The Fairy Tales Collection (EBOOK)

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“Do you have a few minutes to talk, Bennett?” Belle asked.

“Yes, why don’t you come into the house.”

As she followed him up the deck to the patio doors, he was acutely aware of how sweaty and smelly he was. In contrast, she looked cool and crisp in a jean skirt and soft pink shirt. Unlike her clothing from yesterday, the shirt dipped low at the neckline, revealing a deliciously pale hint of cleavage. He clenched his fists and tried not to notice how her long hair fell down her back like a dark waterfall. God, she was gorgeous.

“The back yard is starting to look good,” she said as she followed him into the kitchen.

“Thanks. I like to garden,” he said.

She smiled but didn’t reply, and he poured them both a glass of water. He handed one to her, and his bear growled happily when their fingers brushed. “You’re not wearing glasses.”

She self-consciously touched her face. “Yeah, I normally don’t anymore. I just hadn’t picked up my contacts yesterday, so, you know….”

She took a small sip of water. He searched for something to say as silence filled the large kitchen. “How’s your dad feeling today?”

She closed her eyes briefly before smiling at him. “Hungover, but that’s nothing new. I,” she paused and gave him a heartbreaking look of shame, “I spoke with Dad about your money. He hasn’t spent all of it but refuses to give me the rest.”

“That’s okay,” he said.

“It isn’t,” she insisted. “It’s not okay at all, but I - the thing is - I lost my job yesterday and don’t have much extra money on hand.”

“Mirabelle, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need you to pay me back the money.”

She glared at him. “I don’t need your charity, Bennett.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I just meant that -”

“I thought,” she said, “that maybe I could pay my father’s debt to you in some way other than money.”

An image rose in his mind, one that was darkly inviting and utterly intoxicating. Mirabelle, naked in his bed, moaning and gasping as he buried his face between her pale thighs. He drank the glass of water in four giant gulps. Somehow, he didn’t think Mirabelle would accept his proposal of bringing her to orgasm repeatedly in exchange for her father’s debt. The coolness of the water did nothing to drown the fire in his belly for her, and she took a nervous step back when he raised his gaze to hers.

“What did you have in mind, Mirabelle?” Even he could hear the dark desire in his voice, and he watched as she flushed and the heady scent of her arousal filled his nose.

Oh fuck, she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.
She made a nervous sound in the back of her throat, and his desire deepened when he glanced at her breasts. Her nipples had hardened. He could see them clearly through her bra and thin shirt, and it made his cock stiffen until it rubbed painfully against the front of his pants.

He turned around quickly, staring out the window over the sink and ignoring his bear’s demands that he take Mirabelle to his bed and fuck her repeatedly.

“Bennett?” she said.

“Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to,” she said. “I thought maybe I could do some cleaning for you. This house is huge, and I’m sure after eighteen years of sitting empty, it could use a good cleaning. I could come by every day in the morning and -”

“What will you do for money?” he asked. “While you’re paying back your father’s debt, how will you buy groceries and pay your bills?”

“I… well, that’s nothing you have to worry about,” she said. “I’ll be fine. What do you say, Bennett? I’ll clean your house from top to bottom in exchange for the money my father owes you.”

He didn’t reply, and she took a step closer. “I realize that won’t cover the entire amount, but I’d be willing to do regular housecleaning until you feel the debt is paid off. I could come by once a week if you don’t mind me scheduling it around my new job.”

“Where are you working?”

“Ella’s stepmother owns a cleaning business. I’m meeting her this afternoon about a job, but I’m pretty confident she’ll hire me, and I’ll probably see if I can get some work at the Food Market. As a teenager, I worked there as a cashier, and I’m still pretty friendly with Victor, the owner.”

He whirled around and glared at her. “How friendly?”

She blinked at him in surprise. “What?”

He clenched his hands into fists and swore inwardly at his bear. The damn thing had come roaring forward when she mentioned another man’s name, and he hadn’t been able to stop his outburst.

“Nothing. Never mind,” he said. “I don’t need a housekeeper.”

Her face fell. “Right. Okay, well, maybe we could work out a payment plan then? I could give you fifty dollars a week,” she bit at that deliciously full bottom lip before finishing hurriedly, “with interest, of course.”

He shook his head again, and he could almost taste her frustration. “Bennett, I can’t afford to pay you back the money in full right now. Please, can’t we -”

“Come with me,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“I have something to show you.”


* * *

Okay, so he hadn’t agreed to her plan, and she was maybe panicking a little about how she would pay him the money he was owed, but despite her panic, she was still fascinated by the size of Bennet’s house as she followed him.

“Gosh, this place really is a mansion,” she said.

He shrugged but didn’t say anything. She stared at his broad back. His t-shirt stuck to him with sweat, and she wondered what he would say if she lifted his shirt and licked his back.

Belle! Knock it off!

Right, focus. She needed to focus. Still, that look he had given her in the kitchen and the way he had asked what she had in mind… good Lord, if it hadn’t made her panties soaking wet. What was it about him that made her act like a sex fiend?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s, like, eight feet tall with more muscles than Thor? Maybe it’s the deep voice, dark eyes, or how he looks at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his bed, her inner voice said.

She should be so lucky. She had never once had a man lift her off her feet – they’d probably put their back out if they tried.

Bennett wouldn’t. He’s strong, remember? her inner voice said.

She remembered. She could still feel the imprint of his arm around her waist, the touch of his hand when he cupped her face. A shiver went down her back, and fresh moisture dampened her pussy. What the hell was happening to her?

They were still walking, and she realized she was already hopelessly lost. Ridiculous that someone could get lost in a house, but she’d always had a lousy sense of direction. She wondered where exactly he was leading her. Any deeper into the house, and no one would ever find her again.

No one would hear her screams of pleasure as Bennett pushed that large body between her thighs and finally took what was his. She’d be at his mercy, her body his to do whatever he wanted with and –

Belle!

Sweet mother of Mary, she was frackin’ losing it. Bennett wasn’t leading her to his bedroom. He wouldn’t demand sex in exchange for her father’s debt. Technically she’d known him less than twenty-four hours, but she knew instinctively he wasn’t dangerous, nor would he ever make her do something she didn’t want to do.

What about something you want to do? her inner voice whispered

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize Bennett had stopped until she ran into his broad back. She squeaked in surprise, her hands gripping his narrow waist as she took a deep breath. He smelled good, like a wood fire and crisp autumn days, and she was helpless to stop from burying her face into his damp t-shirt and inhaling again.

“Mirabelle?” His voice was hoarse, and his entire body had stiffened against her.

Her face flaming, she stumbled back. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” he muttered before opening the door. “Hang on a minute.”

He walked into the room, and she blinked when he drew back the heavy curtains, and the sunshine flooded the room.

“Oh – oh my God,” she whispered.

The room was a library – the most magnificent library she’d ever seen. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered every wall, and they were crammed full of books. There was a mezzanine, accessible by a narrow spiral staircase, and more shelves of books lined the second level. The forest green walls and the dark wooden floor gave the room a cozy and secretive feel. A gas fireplace was at one end with a few pieces of furniture, hidden by dusty sheets, in front of it.

“Bennett, this is – this is amazing,” she said.

He smiled. “My mom collected books. She loved to read – like you.”

“How many books are in here?” She traced her fingers across the spines of the books closest to her as he shrugged.

“I don’t know. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to count the books?”

“Sort of. What I’m looking for is someone to catalogue the books in a spreadsheet, as well as assess and research their value. Some of these books are old and worth a lot of money, and I need an accurate monetary value of the library for insurance purposes.”

“You’re asking me to go through every one of these books and find out what they’re worth?” she asked.

“Yes, although I imagine there will be some that you’ll know right away aren’t worth anything.”

“Bennett, this – this will probably take at least a year,” she said.

“That’s fine.”

She stared thoughtfully at him. “So, if I do this, we’re even-Steven for the money my dad owes you?”

“No. There’s more work here than the two grand your father owes me. I’ll pay you an hourly wage. What did you make as a librarian?”

“I was a library assistant and made fourteen bucks an hour.”

“What would you make working for the cleaning company?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. Probably about eleven dollars an hour.”

“I’ll pay you twenty-five an hour,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open, and she blinked at him. “To catalogue books?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’d like it if you worked eight hours a day, five days a week, but you can decide when you want to work those eight hours. I sleep pretty soundly, so if you’re a night owl and want to work at night, I’m fine with that.”

“What about the money my dad owes you?” she asked. “Maybe I could work for the cleaning company the first couple of months until I can pay you back and then work here full time.”

He waved his hand impatiently. “I’ll take a hundred bucks off each paycheque until it’s repaid. What do you say? Will you help me?”

She took a deep breath, inhaling the much-loved scent of old books, before holding out her hand and grinning happily at him. “When do you want me to start?”