.

  The cruiser took up most of the narrow driveway and she had to squeeze past it to get to the front door. A glimpse of steel handcuffs lying on the backseat made her stomach clench. Her heart thundered and her pulse pounded painfully in her temple as she rang the bell.

  You’re doing it, Sandy! You’re brave enough not to run away.

  She struggled to control her breathing as she listened to footsteps on the other side of the door. Marco opened it. At the sight of his broad smile, a wave of relief washed through her. Marco didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

  “Come in.” Grinning, he surveyed her from head-to-toe. “What a vision. You look lovely.”

  “Thanks.” So do you, she thought. In a black cotton shirt tucked into faded jeans, he was irresistible.

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek, the way he’d done on their first date. Again her skin warmed under his touch, filling her with optimism and a sense of renewal. When she was with Marco, nothing seemed impossible.

  He settled his hand at the base of her spine as he guided her though the narrow hallway into a brightly lit living room packed with people.

  “Okay, so there are a few more people than I thought,” he whispered in her ear. His smile tickled her neck. “Come meet my dad. I’ve told him all about you.”

  A stab of alarm chilled Sandy to the marrow. The startled glance she shot him caused Marco to raise his eyebrows and chuckle. “Okay, not everything.” He winked. “Just the usual stuff, you know.”

  No, she didn’t know. She had no idea. Maybe where she lived, what she did, that kind of thing? She took a deep breath and unconsciously smoothed her dress as Marco led her though the throng of chattering people.

  “Hey, Dad, this is Sandy Riley, the girl I told you about. Sandy, this is my dad, Vic Danieli.”

  “Hello, Sandy. Nice to meet you.” The elder Danieli was a big man with a shock of pale gray hair and the same steel toned eyes as his son. Sandy shook his hand with as much conviction as she could muster. She’d never shaken hands with a cop before. She’d been arrested by one, but that wasn’t quite the same.

  “Hello, Mr. Danieli,” she forced out, in a voice barely above a whisper. At that moment she was saved by the merciful arrival of a very large, very loud woman who hurled herself at Danieli senior and kissed him on both cheeks.

  “Vic! Long time no see!” The newcomer quickly monopolized his attenti
on.

  Marco slipped his arm around Sandy’s waist and led her back through the crowd. “Quite a turnout tonight. I didn’t know the old man had so many pals.”

  Half of them probably cops, thought Sandy with a suppressed shudder. Upholding law and order.

  Nothing wrong with that. She had nothing to be ashamed of, not any more.

  Marco took Sandy into the kitchen where he introduced her to his two brothers, both tall and raven-haired like Marco. Danny, the youngest, was stuffing himself with homemade appetizers as they approached. “This kid never eats unless he’s got someone feeding him. Struggling artist and all that.”

  “I’m an architect, Marco.”

  “Same difference.” He winked at Sandy as Danny sparred with him playfully.

  Marco’s older brother, Steven, wore a police dress uniform, which once again made Sandy’s heart seize with unwarranted terror as she shook his hand. “Sorry I’m decked out,” his eyes twinkled with humor as he murmured his apology. “I got stuck with a fancy function tonight that I couldn’t get out of. Thought I’d come over and get some of Aunt Louisa’s home cooking before I headed there.”

  He seemed nice enough. Maybe most cops were just ordinary people with a job to do? Marco’s face beamed as he watched her chat harmlessly with his brothers about the stadium Danny was designing, and whether the Mets or the Yankees were having a worse summer.

  “Come upstairs,” he whispered in her ear after some minutes of conversation. “I’ll show you my old room.”

  Sandy giggled. She was a little jumpy, but she was actually enjoying herself. Marco surreptitiously slid his hand to her backside and gave it a quick squeeze as he pushed her gently toward the stairs. The sensation of warmth it created made a blush rise to her face.

  “I hope no one saw that,” she chastised, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “So what if they did? Admiring the female form is no crime.”

  “Groping it in a crowd of your dad’s friends might be.”

  “I’m a grown man. I can grope with impunity.” And to prove it, he goosed her as they turned the corner on the stairs. Scandalized and aroused, Sandy leaped to the top of the stairs, laughing. Marco dashed up after her and grabbed her hand. He pushed open a door at the top of the stairs, and pulled her in.