Beauty’s Daddy: A Beauty and the Beast Adult Fairy Tale (Billionaire Daddies Book 1)
By: Jane Henry
I could have anything I wanted. I wanted her.
Once upon a time….
They call me “The Beast” for a reason. Locked away in my cold, dark mansion overlooking the treacherous cliffs that haunt me, I want for nothing…except her. The moment she set foot in my lair, her fate was sealed. I will claim her, make her mine…
I’ll be her daddy.
He can buy anything he wants. He wants me.
He’s a wealthy, domineering recluse; I’m dirt poor. He’s accomplished and sophisticated; I’m a twenty-year-old virgin. But I can’t say no.To get closer to him, I will sacrifice everything — my freedom, my heart…my innocence. The attraction between us leaves me begging, and when he’s done with me…
I’ll be daddy’s good little girl.
Beauty’s Daddy is a full-length, standalone Daddy Dom/virgin novel, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast with mild BDSM themes and a guaranteed happily ever after.
“I wanted to apologize,” she began, her hands clasped in front of her. She still wore her diner uniform and her nametag.
“You ought to apologize,” I snapped. “First, for ruining a perfectly good suit and second, for allowing your mother to roam the streets unaccompanied. She could’ve hurt someone, or herself.”
“I know,” she began, her eyes pleading with me to understand.
“But if you’d only listen to me. First, bumping into you this morning was an accident, and I already offered to pay —”
“If you were paying attention, you wouldn’t have bumped into me.”
Her eyes now flashed at me in anger. “I already apologized for that. Will you let me continue, or do you intend on interrupting me for the remainder of our conversation?”
I eyed her thoughtfully. She had spunk, this one. I was used to people cowering when I spoke to them, skirting away when I entered the room. Not this girl, however. And her formal trick of speech was oddly…attractive. I leaned against an examination table pushed up against the wall and crossed my arms.
“Go on, Annabelle,” I stated. “You have one minute.”
She started, and my eyes dipped to her name tag. She looked down and groaned, then took it off as she talked.
“My sister was supposed to be supervising my mother, who is not supposed to be driving, but she snuck the car keys and went out anyway.”
“Why shouldn’t she be driving?”
The bravado left her eyes, then, as she looked at me and her voice dropped. “She has early onset dementia. She forgets things, and frequently gets herself in trouble.”
I refused to pity her. I despised pity.
“I see. And she is safe where you have her?” I asked.
She crossed her arms on her chest. “Excuse me, but that’s none of your business.”
Anger coursed through me. This girl had nerve. Did she not know who I was?
“None of my business?” I repeated, getting to my feet, enjoying how she shrank back when I towered above her. “It’s none of my business that your mother plowed into my car, totaling it? She could have killed me, herself, or any other innocent who happened to be in her path. And that car is an Aston Martin, little girl.”
Her eyes narrowed. “She did not hurt anyone,” she said hotly. “She merely hurt your car, and for that I apologize, but certainly a man like you can file a claim? I mean, if you could afford a pompous, showy car like that, surely you can afford insurance?”
I raised a brow at her. “You call that an apology?” I asked, angry now that she had the nerve to come in my room and toss pathetic excuses at me. My palms itched to spank that sass right out of her, to teach her to watch her mouth.
Her gaze flitted away from me for a moment. “It is an apology,” she insisted, as if she just realized the error of her ways.
“Is that right?” I growled, drawing closer to her, so close I could smell the faint citrusy scent that hung about her. “Then clearly you need a lesson in sincere apologies, and it would be my pleasure to teach it to you.” And just like that, the air in the room changed. Desire coiled low in my belly, and the girl looked up at me, an innocent who’d made her way into my lair.
Her hand went to her throat, and she swallowed, her gaze never leaving mine, but when she spoke her voice was husky. “Oh?”
She was fucking aroused.
I took a step closer to her. “Oh.” We were now mere steps apart, so close I could see the little bridge on her nose wrinkle when she shivered, and the pulse beneath the thin skin at her temples. “Lessons in humility,” I said, not caring that I was living up to my reputation as a monster, a man bent on incurring the hatred of those around him with little concern for societal norms or expectations. “Lessons in safety,” I said, stepping even closer to her. “Lessons in obedience.”
She blinked. “I thought we were talking about my mother,” she whispered.
I narrowed my eyes. “And I thought we were talking about apologies.”
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