Fairy Tale Husband, Book #1

• Cowboy Romance
• Marriage of Convenience
• Forced Proximity
• Sweetly Passionate Contemporary Romance

Married by Midnight!
You’re invited to a wedding . . . your own!
Come to the Cinderella Ball single . . . leave happily wed.

The Cinderella Ball is the chance of a lifetime for individuals to come together to find their special someone. Their one and only. Their soul mate. Obtaining a ticket isn’t easy, but for those select few, it offers the chance at a lifetime of happiness.

Lone wolf, Jake Hondo has lived his life on the outside. An outcast. A bastard. Now he has a shot to change all that. In order to secure his inheritance, all he needs is to wed and bed a woman. Any woman. After that, he and his bride can go their separate ways, which is exactly how he wants it.

Kind-hearted waif, Wynne Sommers, longs for happily-ever-after, love at first sight, and knights in shining armor. The Cinderella Ball offers her all of that . . . and more. All she needs is the right man to accept that her love comes as part of a “package deal,” a package that includes her young niece and nephew.

But as much as Wynne longs for love, Jake wants nothing to do with the unwelcome emotion. Or so he thinks until his new life is threatened. Will he be able to save his family from the forces marshaling against them? Or will he lose everything—his home, the children he’s sworn to protect, and the woman who’s become the most important person in his life?

Married by Midnight!
You’re invited to a wedding . . . your own!
Come to the Cinderella Ball single . . . leave happily wed.

THE moment Wynne saw him, she knew she’d found her knight. If she hadn’t already believed in love at first sight, she would have in that instant. He stood tall and broad and indomitable against the dusk-filled November sky, everything about him suggesting Prince Charming, fairy castles, and happily-ever-afters all rolled into one.

He was, as far as she could tell, perfection.

She first noticed him as she approached the “palace,” a huge mansion that rose out of the Nevada desert like a great white beacon of hope. He stood in the center of the flagstone walkway, taking in the whimsical, wedding cake design of the house with an expression of cynical disdain. Clearly he considered the overall effect pretentious.

She considered it a dream come true.

Not that she’d hold his attitude against him. Heavens, no. The man she married needed to be in touch with the real world, to have a tough, no-nonsense edge. He needed to be a match for Mrs. Marsh.

She slipped closer hoping to get a clear look at him. As though accommodating her, he turned slightly so the floodlights lining the walk stabbed across his face, revealing in brutal detail every austere plane and angle. What she saw stopped her cold. This was no Prince Charming boldly blocking the path, but a Prince of Darkness.

The man might have been hewn from solid rock, as starkly beautiful and as fatally dangerous as the desert surrounding them. Hair as black as coal swept back from a broad furrowed brow and framed high, arching cheekbones and a firm, squared jaw. His features were too bold to be called handsome, but she didn’t mind. The harsh, craggy planes appealed to her.

He looked down then, as though surprised to find her at his side, and lifted a dark eyebrow. She caught her breath, captured within the austere glare of his bright golden eyes. “Getting a jump on the competition?” he asked, his voice reminding her of the rumble of distant thunder.

She tilted her head to one side. “Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for a husband, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then run along inside, elf. I’m no one you’d want to marry.”

He was accustomed to instant obedience, she realized. She suppressed a smile. He’d soon discover she didn’t skitter away at the first flash of lightning or crack of thunder—for that’s what his expression reminded her of, the threat of a fast approaching storm. “I need a strong man. You look strong,” she said instead.

“I need a wife to share my bed. And then, after a brief-as-possible marriage, to go away.” He folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that what you want, too?”

“I want a man who likes to win,” she said, evading the question. “Someone who’s a fighter.”

“You waging war?”

She frowned, considering. “I guess you could call it war. All right, yes. I’m waging war. But I also need someone fair and reasonable and patient. A . . . a gentle warrior.”

He laughed at that, amusement lightening his eyes, but doing nothing to ease the hardness of his features. “You have the wrong man,” he stated and walked away.

She watched him go, taking in his easy, long-legged gait, not in the least surprised when people quickly made room for him, giving way to the stronger force. That was how he’d be with Mrs. Marsh, she didn’t doubt for a minute. And though he claimed he wasn’t fair or reasonable or patient, she suspected he lied. Oh, not deliberately. He wasn’t the type. He just didn’t see his own goodness.

But she did.

“You’ll do,” she whispered with a wide grin. “In fact, you’ll more than do.”