by L. Nicole
Dirty Prince
Passport To Love Collaboration
L. Nicole
Copyright © 2020 by L. Nicole
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
WARNING: This book contains sexual situations, violence and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 and above.
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Contents
Foreword
Synopsis
1. Ree
2. Eddie
3. Ree
4. Eddie
5. Ree
6. Eddie
7. Ree
8. Eddie
9. Ree
10. Eddie
11. Margarita
12. Eddie
13. Ree
14. Eddie
15. Ree
16. Eddie
17. Ree
18. Margarita
19. Eddie
Epilogue
Keep In Touch
Also by L. Nicole
Foreword
Dear Reader!
Thank you so much for checking out Passport 2 Love!
Thirteen authors have come together to work on a collaboration that will have you traveling the world from the comfort of your own home with twelve new books!
Don’t worry about a passport and airline tickets! We will take you around the globe! From Vegas to Mexico to London, and all over!
Now, are you ready? Yeah? Alright! Let’s do this! Up, up, and away!
Love always,
Passport 2 Love Authors
Travel all around the world with us!
Check out the Passport 2 Love Collaboration:
Fly Girl by Aria Cole & Mila Crawford
Resort to Love by Ja’Nese Dixon
London’s Calling by KL Donn
Dirty Prince by L. Nicole
First Touch by Loni Ree
The Do-Over by Mayra Statham
Whoa! I Married the Pitcher! by Megan Wade
Paging Dr. Hook Up by Mika Jolie
Rocking Vegas by Regina Frame
Stay Right Here by Terra Kelly
Never Letting Go by Tory Baker
Irish Whiskey by Tracie Douglas
He’s sexy.
He’s filthy and he has bad idea written all over him.
As a princess, Margarita has always enjoyed the title and the privileges it gave.
That is until her father expects her to marry a prince of a small neighboring country.
A prince she has never met, nor has the inclination to meet.
In the twenty-first century, arranged marriages should be banned. Right?
Margarita’s father doesn’t agree.
She knows that when her father makes a decree, he’s more King than dad.
Which means she’s doomed.
So, Margarita makes one final plea.
She wants a vacation, to enjoy her last couple of weeks as a single woman.
Then, she will dutifully accept her fate, and marry Prince Archibald—which implies he’s definitely more frog than prince.
Surprisingly, her dad says yes.
Margarita is going to try and leave the single life behind with no regrets.
To hell with being a good girl.
Cue Eddie Andrews.
He’s got heartache written all over him.
He’s a definite love em’ and leave em’ kind of guy.
Which is fine. Because when this two-week vacation is over,
It will be Margarita who will be walking away.
At least that’s the plan.
1
Ree
“I still can’t believe you talked your father into this,” Camille says with a giggle as the plane takes off.
“Talked him into what? Letting me have two weeks of a lifetime sentence,” I question, flippantly.
“Hey maybe Prince Archibald is hot and great in bed. It might not be so bad being married to him. You’ll be a queen someday,” Camille responds. I let out an annoyed breath.
“You say that like it’s a good thing,” I mumble.
“Only a princess who had lived a life of privilege would think it’s not,” she counters, and I shoot her a dirty look—mostly because she’s right. I know I have a lot of privileges. That doesn’t mean there aren’t some major drawbacks too. I don’t bother explaining that. She wouldn’t understand, most wouldn’t.
I’m not even sure I do.
I am annoyed with Camille, though. She’s supposed to be my best friend and you think she would at least understand why I don’t get a choice in my own husband.
She rattles on as the plane takes off and we settle into the sky. I look out the window, the clouds looking like white marble beneath the wing of the plane. Camille might think I should be happy to be marrying Prince Archibald, but I’m not. I don’t know anything about him. In fact, there’s not one photo of him out there.
Not one.
In a time when paparazzi and the internet rule, that’s unheard of. Sure, Prince Archibald is a prince by title only. His country is democratically run these days. They only kept the King and his family as figureheads, symbols of a time gone by. Rumor has it that Prince Archibald is hideously disfigured and hides in his room. That’s supposedly why there are no photos of him.
I’ve been accused of being a snob, but I’m not—not really. If I was in love with him, I wouldn’t care what he looked like. But, for me to be in love with him, I’d have to know him. He’d have to be kind, sweet, funny and a hundred other little things that you only think about when you think of committing to someone.
I’m not in love with him, though. I don’t know him.
And maybe it makes me a horrible person, but despite my reputation of being the spoiled party girl, I’m a virgin. I had this dream that I would meet a good man, a man that would see me as a woman—not a meal ticket or a princess. I thought I’d find a man who would love me, who would be there for me, someone I could count on, while being all of those things to him.
Camille would laugh her ass off if she knew, but I’m a romantic.
A complete romantic.
I don’t want to give my virginity to a man I don’t know—a man my father chose because he wants a husband for his daughter who will be a good ruler of Macrai. Whoever I give my virginity to, it will be my choice.
And that’s the real reason, I’m headed to the Caymans.
That’s the real reason, I begged my father for a couple more weeks.
My father might have decided I was going to marry Prince Archibald, but I’ve made a decision of my own.
I’m giving my virginity away to the man of my choice.
Eddie Andrews.
I might not be in love with him and I doubt he will ever know what love is, but he wants me, and he makes me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else. I’ve spent a year pushing him away, but I don’t want to anymore.
I only have two weeks and I’m going to spend every moment of that rocking Eddie Andrew’s world.
And storing up enough memories to last me the rest of my life...
2
Eddie
I know the minute she walks into the bar. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
I always do.
Princess Margarita Chavez.
T
his woman has haunted me for a year. She’s out of my reach, definitely. She’s more than just royalty, she lives and breathes her position as princess of Macrai.
She’s dedicated to it.
I know she should be off limits, but I’ve wanted her from the first moment I laid eyes on her and it’s not going away. Hell, I have the reputation of being a ladies’ man, but I haven’t even looked at another woman since Margarita showed up at this bar. She’s it for me and I can’t deny it any longer.
Sometimes a man just gets tired of fighting it.
And I definitely am.
She’s looks damn hot tonight. She’s wearing a shimmery dress that reminds me of the sky at sunset—orange with a little pink in the mix and maybe even purple. It just depends on the way the lights hit it. It shines against her darker skin and hugs every damn curve she has. Her long, curly black hair has been left down and I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful woman in my life.
My damn balls start aching. I’ve wanted her forever. No one else will do. It has to be Margarita and I’m tired of waiting.
I watch, expecting her to go to her usual area of the bar. It’s not surprising she’s here. Margarita usually comes out to the island for a week or so every other month. I know, because she’s the only reason I’m here—the only reason I practically live here these days. I don’t want to miss her. I’m drawn to her and she’s like a fire in my blood, a need that I can’t control.
Margarita doesn’t go to her usual corner, even though her favorite table is empty. Instead, she walks over to me.
Fucking hell. I definitely wasn’t expecting that. Our gazes are locked. She’s smiling, but I can tell she’s nervous. Her face is tight, and her smile doesn’t quite reach those beautiful hazel eyes of hers. I stand here, leaning against the thick wooden bar top. She keeps coming and finally stands beside me. Her hand is clutching a small white purse, an emerald ring on her index finger, her nails long, manicured and cherry red. I can’t help but notice that they match her lips.
“Eddie,” she murmurs, so quietly that I can barely hear her over the music blaring on the speakers of the bar.
“Ree.”
She frowns, as she always does, at the nickname.
“You could use my name, you know,” she says, louder and obviously annoyed.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have Princess things to do?” I ask her, ignoring her suggestion. I like that I’m the only one that calls her Ree. I like that whenever I call her that I can see a small tremor run through her. For all of Margarita’s bluster, I know she’s attracted to me. She wants me almost as much as I want her.
She’s just fighting it extremely hard.
“Don’t annoy me, Andrews,” she mutters, pulling her gaze from me to look down at the bar. I motion for the bartender, Sam to come over.
“The lady wants a sangria and you can get me another beer. Put it on my tab.”
“I can buy my own drink, Eddie,” she mumbles, sitting down on the stool beside mine.
“Trust me, I know, Princess, but I’m a man. So, give me this.”
She studies me for a minute and then shrugs, as if it’s not worth arguing about.
“You’re looking good, Eddie.”
I study her face. I’ve been chasing this girl for a year. She flirts, but it never goes anywhere. We both know as royalty, she’s got life mapped out for her, even though she’s a princess of a small country—so small that it’s almost inconsequential. It’s this cat and mouse game that’s fun as hell at times and pure torture others.
“What game are you playing, Ree?”
“Why do I have to be playing a game?”
“Because in the entire year since I’ve known you, you’ve never come over to talk to me first and you’ve never said a damn thing about the way that I look.”
“We’re friends, Eddie. Maybe I just wanted to come say hi because I needed to see a friendly face.”
“I’m not sure what we are, Princess, but I don’t think you could sum it up as friends.”
“I’d like to think that we are friends. I mean, if I saw you on the side of the road with a flat, I’d offer you a ride,” she reasons.
“If you saw me naked, my dick hard and weeping for your attention, would you offer me a ride then, Ree?”
“Do you have to be so crass?”
“That’s who I am, Princess,” I respond as Sam puts down our drinks. I take a deep pull from my beer, and break eye contact with her. I need to catch my breath and get my bearings, or I’ll throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of here. If I did that, sheltered Margarita would find out just how truly crass I can be.
“You’re making this too hard,” she mutters.
“Making what hard?” I ask, her words instantly getting my attention.
“Never mind. This was a bad idea. I’ll see you around, Eddie,” she mutters. She slides off the bar stool, turning to leave, her drink untouched.
“Oh no, Princess. You don’t get to do that. You came here with something on your mind, so tell me what it is.”
“I did, but it’s clear that it won’t work out. I don’t know why I thought it would.”
“How about you tell me, and I’ll be the judge on if it will work,” I tell her, trying to play it cool. Honestly, I’m going over and over different scenarios in my mind, trying to figure out exactly what Margarita has cooking in that pretty little head of hers.
“I…uh…” She looks around, uncomfortable. “Is there somewhere we could go that’s a little less…”
“Less what?” I prompt, never seeing Margarita quite so…rattled.
“Can we go somewhere a little quieter,” she says finally. I can hear her fine and we’re standing pretty close, but she keeps looking at everyone around us. Whatever she’s got to say, it’s clear she doesn’t want to be overheard.
I was intrigued before, but now? Now, I have to know.
I reach out and press my hand against the small of her back. Instantly, electricity moves through me and the way her body jerks with my touch, I can tell she feels it too. Christ, the chemistry between us is definitely combustible.
“We’ll go to the office in the back.”
“The office?” she asks, sounding startled.
“Hey Sam? Going to borrow your office for a bit, buddy.”
“Sure thing, Eddie,” he calls back, but I’m already navigating Margarita through the crowd and hoping that once I get her in the office I have enough self-control that I don’t take her against the wall and put us both out of our misery.
3
Ree
My nerves are about to get the better of me. If it wasn’t for Eddie’s hand on my back, I’d take off running. His hand is there, though, burning me, making my legs weak and causing my entire body flush with heat.
It’s always been this way with Eddie. That’s the reason I’ve done my best to keep him at arm’s length. My reaction to him scares me, because the truth is, there’s nowhere in my world Eddie Andrews will fit. I wish there was.
God, how I wish there was.
But, there’s not. My father would never allow a relationship with Eddie. I don’t have the luxury to explore the feelings I have for him—at least not long term. Two weeks? That’s different.
We get into the office and I look around as Eddie turns on the light. It’s small. It consists of a desk and a sofa. I find my gaze frozen on the sofa.
“Okay, Ree, tell me what’s going on.”
I hear him, but I still can’t pull my eyes back to him. I just keep staring at the sofa.
“You must know the bartender well,” I mumble, staring so intently that the blue cushions of the couch are blurry.
“I’ve been coming here for a while, Ree. So yeah, I know him,” he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. He probably thinks I’m stalling.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe he’s not.
“I’ve been coming here for a year. I don’t know him well.”
<
br /> “Is there a point to this, Princess?”
“How often have you used that couch?” I ask, swallowing down my nerves.
“What?” he asks, his voice gone beyond mere frustration now. He’s getting pissed. Eddie is nothing if not hot-headed.
I slowly bring my gaze to him, my eyes taking their time drinking in all that is Eddie. Let’s face it...there’s a lot to take in.
Eddie is tall, and I mean tall. He towers over me and I’m five-nine. His shoulders are broad, and his skin is a golden bronze that has been kissed daily by the sun. His black hair is a little shaggy, maybe in need of a cut, but I like it. It’s so black in places that you could swear it’s purple. He has brown eyes that remind me of melted chocolate and are just as warm.
“It’s no secret around here that you’re a lady’s man,” I respond, my gaze stopping on his lips, lips that are thick and curved beautifully. Lips that make me wonder what it would be like to feel them on my skin.
“Jealous?” he asks, his face void of any outward reaction, but I can tell he’s studying me. Since what I’m about to do is going to leave me with nowhere to hide, I don’t bother hiding anything now either.
“Maybe a little,” I answer, and I can see the exact moment surprise flashes in Eddie’s eyes. I tilt my head to the side, watching him closely, because it’s my time to study him now. “Tell me, what does it take to be a notch on the legendary Eddie’s belt?”
“Legendary?” he says, pushing some things back on the desk so he can sit. “I think that’s probably stretching it a bit, Ree.”
