Bellamy Price has just been offered the job of a lifetime: lead contractor on the restoration of the mysterious and sprawling Killington Estate. If she meets the owner’s ridiculous timeline, she’ll finally make a name for herself in this male-dominated industry. But when she rolls up her sleeves, slips on her suspenders, and shows up at the crumbling mansion, Bellamy finds the estate very much occupied.

After a traumatic car accident that left his parents dead and himself injured, Oliver Killington, heir to the Killington empire, took up residence as the grumpy caretaker of his grandfather’s mansion. None too pleased by the presence of the hammer-wielding woman who’s moved into his house, Oliver tries to block her at every turn.

But when Bellamy discovers Oliver’s facing his own ultimatum from his grandfather, the two form a cautious truce, which leads to flying sparks that are definitely not from faulty wiring. As Bellamy restores the gleam to the Killington Estate, she’ll have to decide if the walls she’s built around herself are worth knocking down to make space for someone else.

Perfect for fans of Tessa Bailey, this clever, steamy debut novel will have readers rooting for this Beauty and her Beast until the very last page."

Excerpt

It was impossible to take my father seriously when he wore onesie pajamas.

“You must drive Philippe.” He made multiple flourishes with his palms, thrusting the keys to his painstakingly restored Mustang into my hand before yanking them back at the last moment. His eyes narrowed. “But please, take care of my darling.”

“‘My darling’ is a bit much.” My fingers curled around the key ring, wondering at what point, in the past twenty-six years, I had become the adult in this dynamic.

Dad shifted the pillow behind his back. “Bellamy, my favorite daughter—”

“Your only daughter.” Only child, if we were going for total accuracy.

He huffed. “True, but I was referring to the car.” Ouch, that hurt, but, well, the man had insisted on naming his car, so not surprising. Who was I kidding? He loved that car more than anything else. Cars were not my specialty, but no matter its monetary value, it was worth significantly more to my dad.

“I still think we should advise them to hold off a few more days, for when I’m feeling better.” His attempt to take a deep breath resulted in a hacking cough, racking through his body and making my heart clench.

“I wheeled you out of the hospital a week ago, Dad. Flu and bronchitis aren’t something you walk off. You need rest, not construction dust and mold.” It wasn’t the first time we’d had this debate. Giving up control had never come easily to him, a biological trait my father had passed on to me. He also happened to be my employer. “I can handle it.”

“I trust you. You learned from the best.” The attempt to puff out his chest merely gave the cars patterned across his onesie more prominence. “You are the daughter of the great”—more coughing— “Maurice Price. We have a history of excellence to uphold.”

But this project wasn’t our typical commission. Restoring older homes was losing its popularity as the uber-wealthy coveted modern builds and the latest technology. Most of our recent clients were local governments or nonprofits. That was the risk of working in such a niche market—we were often one contract away from ruin.

“I promise to uphold our family legacy.” I raised my palm, swearing fealty to my liege while trying, and failing to not roll my eyes. Mostly, I humored him out of relief. The more demanding he became, the better I knew he was getting. Every moment in the emergency room, which felt longer than only a few days ago, I had sat in fear, while my father lay prone, swallowed by the hospital bed. He was on the mend now, but he still needed to finish recovering.

Dad began to fiddle with the heart rate monitor from his bedside table, a gift from his visiting nurse.

My gaze narrowed as I realized the true reason he was willing to hand over the keys to his beloved car, eager to get rid of me. “Let’s not pretend that this isn’t about Nurse Betty.”

A blush immediately developed on his pale, white skin. “Well, she is most becoming.” Dad was a short, portly man, with hair the same deep chestnut as mine. His normally clean-shaven face sported the rough beard he had grown in the hospital.

It was impossible to hold back my groan. “Becoming?” How he had any game at all was beyond me.

“The woman is an angel sent from above.” “An angel sent to keep you alive. Her continued visits now that you’re able to feed and bathe yourself might also be a touch of insurance fraud.” But what was insurance fraud when it came to love? I, for one, would not criticize the person who was going to be checking up on him. Not when I was about to walk out the door myself. Betty could commit all the scams she wanted if it meant Dad would be taken care of.

“Like you said, I’m still a sickly man.” This cough was a bit more forced, his eyes gazing at me in that all-seeing parent way. “You know, this would be a great opportunity to find yourself someone becoming, without your dearest father hanging around. I know how intimidating I can be.” He winked.

That was the last thing I needed, a distraction while I dealt with my first solo project, the one that could ruin us or set us up for life. I didn’t have time for romance, not with Dan’s brush off living rent free in my brain. I eased off the bed, smoothing out the comforter, before pressing a kiss to Dad’s forehead. “All right, I’m going to head out.”

He caught my hand, keeping me at his bedside. “I’m serious, Bellamy. It’s been, what, a year since Dan?”

“Over a year, and I’m fine. This project is too important for me to allow any complications.” I did not need my father to lecture me about dating. “Our career doesn’t exactly lend itself to relationships. I have other goals right now.” Dan was a mistake, a hiccup, one I wouldn’t make again. I had learned my lesson and had remained heartbreak-free since we had moved on to our next project.

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About the Author

Mae Bennett is a hopeless romantic who enjoys imagining and writing happily-ever-afters in her free time. A voracious reader and reviewer of romance books while her cat, King Louis, rules from his throne. She bookstagrams her love of romance novels as @twiceuponabook.