Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 Carol Marinelli (ebook reader computer txt) 📖

derriere as she put her arms in the sleeves... Then his shirt dropped down to cover it all up and for a split second he hated the garment.

When she turned around, however, he decided he loved it once more—would perhaps even call it his favorite shirt.

The dark blue fabric, which should have made her look washed out, only served to deepen the flashing blue of her eyes and make her white-blond hair shine like silver.

She was truly a stunning creature, what he imagined a Valkyrie might look like, crossbred with a literal star.

Her eyebrows were deep golden blond, highlighting the elegant bone structure of her face. Her lips were sinful—bright coral, lush and carnal. They were a stark contrast to the rest of her untouchable cool beauty. And her nose was long and straight—aristocratic to the bone.

And all of that, coupled with her obvious hatred of her father, meant that when it came to this particular path to revenge, he might even enjoy the journey. Even if it did involve marrying and making love to the daughter of his greatest enemy.

“As you were saying...your father was a real bastard, which brings us to what I was hoping to speak with you about.”

She nodded with a half smile, sitting on the arm of his chair as she did so, and his skin heated, his entire system thrilling as he circled ever closer to the achievement of his goals.

“I have a proposal for you, a way for you to ‘right the wrongs,’ as you say. What I’m asking for is no small commitment, I recognize that, but the wrong your father committed against my family is no small thing, either. What I am asking for requires a two-or possibly three-year sacrifice from you and a great deal of physical discomfort, but afterward, you will be free to go your own, returning entirely to your life as it is now.”

Crossing her arms in from her chest, she lifted an eyebrow. “A great deal of physical discomfort, eh? You’re not selling this well.”

Drake laughed, the sound starting as a low rumble in his gut and rising out of his reach and deep until his eyes watered. Wiping them at the corners, he shook his head. “Oh, it’s nothing that women don’t go through all over the world every day—I just want you to be the mother of my children.”

CHAPTER THREE

HEL’S MOUTH DROPPED OPEN.

It made her look like a fish. Roz, her childhood etiquette tutor and lifelong ally, had drilled this into her. She knew it like she knew her name, and yet there she was.

The man before her certainly kept her on her toes, that was for sure. He threw her off balance with an ease that no one but her father had ever been able to achieve.

He was gorgeous and tragic and dangerous and everything the angry daughter of a wealthy man could ask for when it came to flipping her father and family legacy the bird—everything she might have conjured up for herself, late at night in her room as a young girl, as yet powerless to stand up to her autocratic parent.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore, and while this thrilling man and his thrilling and indecent proposal were a temptation the likes of which her thrill-seeking heart might have leaped at earlier in her life, she had grown into the kind of woman that realized her responsibilities were more important than her desires. And if she was tempted in a way a part of her was ashamed of, she could at least find comfort in the truth of that fact, because she certainly wasn’t finding it in the words she had to say.

“I can’t,” she said, though her mouth fought the words the whole time.

He smiled, and the smile was as entrancing as her first look at him had been. She had never had this reaction to another human. Yes, she had been wild and reckless in her youth, but it had all been for show. She hadn’t been attracted to anyone she’d made sure to be photographed with, just like she’d never actually gone out with any of them. Though the scandal had suited her narrative, the reality had been the obvious truth: she had been too young for that kind of thing.

Later, in the Volunteer Corps and later in the military academy, she had been too busy for it. And then she had been a royal guard and her job made it too risky. Then her father had died and her vow had put an end to even thinking about it. Until this shockingly magnetic man had dropped into her world out of the sky and brought desire to the forefront after it was far too late to do anything about it.

For the first time since she’d made it, she regretted her vow. Not the actual making of it—that she stood by—and not because she wanted to take it back, but because she’d had no idea what she’d been giving up when she had. Promises made in ignorance required keeping no less than those made in full knowledge, but if she’d known men like him existed in the world...

His voice was its own lure, warm like an embrace, confident in its assuredness that it could change her mind. “Of course you can’t. It isn’t done. You don’t know me. What would people think...? But ignore that, ignore them. Think instead of what your father would think. Think about how angr—”

As much as she loved to imagine her father angry, she held up her hand to stop him where he was. “I can’t,” she repeated, her voice low and earnest. “I can’t, because when I went to him as he lay dying, I looked him in his eye and swore to him that the d’Tierrza line would end with me, that there would be no d’Tierrza children to inherit the lands or title and that I would see to it that the family name was wiped from the