Romance Nora Roberts Novels & Stories

She reached for her robe, then grinned and hung it back on the hook. Nora flicked out the light and padded barefoot down the hall to her bedroom. She felt her thighs rub together, her breasts swing just a little from the weight, and felt the nipples stiffen in the cooler breeze of the hall. The thought of her nephew waiting for her in her bed, with his eight inch cock raised like a flag pole in anticipation, and with the knowledge that he was about to thrust that hard member into her, was the greatest thrill she had ever experienced. It caused the moisture droplets to collect on her pink inner and outer lips. She hadn’t been this excited on her wedding night. Nora waited for a moment then sl

But I could not be the reason these people lost another home. So I gave Prince Marcus equal courting time. He refused to allow me to be alone with Ronan if I wouldn’t be alone with him. Which meant that my dates with Ronan were chaperoned. Because I did not want to be alone with Prince Marcus. I did not trust him at all. Nora volunteered to be the chaperone for me and Ronan, although I could tell that the vampires terrified her. Ronan did his best to charm her and set her at ease. I don’t think it worked very well.

The man was already trembling, trying to talk his way out of whatever fate awaited him. Nora leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. She did not announce her presence immediately. She watched silently what he was going to do with the man next. Finally, she spoke. “Want a hand, Robert?” He glanced over his shoulder, meeting her gaze. His expression did not change, but she caught the flicker of an emotion. “You should not have followed me here.” “Well, here I am now,” she replied, stepping closer. “And curiosity kills cats.”

“I’d be offended if you did.” They stood there, snow falling softly around them, two enemies pretending not to feel the strange pull crackling between them. “You’re a widower,” Nyra said suddenly. Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “Don’t.” “She died three years ago,” Nyra continued, her tone softer now. “I know.” Silence stretched. “You did your homework,” he said. “I always do.” Another pause. Then she smiled again—dangerous, teasing. “Relax, Volkov. I’m not here to kill you. It’s Christmas.”

"If you open it, you can delete me. You can delete the estate, the wealth, and the name. You can go back to being 'Christina Wilder' in a studio apartment." ​He stepped closer, his face inches from hers, the moonlight catching the silver at his temples. "But if you wear it... you stay here. With me. Not as a character, but as the woman who conquered the man who built the world." ​The "Billionaire Romance" was at its peak. The choice wasn't between life and death anymore; it was between The Ordinary and The Extraordinary. The Third Guest ​Nora looked at the box, then at the man who had become her mirror. The intimacy was a trap, but it was a trap she had helped build.

I needed to see who was picking her up. ‎Minutes dragged on, my breath fogging the window. Then a car pulled up, a black Porsche, sleek and screaming wealth. My stomach twisted as the driver stepped out. Mikhail Romanov. Tuxedo sharp, blonde hair tousled, looking like he owned the night. Nora stepped out seconds later, the gown clinging to her like a weapon, her red lips catching the streetlight. He froze, staring like she’d stolen his breath. They spoke, too quiet to hear, but his hand on her back as they got into the car was possessive, too close. My jaw clenched. Nora was mixed up with him? Our boss, the man who ran half the city’s shadows? And she kept it from me? ‎Anger burned, betrayal

For just a second, I caught a glimpse of pain flickering across his face before it vanished behind his usual icy facade. "The wedding's next month," he said. "Nora needs a bridesmaid." Nora Hunter. The girl who had shown up out of the blue three months ago, 20 and all sunshine with her blonde hair and blue eyes, clueless about the shadows in the world. Francis had welcomed her into the mansion, showered her with jewels, and paraded her around at every high-society event. Francis kept whispering sweet nothings to me, even as he was gearing up to marry someone else.

I shook my head again, pulling my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as if to hold myself together. Mira watched me for a long moment, her expression a mix of patience and pain. “You don’t have to talk right now. But I’m here when you do.” She stood, stretching her arms above her head. “How about we do something normal? Escape for a bit? Want to watch a movie? I just downloaded that new rom-com everyone’s raving about, the one with the quirky bookstore owner and the grumpy artist.”

The soft click of Sienna's heels echoed through the marble lobby of Cole Enterprises as she stepped out of Damien's sleek black car. The reporters positioned outside fell silent. Cameras flashed instantly, their flashes capturing every moment of this budding fake romance that was already causing quite a stir. Sienna had dressed the part perfectly. A scarlet dress clung to her curves, endorsed by her smokey eye makeup and rich crimson lips. She exuded the aura of a woman in control- as if she hadn't just weathered a heartbreak a month ago.

I stood there and watched—watched as Chloe put on my wedding dress. She looked at herself in the mirror, her hand covering her mouth as she sobbed quietly. "Mickey, this feels like a dream. Pinch me. Please. Am I dreaming? Am I really wearing a wedding dress... for you?" His eyes were full of affection, but he held himself back. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, laced with longing and tenderness. "Yes, you are. Rose... you're beautiful." Chloe's eyes turned red as she looked up at him, hope flickering like flame.