Harlequin Presents: Once Upon A Temptation June 2020--Box Set 1 of 2

by Dani Collins

  She took his hand in hers—her thumbs moving over the calluses there that it had taken her years to understand he got from performing the acts of physical labor he preferred to a gym membership—and moved it to her belly.

  And he had done this so many times before. It was the same surge of love and wonder, sweetness and hope. Disbelief that she could make him this happy. Determination to do it better than his parents had, no matter what it took.

  He was already better, he liked to think. If his grandmother could see him now, he was sure he would make her smile. And maybe even his grandfather, too.

  “Again?” he asked, grinning wide enough to crack his own jaw.

  “We really should do something about it,” she said, her eyes shining. “It’s almost unseemly. But… I just don’t want to.”

  He pulled her to him, marveling as ever at how perfectly and easily she fit in his arms. “Angelina, my angel, if you wish to have enough children to fill this entire castle, we will make it so.”

  She laughed, her mouth against his. “Let’s not get that carried away.”

  And he kissed her, because the future was certain.

  That wasn’t to say he knew what would happen, because no man could. Storms came. Sometimes they took more than was bearable. Sometimes they left monsters in their wake.

  But he was not alone anymore.

  He had Angelina, and together, they made their own light. And Benedetto knew that no matter how dark it became, they would find a way to light it. And with that light, they would find their way through.

  They would always find their way through.

  And all the while they would stay here, in this ancient place where they’d found each other. When the tide was low, they would welcome in the world. There would be laughter in the halls, and deliciously creepy stories about disappearances both centuries old and more recent.

  But soon enough the tide would come in, and the castle would be theirs again.

  Like their heart made stone and cared for throughout time, they would love this place. They would love each other and their children. They would choose light over dark, hope over heartache, and they would do what no other Franceschi ever had across the ages.

  They would make Castello Nero a home.

  Their home.

  And he kissed her again, long and deep, because that was how forever happened when it was made of love—one life-altering kiss at a time.

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781488059575

  Claimed in the Italian’s Castle

  Copyright © 2020 by Caitlin Crews

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  A coldhearted billionaire

  And the innocent to tame him!

  The moment he spotted Ella Riding, Roman knew she would be his. Unworldly Ella was his grandfather’s ward, living the life Roman had been denied. Ignoring his guilt at letting her fall for and marry him, he believed his revenge was faultless…

  Ella may be naive, but she’s no pushover. After discovering Roman’s lies, she can’t pretend their passion-filled marriage never happened. Instead, she’ll challenge him. Roman might see himself as a big bad wolf, but she knows he could be so much more…

  Dear Reader,

  When I was asked if I would rework a fairy tale for a Harlequin Presents series, I knew immediately which one I wanted to do. Admittedly when I was a child, my mother would read Tolkien and Douglas Adams rather than the Brothers Grimm, but I’ve always loved the tale of Red Riding Hood. The imagery is so striking—dark forests, red flowing capes, glowing yellow eyes peering out from the shadows. Staying on the path, veering off it, temptation, danger, empowerment… All of these things are deliciously irresistible to a writer!

  Whether it was the traditional tale of the little girl outwitting the wolf with the help of the huntsman and saving her grandmother in the process, retellings like Angela Carter’s or the film and TV adaptations, I was always drawn to the wolf. Was he bad or misunderstood? Was he the villain, or could he possibly be the hero?

  And that’s what I wanted to explore in Taming the Big Bad Billionaire. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

  Happy reading!

  Pippa xx

  Once Upon a Temptation

  Will they live passionately ever after?

  Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a billionaire—or eight! Each billionaire had riches beyond your wildest imagination. Still, they were each missing something: love. But the path to true love is never easy…even if you’re one of the world’s richest men!

  Inspired by fairy tales like Beauty and the Beast and Little Red Riding Hood, the Once Upon a Temptation collection will take you on a passion-filled journey of ultimate escapism.

  Fall in love with…

  Cinderella’s Royal Secret by Lynne Graham

  Beauty and Her One-Night Baby by Dani Collins

  Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight by Natalie Anderson

  Claimed in the Italian’s Castle by Caitlin Crews

  Expecting His Billion-Dollar Scandal by Cathy Williams

  Taming the Big Bad Billionaire by Pippa Roscoe

  The Flaw in His Marriage Plan by Tara Pammi

  His Innocent’s Passionate Awakening by Melanie Milburne

  Taming the Big Bad Billionaire

  Pippa Roscoe

  Pippa Roscoe lives in Norfolk near her family and makes daily promises to herself that this is the day she’ll leave the computer to take a long walk in the countryside. She can’t remember a time when she wasn’t dreaming about handsome heroes and innocent heroines. Totally her mother’s fault, of course—she gave Pippa her first romance to read at the age of seven! She is inconceivably happy that she gets to share those daydreams with you all. Follow her on Twitter, @pipparoscoe.

  Books by Pippa Roscoe

  Harlequin Presents

  Conquering His Virgin Queen

  Virgin Princess’s Marriage Debt

  Demanding His Billion-Dollar Heir

  The Winners’ Circle

  A R
ing to Take His Revenge

  Claimed for the Greek’s Child

  Reclaimed by the Powerful Sheikh

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  For anyone who ever got goose bumps when they heard, “Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.”

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘Always stay on the path,’ her grandmother had said. ‘For bad things lurk in the woods…dark things, monsters and wolves.’

  But Little Red Riding Hood didn’t listen to her grandmother because she didn’t believe in fairy tales. Deep down, she knew that the most dangerous stories were the ones we told ourselves.

  The Truth About Little Red Riding Hood

  —Roz Fayrer

  IT WAS THE smell of coffee, as strong and bitter as his quest for vengeance, that usually heralded the beginning of Roman Black’s day, not damp earth and tree bark. It was the richly carpeted floors of his office that he usually stalked at this hour of the morning, not the crunch of twigs and leaves.

  The noise felt overly loud, as if the attempt to be stealthy had made him clumsy. But if there was one thing Roman Black was not, it was clumsy. Every thought, every move, every action had always held one purpose for Roman, and one purpose only. And finally, after years, the end goal was now within his grasp.

  Ahead of him Dorcas, the dog he had acquired for the express purpose of his visit here to the Occitaine region of France, loped with huge, graceful strides, occasionally stopping to cast a curious glance at its new owner, or to ferret out some invisible treasure at the base of a large tree.

  Twelve hours ago, Roman had received the vital information that revealed his quarry had left a party on the outskirts of Moscow and returned to France to visit an ailing relative. Nine hours ago, he had arrived in France himself and took up residence in a small villa barely three miles from here. Seven hours ago he’d been interviewing for a canine companion at the local dog shelter—for what was more predatory than a single man alone in the woods? Let alone a man of Roman’s imposing stature.

  No. He had planned for this. He had worked out every possible variable. He needed to look, at the very least, non-threatening. Admittedly, he had thought to find something small and fluffy, perfect to lull his prey into a false sense of security. But Dorcas had been sitting there in the grey concrete cubicle, watching, as if she had known from the very beginning that he would come to get her. And whilst an Irish wolfhound was neither small nor fluffy, one look at her and Roman had not been able to stand the thought of such a glorious creature trapped in a cage. If he had been a more self-aware man, if, perhaps, he had had anything on his mind other than vengeance, he might have understood his decision better.

  But as Roman stalked through the trees on his first reconnaissance of the woods where he knew he would find his prey—maybe tomorrow or the day after—he allowed himself to imagine the moment that victory would be his. That finally, after almost twenty years, he would make the old bastard pay for what he had done.

  It was a sweet feeling, almost euphoric, rushing through his mind. Sublime in the sense that everything he’d ever wanted was nearly his, yet could easily be taken away at any moment. And it was while he was lost in that delicious imagining that Roman first laid eyes on his prey.

  He stopped short. His breath stolen from his lungs.

  For there she was, walking through the forest at this ungodly hour of the morning as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of his mother’s favourite fairy tale. His eyes snagged on the black ball gown visible through the opening of a scarlet velvet cloak. The hood had fallen back to reveal the creamy swanlike curve of her neck, framed by tendrils of blonde hair that had escaped a complicated plaited knot. She was exquisitely beautiful. He’d known that, of course, from the photographs and extensive research he’d had his people compile. But nothing had prepared him for the effect of seeing her in person.

  His swift gaze crossed her features back and forth, hunting for a blemish or flaw, but none were detectable beneath the overall impression of perfection. His pulse thrummed as he took in high cheekbones that perfectly framed an oval-shaped face, high arched brows that gave as much space as possible to large cornflower-blue eyes. Desire wound through him, as unwelcome as it was fierce, and he cursed this unexpected weakness within himself. The delicate arms holding the cloak against her waist looked almost vulnerable and for a moment he debated whether to stop, to turn back. But he knew he wouldn’t.

  She looked impossibly innocent—no sign of the hard edges that he had been forced to develop by her age of twenty-two years. How that had been achieved under the guidance of such a monster as Vladimir Kolikov he simply couldn’t fathom, and as such cast it aside as an impossibility. Her beauty, her apparent innocence, was simply fancy dressing around one thing and one thing only.

  The key to his revenge.

  * * *

  Exhaustion had settled deep into her bones and Ella barely knew where her feet were stepping. But years of summers spent walking the forest that bordered her grandmother’s cottage had left the path indelibly inked on her mind and body. Her grandmother. Ella’s heart ached, worry and grief twisting in her chest like a living thing. She had been at a party in Moscow when she’d received the phone call informing her that her grandmother had been found unconscious at the bottom of the stairs in her cottage and taken to hospital. Ella’s mind had gone instantly blank and if it hadn’t been for her guardian she didn’t know what she would have done. He’d arranged for a car to retrieve her from the birthday party of the British Ambassador to Russia, a private jet to fly her to an airfield just outside of Limoux, and another car to take her to the hospital.

  If any of the hospital staff had thought it odd that she had arrived dressed in a ball gown and velvet cloak, none had said as such. The doctor had explained that her grandmother had suffered a broken hip and fractured shoulder from the fall but the knock to her head had been what had worried him the most. Strange medical terminology, stretching her usually quite good hold on the French language, had made her want to shake the man and demand he tell her that her grandmother was going to be okay. But after nearly thirteen hours in the hospital, Claudette hadn’t yet regained consciousness and the medical staff had ushered Ella out of the building to get some rest. And to change. Because if she’d looked dishevelled when she’d first arrived, Lord knew what she looked like now.

  When she’d asked the taxi to stop on the other side of the woods, she’d given no thought to her clothing. Instead she’d wanted to make her way to her grandmother’s cottage on the path that felt achingly familiar and yet strange and unknowable at this time in the morning. But the hems of the cloak and dress had dragged along the floor, soaking up the damp earth, making them impossibly heavy. As the material caught on twigs and thorns, Ella felt as if she were battling something physical, not just emotional, on her journey back to her grandmother’s.

  She pulled up short, wanting to wrench the damn thing from her shoulders, wanting to wail and shout and cry all at once. She forced herself to breathe in a long, slow breath, in and out. She had almost recovered when she heard the snap of a twig. The hairs on the skin of her arms rose in the early morning air, sending tingles and shivers down her back. Casting a glance around her, Ella’s gaze snagged on something in the dense foliage and she took half a step towards the bush before she saw the gleam of yellow eyes staring at her. Before she could run, the beast crashed out of the tree cover and loped towards her in an alarmingly lazy gait that covered the distance between
them in seconds and, just as it was about to pounce, she closed her eyes and—

  ‘Dorcas, sit!’

  Prising her eyes open, she watched as the massive beast careened to a halt barely a foot from Ella and sat on its hind legs, tongue lolling out of its mouth and a look of almost indescribable happiness at having found something for its master spread across its wolfish features.

  An almost hysterical laugh of relief bubbled in her chest, until it caught there the moment she saw the beast’s owner making his way towards her.

  He was over six feet fall, more lean and lithe than broad, his every step almost graceful as he wove his way through the trees. Ella’s heart thudded in her chest the moment he locked eyes with her, trapping her gaze as easily as the breath in her lungs. Longish dark hair swept carelessly around his head and hung down towards a low brow that appeared almost forbidding. Assessing eyes, squinting slightly against the pale morning sun, were a shocking shade of light blue, almost yellow, as if he shared some kinship with the animal which sat at her feet. Lips that were neither thick nor too thin made her wonder whether they would feel as perfect as they appeared to her… The fanciful thought momentarily startled her before she hungrily ate up what else she could see of him. The sharp edges of his cheekbones and jawline were strong and proud, and Ella’s eyes tripped down to where the collar of his grey linen shirt peeked above a deep rich blue pullover, revealing a glimpse of the hollow that she inexplicably wanted to press her thumb to.

  Ella’s heart pounded in her chest. Never had a man had such an effect on her before. And never had her mind betrayed her with the errant thought that rang through her entire being.

  This man is going to break my heart.

  The shock and sheer ridiculousness of the thought made her shake her head, causing the figure to stop in his tracks. Ella used the brief respite to breathe. Despite his imposing stature, she couldn’t sense any form of threat coming from him.