Novels by Bee_y_kay

Sarah woke to an empty bed and the smell of coffee.She stretched beneath the silk sheets, her body deliciously sore, her mind still hazy with the remnants of sleep. The events of the previous night flickered through her memory—the disastrous dinner, the confrontation with Sophie, Nathan's fierce defense of her, and then . . . the way he had claimed her body afterward, as if trying to erase every doubt with his touch.She smiled despite herself.The door to the bedroom opened, and Nathan appeared, dressed in dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He carried two cups of coffee and wore a smile that made her heart flutter."Good morning, Mrs. Moore.""You keep saying that.""And I'll never stop." He set the cups on the nightstand and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "How are you feeling?""Like I survived a battle.""You did." Nathan sat on the edge of the bed, his hand finding hers. "And you won.""Did I?" Sarah pushed herself up, the sheet falling to her waist. N

Sarah's blood ran cold."That's none of your concern," Nathan interjected smoothly. "Sarah's past is exactly that—past.""Is it?" Lord Moore spoke for the first time since dinner began. "Because, from what I understand, your wife comes with considerable baggage. A disgraced father. A stepmother who despises her. A stepsister who's been spreading rather . . . unflattering stories.""Ignore her," Sarah said, her voice steadier than she felt. "She's always been jealous.""Jealous of what, exactly?" Sophie spoke for the first time, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "From what I've heard, you have nothing to be jealous of. No reputation. No career. No family is willing to claim you.""Sophie," Alexander warned."What?" Sophie's eyes widened in mock innocence. "I'm just stating facts. Sarah here seems to have a habit of . . . attaching herself to men who can provide for her. First Jasper, now Nathan. It's a pattern, really."Sarah's hands clenched under the table."Sophie," Nathan sa

The Moore estate rose from the landscape like a monument to old money and older secrets.Sarah watched it through the tinted window of Nathan's black Maybach, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The car had been silent for the entire drive—not the comfortable silence of two people at ease, but the tense, heavy silence of two people preparing for battle."This is where you grew up?" Sarah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Nathan's jaw tightened. "Unfortunately."The gates swung open, and the car glided up the long, curved driveway. Sarah caught glimpses of fountains, sculptures, hedges trimmed into elaborate shapes. Everything was immaculate. Everything was intimidating."You're nervous," Nathan observed."I'm terrified.""Good." He reached over, his hand finding hers and squeezing gently. "Fear keeps you sharp. Just don't let them see it."Sarah turned to look at him. He was dressed in a dark navy suit that fit him like a second skin, his hair swept back, his jaw clean-shaven.

Sarah woke up slowly with her cheek on Nathan's chest, his arms locked on her waist. For a long, blissful moment, sarah woke up, but she didn't move. She simply lay there, eyes closed, letting herself exist in this strange reality. Her body ached in places she hadn't known could ache, a pleasant soreness that brought back flashes of the night before. His hands. His mouth. The way he had whispered her name like a prayer. Husband. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of how many times she had said that word. How easily it had fallen from her lips. How right it had felt. Behind her, Nathan stirred. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her back against the hard planes of his chest. His lips found the curve of her bare shoulder, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her skin. "Good morning, Mrs. Moore." His voice was rough with sleep—deep and gravelly in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Sarah felt her body respond instantly, traitorously. Her nipples tighten

“Call me husband,” he corrected, his voice a low, unyielding command. His hands slid down to her waist, easily lifting her up onto the edge of the heavy marble dining table. Sarah gasped as he stepped between her knees, trapping her against his hard, muscular frame. Her fingers instinctively reached out to grip the lapels of his white shirt, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs under the sheer weight of his presence. “Husband,” she whispered, the shy breath catching in her throat even as her arms tightened around his neck, betraying how desperately she wanted him closer. Nathan’s mouth claimed hers right there on the edge of the table until Sarah’s last timid protest melted completely against his tongue. He kissed her with a fierce, possessive hunger, parting her lips effortlessly to deepen the touch, taking his time to trace the sensitive roof of her mouth until she was breathless and clinging to him for support. When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her

“Where are we?” Sarah asked, looking up through the windshield at the towering glass structure that seemed to pierce the evening sky. The SUV entered into the private underground garage of the coastal skyscraper, its headlights sweeping across rows of high-end sports cars before coming to a complete stop. “My private residence,” Nathan said, killing the engine of the car. “The apartment next to yours was just a convenient place to stay while I cleared some business. This… this is home.” Sarah’s eyes widened as they stepped into a private, biometric elevator that swept them straight to the top floor. The ride was silent and swift. The penthouse was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls offered a sweeping, panoramic view of the vast, sparkling ocean under the twilight sky. Modern, minimalist furniture lined the main living space, but what caught her attention was the sheer scale of luxury. “Nathan…” Sarah turned to him, thoroughly overwhelmed as she held her breath. “You