The Beast's Fake Marriage (Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book 5) Read online

  The Beast’s Fake Marriage

  A Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book Five

  Bree Livingston

  Edited by

  Christina Schrunk

  The Beast’s Fake Marriage

  Copyright © 2018 by Bree Livingston

  Edited by Christina Schrunk

  https://www.facebook.com/christinaschrunk.editor

  Proofread by Krista R. Burdine

  https://www.facebook.com/iamgrammaresque

  Cover design by Bonnie Paulson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Bree Livingston

  https://www.breelivingston.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  The Beast’s Fake Marriage / Bree Livingston. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN: 9781074024604

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek! The Ranger’s Chance Chapter 1

  Sneak Peek! Her Pretend Billionaire Boyfriend Chapter 1

  Other Books by Bree Livingston

  About the Author

  I’d like to dedicate this to you, my readers. You’ve blessed me this year in more ways than you’ll ever know. I will forever be grateful for you, and I hope to continue to write stories you look forward to and love.

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  Chapter 1

  With a slight turn to the mirror, Isabeau Daniels glanced once more at her reflection. Sunlight glinted off the corner, making it look as if she had a yellow ball of light pinned in her strawberry-blonde hair. “This skirt makes me look…I don’t know…”

  The light-blue blouse complimented the heather-gray skirt, and she had to admit, it did show off her legs. Which was something she’d avoided the last eight months. Showing off anything was too scary.

  “Izzy, you look fine. This job will be good for you, and it’ll give you peace of mind to know you’re working behind a huge fence with a gated entrance,” her best friend, Kelsey Harris, said. The bed where she perched squeaked as she shifted from bracing with one hand to the other.

  “What if he gets out? What if they can’t hold him again? It’s happened before.”

  Kelsey’s eyebrows drew together, and she gave Izzy the same sad look as she had the last five months since Izzy had moved in with her in Dallas. “This time is different. He’s going away for good. Isn’t that what the DA told you? They’ve got solid proof this time.”

  Izzy’s hand moved to the scar hidden behind her button-up blouse. “He did, but Steven has a great lawyer.”

  Pushing off the bed, Kelsey stood behind Izzy, her lithe frame filling the rest of the small over-the-door mirror. “I’m not trying to push you before you’re ready, goodness knows I’m not, but this man has taken too much from you for too long.” She smoothed the shoulders of Izzy’s blouse and smiled. “I want to see you full of life again. You are one of the kindest, most loving people I know, but…you’re just a shell now.”

  Isabeau turned to Kelsey as tears pooled in her eyes. “I know. It’s just hard.”

  Kelsey pulled her into a hug. “I know, Izzy, but think of this as starting small. The only way to move past what happened is to stand up and walk. You just have to make it through today. Not tomorrow or the next. Just today. One foot in front of the other. Just one step.”

  That was easy to say when a monster wasn’t hiding under your bed, in the shadows, and behind every door you opened. But, Izzy also knew she was right. She couldn’t keep giving Steven power over her. All it took was one step and then another…that’s what she used to tell her physical therapy patients before her license expired.

  “I know.” Izzy pulled back. “I can do this, and you’re right. What better job than cleaning a mansion behind a gated stone fence?”

  “Exactly.” Kelsey smiled.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

  “Well, of course, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I enjoy having you around.” Kelsey laughed, and while she tried to hide the strain in her voice, Izzy could hear it. The kind of sound that said her friend was getting tired of dealing with her basket-case best friend and sharing her apartment, even though she’d flatly deny it.

  Five months was long enough to live with someone, even if she’d had no choice. When Steven attacked her, he’d left her hospitalized and needing help just to walk to the bathroom. Leaving Oregon and moving in with Kelsey in Texas was supposed to be temporary. As soon as Izzy was back on her feet, she was supposed to have moved out.

  Izzy needed to get this job so she could bring in a paycheck and find her own place before Kelsey decided she’d worn out her welcome. Her gaze drifted to the clock on her nightstand. “Oh! I need to go. It’s nine, and my interview is in thirty minutes.” She pulled away and took another glance at herself in the mirror.

  “You’re going to knock their socks off. Would you like me to check the car with you?”

  “I think I can do it. It’ll be fine.”

  Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “You know what? I think I left something in my car, so why don’t I just walk down with you?”

  “Okay.” Izzy smiled, appreciating her friend’s kindness.

  They walked out of the apartment, took the elevator down, and stepped off. For a split second, Izzy froze as little beads of sweat lined her forehead.

  “Are you okay?”

  Izzy nodded. “Yeah, it’s just that first step that gets me.”

  “It’ll get better. You’re already so much stronger than you were just a few weeks ago.”

  “Thanks.” Izzy wiped her brow with the back of her hand and continued on.

  When they reached her little black Volkswagen Beetle, she checked the car. “I can do this. I really can,” she said, even as the little voice in the back of her mind screamed run and hide, but she wasn’t going to let that voice win today. Now that her savings were depleted, she had to do something to help pay for the apartment, utilities, and groceries.

  “He’s really locked up this time, huh?” Izzy asked, more to herself than looking for an answer.

  With a smile, Kelsey nodded. “He’s really locked up this time. No more bail, second chances, or any of that. He nearly killed you, and there were witnesses. He’s not getting out.”

  Taking a deep breath, Izzy slipped into the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Kelsey. Thanks for everything. I don’t know what I would have done if you…”
>
  Kelsey touched her shoulder. “I love you, Isabeau Daniels, and you would have done the same for me.”

  “I would.” Izzy smiled and nodded. “Okay, wish me luck.”

  Her friend shot her two thumbs up, and Izzy shut the car door and turned on the engine. As she pulled out of the underground parking garage, she took one last look in the rearview mirror and then focused her gaze on the road in front of her.

  It felt so strange to be on her own after so long, but it also felt empowering. Steven Welch was in prison. She could come and go as she pleased, without worry or fear that he’d jump out at any second. His hold on her life was done, and she was done cowering.

  Thirty minutes outside of Dallas, she pulled up to the keyed gate entry to the Masters’s estate. Now that Izzy was seeing it in person, it looked more like a castle with its two-story stone exterior with turrets on all four corners. It was larger than any home she’d ever seen before.

  She rolled down her window and touched the call button on the keypad. “Uh, hello? My name is Isabeau Daniels. I have an interview today with Rowan Masters.”

  Another one of the reasons she’d felt comfortable taking the job was that Rowan Masters was an attorney with an excellent reputation. No one ever saw him, but everything she’d read online about him pointed to a good man.

  After a minute, a male voice filtered out. “Proceed through the gate. Park to the south of the double wood doors. I’ll be there to greet you when you arrive.”

  “Okay,” she said as the heavy iron gate rolled open just enough for her car to fit through.

  As directed, she drove the quarter-mile driveway, parked where she was told, and approached the door. It was summer, and the warm mid-July breeze kissed her skin.

  A short, portly man stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His gray hair was thick and combed back, and he wore dark slacks with a white dress shirt and a sports coat. He looked like a butler, but she didn’t think he stuck his pinky out when he drank tea.

  “Ms. Daniels?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He smiled and held the door open for her. “Come this way.”

  It was a little dark, but given that, it was okay. There was enough light streaming through the windows that as long as she didn’t have to work too late, she’d be fine. It didn’t smell moldy, musty or dank, just…largely unused. And the silence made her ears ring.

  “Is Mr. Masters the only one who lives here?” she asked. “And is it always this quiet?”

  “Yes, he lives alone, and he likes it quiet while he works.”

  “Okay. I guess it’s a good thing there aren’t a lot of rugs to vacuum.” She smiled.

  The man cut his gaze to her. “Very true.” He stopped and took her hand, shaking it. “I apologize for my manners. It’s been a while since we hired someone new. I’m Ulysses Masters. Rowan is my nephew. Do me a favor and please use my first name.” He smiled.

  She got the impression he was a sweet man, and she returned his smile. “Thank you. Will you be interviewing me?”

  “No, ma’am. Mr. Masters will be doing that, but I do need to warn you.”

  Izzy’s heart skipped a beat. Warn her? Her thoughts immediately went to Steven. “About?”

  “Twelve years ago, my nephew was involved in a car accident which left him scarred. He can be incredibly sensitive, so please try not to stare.”

  Oh, she felt horrible, thinking the man might be like Steven. “Oh, well, I think I can handle that.” As a physical therapist, she’d seen many accident victims. Her heart went out to them, and after her own ordeal, she understood them even better.

  Ulysses stopped in front of a large door and paused. “He was almost seventeen when it happened, and since then, he’s become, shall we say, less than hospitable at times. He’s a good man with a kind heart and gentle soul, but years of interaction with…certain people have left him…withdrawn and hurt.”

  “I understand that,” she said softly.

  The man eyed her a moment and then knocked on the door.

  “Come!” a voice barked. “And make it quick.”

  Ulysses opened the door and let her enter first. Izzy’s gaze roamed the exquisite room. Dark wood, shelves from floor to ceiling filled with books of all kinds with a ladder, like something out of a movie, and muted colors that gave it a warm feel. It felt powerful and welcoming at the same time.

  “Rowan, the new hire is here for her interview. The cleaning position, remember?” Ulysses asked, ushering Izzy to a seat in front of the desk.

  The man’s lips curled into a frown, or what Izzy could see of them. With the curtains drawn and the way the lighting in the room was set up, three-quarters of the man was hidden in shadows. She could partially make out that he had a strong jaw and dark wavy hair that touched his broad shoulders and hid the left side of his face, and he was impeccably dressed in gray linen slacks and a tailor-made dress shirt.

  “Right,” he said and swore under his breath. “I forgot it was today. She’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  Ulysses smiled and walked to him. “It has been put off long enough. The house needs to be cleaned.”

  “I hate this. I hate change. Can we trust her? Did you do a background check as I asked? After the last few, I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Izzy watched the exchange like a tennis match. They were talking about her as though she wasn’t even there. And she knew they saw her. Mr. Masters looked right at her. Still, she needed the job, so she’d sit quietly while they verbally duked it out.

  Ulysses nodded. “Yes, but instead of using just a background check, I think this time you need to stretch yourself and get to know someone. A background check doesn’t tell you everything.”

  Boy, did she know that. Steven Welch was a prominent Portland lawyer. He was from a good family. When the police got involved, nothing about his past had screamed danger.

  Mr. Masters groaned. “Why must you push me like this?”

  “Because your father asked me to.”

  The younger man turned away, but Izzy could feel the mood shift. Sorrow filled the room, and tension as well. “Do you approve of her?” he asked as he turned and leveled his gaze at Izzy.

  Her first thought was that if his bite was anywhere close to his bark, he would leave teeth marks. But as she watched him, she realized he was hurting, and she understood that. What she really wished was that he’d step into the light so she could really see him, but having been hurt herself, she could understand his reluctance to allow himself to be vulnerable to someone he didn’t know.

  Ulysses nodded. “Why, yes, I wouldn’t have asked her in for an interview if I didn’t.”

  Mr. Masters nodded. “Fine, then she’s hired. Now, leave me alone. I have documents that need drafted and delivered before five.”

  “But, you really should interview—”

  With a wave of his hand, he stopped Ulysses from speaking. “She’s hired. Give her a gate code and her hours. Keep her out of here and off the east wing of the second floor.” He turned and busied himself with something behind him.

  Ulysses looked defeated as he sighed. “All right.” He walked back to Izzy. “Come this way. Let me take you on a tour and get you started.”

  “No interview? I got the job?” Izzy asked as she stood.

  “Yes, you’ve got the job.”

  Relief of something finally fulfilled washed over Izzy, and she touched her fingers to her mouth. As she turned to leave, she paused and looked over her shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  Mr. Masters ignored her as he continued with his work. He was gruff, but he didn’t come across as scary, just hurt. She’d certainly dealt with worse while being a physical therapist—and being ignored was nothing she couldn’t handle.

  Ulysses shook his head. “Let me give you a tour of the house, the gate code, and introduce you to Retta.”

  They walked out of the office, and Izzy felt accomplished, like she’d walked a runway and
not tripped. Steven had stolen so much of what made her…her, but she’d taken the first step to collect the pieces and put herself back together.

  Chapter 2

  A knock came at the door, and Rowan kept his gaze on the file he was reading. “Come.”

  The door slowly opened, and the clattering of a cup jerked his attention from the file in front of him. His heart picked up speed as the woman Ulysses had hired almost two weeks ago walked in with a tray.

  “What are you doing in here? Where’s Retta?” He didn’t mean for his tone to come out so harsh, but change often threw him, and the result was usually him yelling. And this change…he’d been completely underprepared for it.

  “Retta said you might be hungry and that I should bring you lunch. She was in the middle of—” She stopped mid-sentence, hurried to the coffee table, and set down the tray. “Enjoy your lunch,” she said and rushed to the door.

  “Wait,” Rowan clipped.

  The woman stopped, keeping her back to him and her hand on the doorknob. “Yes, sir?”

  Her voice was delicate and musical. “Can I help you with something?” She slowly turned and faced him, hands flattened against her thighs.

  He tilted his head as he studied her, making sure he stayed in the shadows to keep her from becoming even more frightened than she already seemed. “I apologize for the harshness in my tone. I don’t…change is…I don’t like it, especially when I’m not prepared for it.”

  Her lips curved into a small smile, and it was so bright it was as if he’d thrown open the curtains in his office. “I understand that.” She cast her gaze to the floor and curled her fingers in her t-shirt, clearly still nervous. “I don’t like unexpected things either. They make me jumpy.”