Beauty and the Billionaire: A Dirty Fairy Tale Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

  Faking For Her Sample

  One Hot Daddy Sample

  Billionaire Bad Boys - The Complete Series

  Caught Off Guard

  Exclusive - Untamed!

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Beauty and the Billionaire

  KIRA BLAKELY

  This isn’t your kid’s fairy tale, and I’m no ordinary beast.

  Years of killing in the military have hardened me, scarred me, making it impossible to give a shit about relationships.

  Then comes along Belle Fontaine. The innocent virgin daughter of the man whose company I want to buy. She’s twenty-four and drop dead fucking gorgeous.

  I always say love at first sight is for pansies, but she has me second guessing that.My cock stands to salute her the moment she walks into my office.Purchasing her father’s company is more of a mercy buy for me, but she tries to get more than it’s worth.

  Wrong move.

  Now, I will make it… hard… for her.

  The only way I will buy the company is if she agrees to come to my private island for one month.

  I’m sure she’s heard the rumors about my secret room. I can sense her fear and desire.

  Whips and chains aren’t the only secrets she’ll discover.

  This steamy fairy tale contains BDSM, and the beast will surely win over the beauty.

  Chapter One

  Drake

  I sauntered into the room expecting another bullshit merger discussion, but instead saw the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid eyes on. My cock instantly jerked to attention.

  Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t wanted for women in my life. But I’d never seen one as enticing as the brunette sitting beside Maurice Fontaine at the head of the table. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with both intelligence and intensity, her round breasts filled out her blazer nicely, and her soft, cream-colored skin looked like it would feel like satin under my touch.

  I was the head of the most successful PR firm in Los Angeles. There was no one from Brad Pitt to Emma Stone who didn’t come to me when they needed to take control of a story. If your career was going down in flames, I was the guy to fix it with the right public relations massaging. With my public relations and multimedia talent came billions by the time I was thirty, especially after the company’s IPO. It was how I’d become known as the Sultan of Spin. And it was how I had every woman in L.A. and some far beyond it ready and waiting for me.

  I strode to my seat at the opposing end of the table and sat down. Shaking hands was customary, but that wasn’t the tone I wanted to set. This was a mercy killing. Fontaine Media Relations had once been the premiere public relations firm in Hollywood, but it’d been over two decades since they could make that claim. Maurice was once a legend in the business, someone who’d navigated the sharks swimming in La La Land long before I’d started high school, let alone enlisted. But that was then. The old man hadn’t kept up with the times and had bungled the social media age badly. Now they were bleeding out, and I could buy them out, dismantle what I needed, and move on.

  Easy, simple.

  Calling this a merger meeting was truly too kind.

  “Maurice,” I said, then nodded to my lawyer, who promptly delivered the papers to the older man. It was then that I realized a second woman sat beside the aging, balding former PR wizard. She had the same figure as the girl with the bright blue eyes and shared the same long, brown hair. The resemblance was uncanny. Were they sisters? I just wasn’t sure which of the two women was Belle and which was Carol. I’d read all the dossiers on Maurice’s firm. I always knew who I was doing business with, but the sisters were similar enough that in person, it was a toss-up as to who was who.

  Except those eyes. Only the girl on Maurice’s left had those blue eyes that hadn’t left mine since I’d walked in. My dick was straining against the fabric of my slacks, and I was glad for the wooden conference table between us. I needed some way to obscure everything. Something about her caught my attention, something I wanted to explore far more than over a conference table.

  What is it about you?

  Maurice threw the folder down in front of him. The girl on the right scooped it up and scanned it as well. She pursed her lips back at me, and a dull grimace spread over her face.

  “This offer isn’t enough,” she said

  I cracked my knuckles and eyed her. Oh, so was that the game? Was this daughter Daddy’s Little Ball Buster? Maurice would take the first volley but the girl with the green eyes would play bad cop? They must have made blue-eyes the good cop.

  “Your company is dead. Forty cents on the dollar is generous. No other firm in L.A. will touch you, and if one was crazy enough to try, they’d offer fifteen cents.” I leaned forward, going in for the kill. “You need me far more than I need you. If you sign this deal, you get to keep a few things, and Maurice, you and your daughters can stay on as executives at the combined entity after the merger. This is the best you’re going to get. Sign.”

  “My dad built this company with his blood, sweat, and tears for over thirty years,” Blue Eyes said in a voice so quiet that it could have been a whisper.

  “And you are?” I asked.

  “Belle,” she supplied.

  “I can see why,” I countered. “You’re certainly beautiful.”

  Her blue eyes shone like sapphires back at me. “Mr. McManus, let’s keep this professional.”

  Highly unlikely.

  I steepled my hands in front of me. “I am being professional, Belle. This is the best offer your family will get. Your father… your family’s entire company needs this. You just sign, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “It’s an insult to everything he’s built, and you know it. He has name recognition still, and that’s why you’re buying us to begin with. To only offer forty percent of what it’s worth… we were thinking around eighty,” Belle replied.

  I snorted. “And perhaps you’d like ponies and a new Maserati and who knows what all else? Seriously, this is reality, Belle. You might be great at putting out press releases, but you have nothing to negotiate with. Even sitting down with your family at all was a courtesy. Your firm is dead in the water. So sign.”

  The other girl shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Daddy’s pit bull, indeed. “I can think of other things to do with the deal. Certain places to shove it.”

  “Carol!” her dad shouted.

  I had to chuckle at that. Neither of Maurice’s daughters was over thirty, both so naïve, but one was all about fairness and the other was threatening to shove my deal up my ass. That inability to accept change and reality as it was certainly hadn’t served Maurice well, had it? Pity to see it in the younger generation. Then I watched Belle’s frown, those downcast eyes of hers.

  Something pinged in a heart that had felt long dead, something I couldn’t explain.

  “Well, I can see we’re
at an impasse. However, I’m not completely heartless. There might be something I could do,” I said.

  Carol glared at me and arched an eyebrow, but she at least had the sense to stay silent.

  Maurice leaned forward. “What would that be?”

  I could see the beads of sweat dotting his lined forehead. The old man hardly had a poker face, but he was in dire straits. Then again, that was the time you had to dig deep and show the bastards no mercy. He’d never make it on the front lines, just like he hadn’t made it in business.

  “I want to offer a month of extended negotiations. We have a long way to go to meet at what we need. I’d like to have Belle come with me to my estate in the Bahamas—I already had a vacation set up there—and we can go through all the details there.”

  Her head shot up, and I loved her flushed cheeks, the way her eyes darted out like a panicked rabbit in a trap. Smart girl, you know how dangerous I am already, don’t you?

  “What?” Belle asked.

  I shrugged. “I walk now, and you get nothing, or Belle comes to negotiate with me in the Bahamas. That’s hardly a chore.” I stood then and nodded to my lawyer to recollect the contracts Maurice had perused. “You have forty-eight hours to call me back about this. If I hear nothing by Friday, then I’ll assume you’re passing on everything.”

  Maurice stood and shook his head, his cheeks turning an ugly purple shade. Old man needed to watch his blood pressure, that much was obvious. “You can’t just… I know the things you do, Drake. I’m not sending any daughter of mine to your private island.”

  I held up my hands to feign my innocence, but I couldn’t keep from smirking. He was right about one thing. There were favors I wanted from Belle, bonuses that would sweeten the negotiations, none of which would make her father happy. After all, there was a reason I didn’t invite Maurice for the extended talks.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Maurice.”

  Carol narrowed her eyes. “How dumb do you think we are? No way. Belle stays here.”

  Belle’s eyes widened, and it struck me that she had been so innocent that, until now, she hadn’t considered the chance we’d get up to anything other than business. How cute. Straightening her jacket and skirt, she blew past me, even as her composure seemed to crumble. That sent my instincts running wild. It was a chase now, a pursuit. It had been so very long since I’d met a woman who didn’t just fall into my arms and eventually, my bed. Belle Fontaine was someone different than all those other women I’d had, and I craved something real for the first time in years.

  I didn’t say anything as I strode out of the conference room, trusting my attorney would handle all the details. Instead, I rushed into the elevator, making it just before the doors shut. Finally, I had access to Belle alone for a few precious minutes as we rode down to the ground floor.

  “You left a bit early, princess,” I said, my voice a low rumble. I was deliberate in every action, and I damn well knew what made women wet, what I could do to manipulate them. At least, it had always worked before.

  While Belle blushed again, she kept staring ahead at the button panel. “You think you can just buy anyone you want, don’t you, Mr. McManus?”

  “I’ve never had trouble before, baby,” I replied, smirking at her.

  “Maybe you’ve never met anyone with integrity before. It’s a little hard to find in Los Angeles.”

  I hummed in agreement. “But that’s not really it,” I said, turning to her and stroking her cheek. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “You see,” I continued, leaning in lower and getting close enough to almost kiss her, to take the beginnings of what I wanted. “Everyone has a price, princess. Everyone. I learned that long ago. We all have what we want, and it’s always a question of finding out what that is.”

  “And exploiting it,” she said through gritted teeth.

  I kissed her then, finding her lips clamped tight but still letting her get a taste of my own. Pulling away, I grinned at her again. “Maybe, but that’s how the world works. You choose what prices you pay, and then you live with the fallout. You’re what? Twenty-two, fresh out of college?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  Christ, still so young. Everyone thinks they have it all figured out at that age, don’t they? Wait till her thirties hit.

  “Well, you’re still idealistic. There’s time for that to be beaten out of you.”

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “And you want to be the one to do it?”

  Oh, you have no idea.

  “I’m offering your family a way out, an olive branch after they shit all over my fair offer. You, Ms. Fontaine, only have to reach out and take it.”

  At that, the elevator arrived on the ground floor and I headed out, leaving the princess to think about her options.

  Chapter Two

  Belle

  “Belle, honey, I think you should go to the Bahamas for the negotiations.”

  My dad’s words slapped me across the face. The last thing I wanted was to be near Drake McManus again, let alone dragged off to his private island estate for God knew what. No, I wasn’t that naïve. I might have been inexperienced in a lot of ways, but I wasn’t dense. Drake McManus might have some legitimate negotiations planned, but I knew damn well what he really wanted. The whole trip was a setup for seduction and sex, which was crazy because he dated the new Hollywood “It” girl for about two weeks before moving on to the next. Drake was the ultimate in “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” and I’d just be another notch on his bedpost if I agreed to go to the island with him.

  Then again, a traitorous heat flared in my belly. Something about him still called to me. Yes, he was an arrogant, entitled jerk, but so were three-quarters of the men in L.A. on a good day. But he was so handsome, with that rugged scar over his eye—an old war wound his files had said—and those coffee-colored eyes that seemed deep, like an old soul going through the motions. There was more to Drake, that much I could feel, and I wasn’t sure why he worked so hard to keep up his bad boy walls.

  That didn’t mean I wanted to be alone with him on an island. I wasn’t interested in negotiating in that way, not now, not ever.

  “Dad, are you insane?” Carol asked.

  Good, at least my sister hasn’t drunk the Kool-Aid.

  “Exactly. We all know what else Mr. McManus wants,” I said.

  My dad sighed and ran a hand through his thinning, white hair. “I don’t want to ask this at all. I never would, but if the company completely goes down and we’re cleaned out for debts… we can’t afford medical insurance, let alone scrape enough together for the experimental treatment your mom needs. This was my Hail Mary chance to help buy your mother’s way into a trial at City of Hope. I just… I can’t lose her.”

  Carol and I both hugged our dad, getting into a huddle, as if that would stop all the pain that kept assaulting our lives, as if we could work against all the damn chaos that kept infecting it.

  “Dad, I can’t. I know Mom’s sick, but this is too much. If I go to his island, Mr. McManus is going to expect me to do a lot more than sign papers.”

  Dad nodded and sat back down at his desk in our home office. “I know, and it was a momentary bit of weakness. We can take the offer he has and see if there are experimental trials with lotteries or other set ups.”

  Carol agreed. “I’ve been looking into some alternative lung cancer treatments, and I know a few holistic shops around here that have great supplementary options. We’ll take what we can to save the company, and we’ll do our best to find what we can for Mom.” She turned her head and looked toward me. “Besides, the last thing Mom would want would be for Belle to do something dangerous.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think Mr. McManus is dangerous, it’s just...he’s not exactly trustworthy.”

  Carol shook her head as if to say “baby sisters” and then said, “That’s close enough to the same thing. Look, we’ve gotten through a lot in the last few years, and we can get through more, whether Drake
McManus pays us what our company’s actually worth or not. Don’t do something you’ll regret forever, Belle. It’s not worth it.”

  I put a hand over my father’s shoulder and squeezed. I wasn’t sure I would regret it if I could get Mom the treatment she needed to save her life. There were still options for Stage Three lung cancer, but since her diagnosis, Mom had been unresponsive to treatment and been upgraded from two to three already. I was living in terror of the day she’d end up at stage four, let alone when she’d…

  No, I would not think like that. Mom was going to live, damn it. She had to.

  “I know. I just wish we had other options.”

  Dad sighed, and I tried to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes. “Sometimes, there just aren’t any.”

  ***

  “You are in luck. Who else would bring you the best in Chinese takeout and all of the tabloids you can stand? Plus, I stopped by the Redbox and rented a few current films. Are you ready for some Chris Pratt or are you ready for some Chris Pratt?” I joked, setting my loot down on Mom’s bedside table.

  She’d been moved into her own room a few months ago, and now had a hospital-style bed, the kind that could be adjusted with the touch of a button. How Dad financed that, I don’t know, but I had noticed he had stopped wearing his wedding ring. It turned my stomach to think he’d have to pawn things just to pay for the necessities that made Mom’s life easier. It didn’t seem fair. Of course, nothing in life had ever been guaranteed to be that way in the first place.

  Mom sat up straighter in bed, and I tried to keep my usual, sunny smile on my face. The first round of chemo was over, and now they just had to wait and see if she’d have to start chemo again in the next few months. We’d been hoping to do the experimental medicine instead in the interim. It seemed a better bet. Still, the chemo had worked its course and now Mom just seemed so much older. Her skin was tissue-paper thin, her bones seemed to protrude now that she’d lost weight, and her bald scalp was covered with a stylish, colorful silk scarf.

  I hated what was happening to her, hated seeing her slip away. Hated that the best chance we had was out of our damn grasp.