Once upon a time, there was a girl named Charlie who had been treated as a princess all her life.

For eighteen years, Charlie’s world was safe and happy and full of love. Then her parents died and left her in the care of a beast.

He wasn’t literally a beast, of course. Simon Shae was a financial advisor who never smiled or loosened his collar. He’d been a friend of her father’s, but he’d never said even a word to Charlie. Just frowned at her disapprovingly, as if he thought her smiles and laughter were frivolous. Since she was of legal age, she didn’t need a guardian, but her parents had made him the trustee of her property and assets until she turned twenty-four, which meant she couldn’t ignore his existence the way she might want.

It was hard enough to lose her parents during her first year of college. She certainly didn’t want a scowling, grumpy asshole to always be lurking in the shadows, prying into her business, and waiting to pounce if she did anything wrong.

For years he guarded every penny of her inheritance, watching it like a hawk and digging in his heels whenever she wanted to splurge just a little. For years he called her every Sunday evening, had lunch with her at least once a month, and gave her all kinds of advice. Eventually her feelings for him transformed from resentment to amused impatience to something closer to understanding. But she always assumed he’d be immensely relieved when he was finally set free of his duties to her.

And then her twenty-fourth birthday finally grew near.

She was living in a pretty town house in Georgetown, but Simon wanted to spend a few days with her so he could go over a lot of financial and legal matters before he turned over to her the fortune in real estate, investments, and assets she’d inherited from her parents. So they both went to stay at her parents’ sprawling estate in northern Virginia for the three days leading up to her birthday so he could teach her more than she ever wanted to know about her finances.

She’d always hated working with numbers, and turning twenty-four hadn’t changed that.

The night before her birthday, she left the house after dark so she could drive into the city and meet her current boyfriend for a date.

It was well after midnight when she returned, and she unlocked the side door she always used and stepped inside to be greeted with the loud blaring of an alarm.

She hadn’t set the alarm when she’d left, so she was shocked and momentarily frozen as she faced the home security console. It was much more complicated than the system she used in her town house, and although she’d previously known the code, she couldn’t recall it at the moment, not when put on the spot like this and overwhelmed by a much-too-loud alarm.

The security system hadn’t been set tonight. Who the hell had turned it on?

She knew the answer to that question, and it made her snarl as she tried punching in the only code that came to mind.

It was evidently the wrong one.

The alarm kept blaring, and Lady Jane, her four-year-old cocker spaniel who had run into the hall to greet her, evidently decided there was a crisis afoot and started barking as loudly as she could at the console on the wall.

“What the hell?” The urgent voice came from the top of the stairs. “Charlie? Are you okay?”

“Damn it, Simon!” she yelled. She was never a quiet person, and at the moment she was louder than usual. “Come turn this damn thing off!”

Simon hurried down the stairs, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, and moved her out of the way so he could reach the console. He entered what was obviously the correct code, and then he pressed a button and spoke to someone at the security company, verifying his identity and assuring them that everything was fine.

After petting Lady Jane to get her to calm down, Charlie stood in the hall with her heart racing painfully, hugging her arms to her chest.

She noticed that Simon was carrying a baseball bat—part of her dad’s signed sports memorabilia that Simon must have picked up from the display in the hallway, evidently to wallop an intruder with.

The image of him knocking out a would-be thief with the bat made her momentarily want to smile.

When Simon finished with the security company, he turned to face her, his dark eyes making an immediate assessment of her tousled hair, stylish red coat, short dress, bare legs, and very high heels.

His expression wasn’t admiring. It never was when he looked at her. Over the years, she’d realized he wasn’t as mean and forbidding as he appeared, but that didn’t mean he’d ever be nice.

Frowning was what he did best.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. He was still holding the bat.

Charlie scowled. She’d been getting along with Simon pretty well this week, but she wasn’t going to put up with that tone from him. She wasn’t a child anymore. “Are you planning to hit me with that thing?”

He blinked and glanced down at the baseball bat he was evidently surprised he was still brandishing. He laid it carefully on the floor. When he straightened up, he was frowning again. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been out. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me that way.”

“I’ll talk to you however I want. Why didn’t you tell me you were going out? I thought you were in your room all evening.”

“Am I supposed to ask permission before I leave the house? You know I’m an adult, right? And this house belongs to me. Am I not allowed to make my own decision regarding whether I stay or go?”

He made a frustrated face and pushed a hand through his hair. His hair must have been almost black when he was very young, but there was a lot of gray in it now—at his temples and scattered through the rest of it. He wasn’t even forty yet, but he’d had gray in his hair for as long as she’d known him. She’d always assumed the gray came along with his ornery-old-man personality. “Of course you can make your own decisions,” he said. “But you could have at least told me you were going out. I thought you were here all this time.”

“I didn’t see you on my way out. You were already in your room. I didn’t think I had to report to you my comings and goings.”

His eyes narrowed like he had something to say about that, but he held back whatever it was. Instead, he said in something close to a growl, “I wouldn’t have set the alarm had I known you were out. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Well, you scared the hell out of me, so I guess we’re even.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm down her still-racing heart. As she did, she realized they were arguing over nothing. She considered herself a good-natured person. She preferred laughing to arguing, and she didn’t like to feel angry or resentful, so she tried not to as much as she could. “I didn’t think about it as I left. I’d have told you if I’d seen you.”

“What were you doing out?”

“I had a date.”

“I see.” He didn’t say anything else. Just stared at her with those very dark eyes that hardly ever softened.

She didn’t know how to read his expression. He was so difficult to get a handle on with his stoicism and reserve. For a long time she’d assumed that look was judgmental, but she didn’t think it was anymore.

He was thinking about her, but his thoughts were deep and hidden. It was frustrating not to know how he felt.

She couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She’d only ever seen him in stuffy suits or equally stuffy casual wear. The man had no fashion sense at all and had no colors in his wardrobe but black and gray. At the moment, she was surprised by how fine his body was since she’d never really seen it before. He’d always been big with broad shoulders and the imposing bulk of a football player, but she hadn’t known his muscle development was so impressive. She hadn’t known his abs were so toned, his arms were so sculpted, his chest was so... masculine.

She hadn’t known he would look and feel so much like a man to her just because he wasn’t wearing his normal clothes.

She hadn’t known she would like the looks of him this much.

“Okay,” she said at last, feeling uncomfortable by her response to a man she’d only ever thought about as a bossy old grouch who might get on her nerves but was always there if she needed him. She didn’t always like him, but she trusted him, and she thought she knew what to expect from him.

She hadn’t expected this.

She swallowed and reached down to stroke Lady Jane’s soft fur before she straightened up and walked toward the kitchen.

Simon came with her. “Are you angry with me?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Your expression is...”

“Is what?” She was immediately worried he’d read something of her visceral response to him earlier.

“I don’t know. I can’t figure it out. But you were angry before.”

“Well, I was startled and flustered about the alarm. I wasn’t trying to sneak out on you or anything. I really didn’t think about it.”

“I understand. So where are you going now?”

“I’m going to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.”

“Why?”

She turned her head to gape at him. “Why am I making hot chocolate?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up just slightly. It was barely noticeable, but she saw it, and it seemed to transform his whole expression. “Yes, why? It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I didn’t realize there was a time limit on hot-chocolate making. I don’t care what time it is. I need comfort, and I want chocolate.”

“All right. Fair enough. Hot chocolate it is.”

He was coming with her, which made her strangely excited. She would have expected him to go back upstairs and hide away in his room.

She’d always thought about him kind of like a bear—prowling around on guard, growling when provoked, or else hibernating in a cave somewhere so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.

She hadn’t expected her bear to drink hot chocolate with her. Or look quite so sexy without a shirt.

When they got to the kitchen, she took off her coat and tossed it over an empty counter. Then she gave Lady Jane a dog treat and heated up milk on the stove. She mixed in cocoa, sugar, and a little vanilla and poured it into two mugs.

Sitting on a stool at the counter, Simon watched her as she worked and accepted the mug she offered him.

She sat on the stool next to him, adjusting her short skirt since it had gotten hiked up around her thighs.

When she was settled, she sipped the hot chocolate, sighing in pleasure at the warm sweetness of it.

During Simon’s calls to her every Sunday evening—ever since she’d been eighteen— he’d asked how she was doing and answered any questions about money. She’d always assumed he did it out of duty since he wasn’t a very social person. She kind of liked the idea that he was hanging out with her now in the kitchen and drinking hot chocolate in the middle of the night.

It made him feel less bearlike and more human.

“This is good,” Simon said after taking a sip.

“Yeah. I know. That’s why I made it.”

After a short pause, Simon asked, “Why do you need comfort?”

Charlie blinked, surprised he’d even registered her throwaway comment earlier. “No reason.”

“Yes, there is a reason.” He wasn’t smiling or nodding or making any normal friendly conversational gestures. His eyes never left her face, but they felt knowing and sober rather than affectionate. “I’d like to know what it is.”

She drooped slightly on the stool, putting down her mug. “Bad date.”

“What happened?”

She never talked to him about her social life. Never. Just as he never talked to her about his—assuming he even had one, which certainly wasn’t a given. After all, how often did bears go out on the town with dates?

She felt strangely vulnerable tonight, however, and Simon felt different than he normally did. Like he might actually care about her.

So she said, “I... I thought this guy had potential. I thought he was... real. I thought he liked me... for me. But he didn’t.”

Simon was silent for a long moment, and something seemed tense about his posture. “What did he do?”

“Nothing really. It just became clear to me that he was mostly interested in my money.” She let out another long breath, trying to blow out the disappointment, the betrayal, the loss.

When Simon didn’t respond, she turned her head to check his expression.

He was glowering, but he often glowered, so she wasn’t sure how significant the expression was.

“I wasn’t stupid,” she told him. “I know how to recognize fortune hunters and players and con men. It just never occurred to me... I didn’t want to believe that even basically nice guys might want my money more than they want me.” Her voice broke on the last words, despite her attempts to control herself.

She’d been genuinely wounded tonight. Not for the first time.

She could hear Simon breathing beside her. He was staring down at his mug now. Finally he turned his eyes back to her and murmured, “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

It was the last thing she expected to hear from him, and it made two big tears stream down her cheeks and plop onto the counter. She wiped them away quickly. She wasn’t much of a crier, and she didn’t want Simon to feel sorry for her. “I guess I’m always going to have to think about that, wonder if the guy wants me or my money.”

He nodded. “You will. And I’m afraid you’ll discover that even nice guys aren’t really that nice.”

She gave a dry huff. “Thanks a lot. Very comforting.”

“I’m not any good at comforting. I’m not a nice guy myself, you know.”

“Oh I know that. I’ve always known that. Nice is the last word I’d ever apply to you.” She was telling him the truth, and he clearly recognized that.

He continued without visible or audible emotion. “But what I’m good at is seeing people as they really are. I’m good at guarding my heart. That’s what you need to do too. You always see the best in people, and that’s... that says something really good about you. But if you always look for the best, then you won’t see who people really are. You won’t be able to accept the world as it really is. And the world will keep breaking you. You’ll keep getting hurt.”

She swallowed. “I need to guard my heart? See people as they really are?”

“Beneath the surface. Don’t judge them on what they say they are or how they claim to feel about you. Judge them by what they do. And not just what they do when they know you’re watching. What they do when they think they’re alone. That’s who they really are. Once you do that, you’ll see the truth about all these guys who always act so nice to you. And you’ll know who loves you for real.”

She thought about that as she sipped her hot chocolate. The words felt right to her, true, smart. She wanted to be wise. She didn’t want to be foolish and vulnerable and always get her heart pummeled as a result.

Her best friends, Hannah and Madison, were always telling her she was too trusting of men, and what Simon was saying now confirmed it.

“Maybe you’re right. I never thought I was stupid about people before,” she said at last.

“You aren’t stupid.” He surprised her by reaching out and putting a warm hand on her wrist. A small gesture, but it sent tingles up her arm. He almost never touched her. “You’re good with people. You just don’t guard your heart. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve never had to before. You’ve been... loved. But the rest of the world isn’t like that. People are never going to live up to your hopes for them.”

She let out a shaky breath. “I guess not. I do like the idea of seeing people beneath the surface, who they really are. I’ll... I’ll try that. I’ll try... guarding my heart.”

Simon nodded. Then he lifted his mug and swallowed down the last of his cocoa.

“Does anyone see you beneath the surface?” Charlie asked, the question slipping out before she knew it was coming.

His eyes widened. She’d never thought he was handsome before. His features were too rough and craggy, his expression too stoic. But she was suddenly hit by attraction so strong it nearly knocked her out.

Sex. Man. Sex and man. Her body was screaming at her that Simon embodied both.

“I don’t think anyone wants to see beneath the surface of me,” he said at last, a little gruffly.

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing good underneath.”

She didn’t believe that was true. In fact, she suddenly knew it wasn’t true.

He’d always been there for her, even when she didn’t want him to be. And she knew he’d still be there when she needed him, even though she was twenty-four now.

There weren’t that many people she could depend on in this world. And he was one of them.

She reached out and squeezed his upper arm, startled by the firmness of his bicep. “I don’t believe you,” she murmured. “I think there might be some good in there, if one can get past the bearlike exterior.”

He slanted her a look that looked almost—almost—amused. “Bearlike?”

“You’re definitely a bear.” She leaned over pressed a soft kiss on his jaw. “But maybe I like bears. Thank you, Simon.”

He pulled away from her, looking stiff and uncomfortable the way he always did when she got too close—physically or emotionally. “For what?” he asked roughly.

“For being you.”

He didn’t say anything else. He wouldn’t even look at her now. In fact, he looked like he wanted her to go away. So she did.

She rinsed out the mugs and woke up Lady Jane, who had fallen asleep on the rug in front of the sink.

“Happy birthday, Charlie,” Simon said as she was leaving the kitchen.

She smiled at him wistfully.

He added with his normal frown, “I’ll turn back on the security system since evidently you can’t work it yourself.”

That was the thing about bears. Even when you wanted them to, they never miraculously turned into princes.

As she walked away from the kitchen, she felt confused and unsettled—as if something wasn’t finished. She turned around without thinking and walked back.

She stood in the doorway and started to speak but stopped when she saw what Simon was doing.

He was rinsing out the mugs and putting them in the dishwasher.

There was a cheerful woman named Mary who came in to clean every day. She would have taken care of the dirty mugs in the sink. But Simon wasn’t leaving them for her to deal with.

He obviously didn’t know Charlie had come back. He thought he was completely alone.

When he finished, he walked over to the counter where she’d left her pretty red coat. He stood for a moment with a hand on it. His back was facing Charlie, so she couldn’t see his expression.

Then he picked up the coat and lifted it to his face for a moment, like he was smelling it.

Lowering it at last, he shook it out and draped it over his arm. He was probably going to hang it up.

Without thinking it through, Charlie turned around and walked quickly away.

Simon hadn’t known she was watching. The moment felt private. She didn’t want him to see her.

Her heart was racing again—just as violently as it had been when she’d been scared by the security alarm.

For a different reason though.

Simon had said that she’d know a man for real—beneath the surface—when she watched what he did when he was alone, when he didn’t know she could see him.

That was how she could know how he really felt, whether he loved her for real.