Brooklyn Kings Box Set (Books 1-3) by L.K. Shaw
Arranged Marriage
Enemies to Lovers
Forbidden Friends to LoversGet the first three books in the bestselling Brooklyn Kings series and watch these sexy and dangerous men fall to their knees before their queens.
The Devil I Don’t Know – he’ll marry her, but only for the alliance with her Irish family. Or so he thinks
The Enemy in My Bed – he’s captured his enemy, but soon discovers she’s anything but
The Beast I Can’t Tame – he’s loved her from afar, but a family secret comes to light that may destroy any chance he has at her
Certificate of Marriage.
“Sign.” He holds the pen up in front of me.
I stand frozen, unable to move. With my signature, everything is final. There’s no undoing any of this.
I can’t do it.
There’s a flash of movement and then blinding pain. Tears spring from the impact of Grand-da’s hand across my face again. On its heels is a roar of rage. I turn my head in time to see my grandfather pinned against the wall, clawing at my husband’s hand wrapped around his throat.
“I don’t give a fuck how powerful you think you are. If you ever touch my wife again, I’ll slit your throat and bury your body where no one will ever find it. Do you understand?” he growls.
Grand-da’s face is turning deep purple. He manages a short nod…and my husband releases him. He coughs and chokes and desperately tries to suck in air. Utterly disregarding the man gasping for breath, my husband turns, and in a blink, he’s standing before me. He towers over me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. A shadow of brutality lingers in his eyes. He reaches out, and despite myself, I flinch…again. He merely picks up the pen my grandfather dropped and holds it out to me.
“Our marriage is a business arrangement, so I understand your being opposed to it. Neither of us wants this, but one thing I can promise is that I will never lay hands on you in anger.”
I shiver at his gruff tone. Wait. If he doesn’t want to be married to me either, then why did he do it? My eyes travel over his shoulder to latch onto my grandfather, who’s still rubbing his neck and glaring at me. Next they move to the massive man who remains lurking in the corner. He’s staring at Grand-da. His continued silence and steely glare unnerve me. There’s an alert readiness in his body, as though he’s waiting to dive into action and defend his boss. At last, I turn my gaze back to my husband who’s still holding the pen in his hand.
I take him in again. His dark hair is swept back off his forehead, his eyebrows a sharp slash over eyes that bore into me. A chill dashes across me at their intensity, and I could almost lose myself staring into them. They’re the color of my father’s favorite cognac. Despite the ferocity he displayed only moments ago, they seem almost gentle now.
In a move that surprises me, I reach out and take the pen. Our hands brush. Before I change my mind, I scribble my signature on the line above my printed name. I can feel my husband’s eyes on me. He takes the pen from my fingers, his skin gliding along mine. Goosebumps travel up my arm. Confused over my reaction, I hastily take a step back while my husband—Emilio—signs his name next to mine.
He rolls up the certificate and tucks it into the inner pocket of his suit. It’s final. I’ve signed my life over to a stranger. A man who, only moments ago, showed me how brutal he is. Despite his promise, I don’t know if I can trust him.
Dear God, what have I done?
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