Lucky Prince_A Fake Fiance, Real Royal Wedding Romance

by Eva Luxe

“I guess I deserved that one, huh? No, Talia, I did not pay this man to say these incredible words about you. He came up with them all on his own based off of what he saw at the show.”

  I looked at him closely, trying to see if there was any sign of him lying. He looked sincere.

  “I may have been a little hard on you about this,” I said, a little embarrassed. “And myself. I should have given myself more credit.”

  “Thank you,” said Blake, sighing with relief. “Now, I understand the part that I played in things and it didn’t make it easy for you to trust yourself and know that you are truly talented. I hope now that you know that you are truly talented and that your future is very bright if you decide to continue pursuing your art.”

  “I guess so,” I said, starting to embrace my new take on how things went for my first art show. The incident with Harvey had been a minor glitch in the program, but overall, it had been a major success. My art had sold out. People were starting to find out who I was. Several newspapers said wonderful things about me. It was true. I was a bonafide artist and I had the accolades to prove it.

  I sat back down on the bed and wrapped my arms around my knees and smiled. It was the first time, probably ever, that I had been proud of myself.

  Blake sat down and started taking his shoes off. He look worn out, like he had been scouring the city looking for the papers. I was so grateful for him. He really did want to see me happy.

  “Thank you for all of your support,” I said to him. “I know now that all you ever wanted to do was help. And I truly appreciate you for that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving me away. “It was strictly business. I knew that I would be stupid to let such a lucrative business opportunity go. I knew that your paintings were going to make a killing, so I had to find a way to make sure that I got a piece of the pie. And it has paid off in dividends.”

  I rolled my eyes at his bad attempt at a joke. I still laughed, though.

  “Oh yeah? How exactly has it paid off in dividends?”

  “Well, for one, it has made me want to do something that I never thought that I would ever want to do,” he said. He walked over to the side of the bed where I sat, kneeled down, and revealed a small grey velvet box.

  I was so shocked that my mouth fell open.

  “I know that we haven’t known each other for very long. And it’s been quite the adventure already. But, you have filled a part of my heart that I thought that I would never even want filled. You have made me happier in these past few months than I have been in years. And I can’t think of anything else that I’d rather do than spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. Talia, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  He looked at me intensely, holding his breath as he waiting for me to answer.

  This was everything that I could ever want. I had wished that I could tell Blake that I loved him, but had been afraid of messing things up. His proposal was exactly what I needed to prove to me that he loved me, too.

  “Yes!” I yelled, jumping up to hug him and pushing him over. He laughed as we both fell onto the floor. He righted himself, took the ring out of the box, and slipped it onto my finger. It was the perfect size and the diamonds glittered brilliantly on my finger.

  I was going to be his wife.

  Happily ever after wasn’t just something that happened in the fairy tales; it was actually happening in my own life.

  We kissed passionately and tenderly, almost as if our souls were merging in that moment. I wiped a tear away from the corner of my eye.

  I wasn’t sad, though. I was so happy that I could barely stand it.

  And if I had my way, we would stay that way forever

  Epilogue

  “Mrs. Carson! Mrs. Carson! Over here!” called one of the photographers standing in front of the gallery. We had arrived in a limo just in time for the red carpet to be rolled out. I had been wearing a black designer dress made of lace with a long train flowing out the back. I stood and posed for the camera, smiling demurely as I posed. Blake smiled and waved charmingly. He had always had a way with people. He made it that much easier for me to adapt to my new role as his wife.

  I couldn’t believe how much things had changed in just three months.

  After we got back to the island, things really took off. My name became the name that was buzzing in all of the art galleries. Everyone wanted to know what they could do to get me in a show. The giant floral arrangements that started showing up at the gallery was the beginning of it. After a while, people from the gallery would call, saying that six and seven figure checks were being dropped off for me just to have one of my pieces displayed in their shows.

  It was almost overwhelming how quickly things were moving. I was so grateful that I had decided to back to the island with Blake instead of living in the city like many had suggested as they saw the rapid growth in my popularity. That way, I had more time to process things. I spent time exploring my art and overcoming challenges that had been plaguing me for years. I overcame my fears and insecurities surrounding me not being a good artists. I began to embrace the fact that I was actually a good artist and even figured out exactly when I started to doubt myself.

  It happened in elementary school. There was a girl who was a lot bigger than I was who used to pick on every one. I remember sitting quietly underneath a tree on a warm Spring day coloring in my notebook and having her silouhette appear on my paper. I outlined her head and quickly shaded it in before looking up at her.

  “Your art is stupid,” she said, angrily slapping the notebook out of my hand. I had been too timid to say anything to her. I just kept my head down.

  “You aren’t saying anything because you know I’m right. Your art is a waste of time and you’re a waste of breath.”

  Her two flunkies standing next to her with their arms folded, equally as mean looks on their faces, laughed.

  It had been a moment that had followed me for many years. It wasn’t until I started talking to Blake about my childhood that I even remembered it.

  But, Blake and I talked about everything. We shared so much with each other. It was exciting to learn something about him every day. It was like unpacking a Christmas present every day.

  Plus, Blake and I had time to get married and start our honeymoon. We joked that maybe we needed to go stay out in a tundra somewhere since we lived where most people would honey: a tropical island. But, being on the island with Blake as husband and wife was an experience that I will never forget. It was different than being there as his companion or love interest. There was a tenderness and respect that he had for me that felt different. And there was a longing for him that way different, something that I couldn’t quite put into words.

  Things were going better than they ever had in my wildest dreams. Blake and I explored every inch of the island. He showed me how to hunt the birds that frequented the island. I wasn’t too fond of that, but I did enjoy eating the wild fowl that he would prepare. He showed me how to make huge bonfires. We picked wild grapes from a vine near the opposite side of the island and he showed me how to ferment them and make wine.

  And we had the most passionate sex that I had ever had. The sex had already been incredible even before we got married. But, once we got married, it was like we had opened Pandora’s box. He was more adventurous, looking for new and exciting ways to please me. He even had toys and costumes flown in so we let our imaginations run wild as we experimented on the beach, in the house, in the water, and everywhere in between. He was gentle when he needed to be and rough when I needed that, too.

  After about a month, Blake started asking me if I would consider being in the art show that Linda had talked about. I told him that I had already turned her down, but he wouldn’t give up. He told that technically, I owned the gallery, too, and that I could put on any show that I wanted. He said that it would be smart to do my own show, especially since so many people were looking to book me. It would set me apart as a new artist and let
the art world know that I was slated for greatness. I went back in forth for a while in my head about it before finally giving in and deciding to be a part of the show. I told him that I didn’t want to make the show all about me because I wanted to give other artists the chance to be featured. So, I submitted a few pieces to be featured.

  Walking into the gallery brought back so many memories, some of which were very painful. But, thinking about the way that things had turned around dashed those memories out of my mind and ushered in new, happy thoughts.

  “Hi!” said Linda, greeting us as we walked through the door. “We have been waiting for your arrival. I just got off the phone with Allison and guess what? She has some news about our dear friend, Harvey, that I’m sure that you’ll love to hear about.”

  I groaned just hearing his name.

  “Linda, this really isn’t the time or place to talk about that sleazeball,” said Blake, his nostrils beginning to flare with anger.

  “Unfortunately for Harvey, it isn’t very good news,” said Linda, ignoring Blake’s comment. “It turns out that he has gotten himself into a world of legal trouble. The IRS just nabbed him for tax evasion. It seems as though he has been running an art scam for years. But, not only has he not paid taxes for years, he also was scamming artists out of money that he had promised to pay them for selling their art at his gallery. Anyway, after looking at everything, they’re saying that once they finish sorting through everything and making him pay everything that he owes, he’s going to be bankrupt.”

  I gasped and clapped my hand over my mouth. Harvey was one of the first professional art gallery owners that I had known. He had been the first person to buy a piece of my art. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been one of the artists that he had scammed out of money. Knowing the way that he was, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that I was.

  “That just goes to show, you can’t be a rotten person and expect that bad things won’t happen to you,” said Blake, not bothering to hide his disdain for Harvey. “I, for one, would have loved to go a few rounds with him personally after what he did to my wife, but I feel like this is poetic justice. He said a lot of terrible things about Talia never being remembered or taken seriously in the art world and as if turns out, he’s about to be the laughing stock of the art world and, pretty soon, nobody will even remember him at all. Good riddance.”

  “Good riddance,” I echoed. I couldn’t held but feel satisfied at hearing the news. But, more than that, it felt good to be standing there in the gallery with my husband, being held in high esteem by well off people and other artists, artists that I had grown to respect over the years. Everyone smiled at me graciously, shook my hand, asked for autographs, and begged me to take pictures with them.

  “It’s her!” I heard a young girl shout to her mother as they stood just a few yards away from us. The girl ran up to me.

  “Hi, there,” I said, smiling at her brightly.

  “My mom is buying one of your pieces. I really like it. I’m going to look at it every day and practice so that I can be a big time artist like you when I grow up.”

  “My wife is truly one of the greats,” said Blake, putting his arm around me. “You are lucky to be able to get one of her pieces and I hope that you cherish it always.”

  “I will, sir. Thanks,” said the girl, running off in the direction of the painting that she was soon to take home.

  We watched her run away and shared a look. It was a look that recognized that fire that was blazing inside of her, one that I had had when I first arrived on the island. One that Blake had helped me grow.

  I looked around the room and noticed that all of my pieces had bright red stickers on them, indicating that they had been sold.

  “Another sold out show,” said Blake, taking my hand into his. “Tell me, Mrs. Carson. Are you happy?”

  His eyes searched mine for any signs of doubt. He played with my hand, intertwining our fingers as he waited for my answer.

  “As a matter of fact, yes I am,” I said. “There’s only one thing that could make me even happier.”

  Blake smiled devilishly.

  “Oh yeah?” he said, pressing his body against mine and kissing me softly on the cheek. “And what’s that?”

  I looked up at him so that I could catch his expression.

  “A baby,” came my simple response.

  I saw a glimmer of shock in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that answer. He nodded slowly, looking off in the distance.

  “We haven’t really talked about that, but…okay. If that’s what would make you happy, then that’s what will make me happy. We’ll stick around here for a little bit longer just to show our faces and then we’ll head on home so that we can get right on this baby making business.”

  A server was walking by with a tray of champagne and Blake grabbed two flutes. He gave one to me.

  “I propose a toast,” he said. “Here’s to starting our baby making journey.”

  I didn’t raise my glass. I just smiled at him.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you toasting with me?” he asked, confused.

  “Because there’s no need,” I answered.

  “No need for a toast?” asked Blake, still struggling to put things together.

  “No, there’s no need for us to start trying to make a baby,” I said.

  “Oh okay. I understand. Yeah, we do need to make sure that we’re ready for it and plan. Having a baby is a huge responsibility. Or so I’ve heard.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” I said. “We don’t have to start trying to make a baby because we’ve already made one.”

  Blake’s mouth fell open as he started to understand what I was saying.

  “You mean…?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “No! Really?” said Blake. He jumped and pumped his fist in the air. He looked so excited, like it was news that he had been waiting to his whole life to hear.

  He scooped me up in his arms and spun me around.

  “We’re going to be parents!” he yelled. Everyone in the gallery started to clap.

  I felt like I had won every prize that I could have ever won.

  And, in many ways, I did.

  Out of Bounds: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Copyright © 2016 - 2017 by Juliana Conners

  Published by Sizzling Hot Reads.

  Chapter 1 – Wesley

  Damn it.

  I have to force myself not to wince as I feel my hamstring pull even more than it was already pulled. I’m midway through walk on tryouts, which is no time to look like I’m injured.

  I’m jumping back into football too soon, too hard, after too much time being away from the field. But I’m not about to let anyone fucking find out.

  A stupid, avoidable injury like this is the reason I should have been practicing all summer. Except I thought I wasn’t going to get to play.

  Scratch that.

  I didn’t just think I wasn’t going to get to play— I was pretty damn sure of it. Since that’s what the Powers That Be had informed me when they not so nicely dismissed me from Huningdale University and from its Warriors football team, which, during my very first season, I had led to victory as quarterback.

  Some thanks I got.

  “Run through it, run through it, run through it!” Coach Thompson bellows at me now.

  If only his players were as strong as his lungs.

  I can’t believe I’m trying out for such a shitty football team. The Calton Wildcats haven’t won a game in ages.

  Or at least I’m pretending to try out. Even suffering from a slight injury and while being rusty, I’m clearly better than every player who was on the team last season and everyone else who is trying to make the team this season.

  We all know I’m a shoe in. A deal’s been worked out and I’m already on the team; it’s just a question of whether I get to play a lot or whether I’ll be benched for most or all of the season while I show I can behav
e when I’m off the field.

  Even without the deal, though, I’d still be a sure bet to make the team. No one else comes fucking close to my talent. To be blunt, I’m too good for this team. The Calton Wildcats are a joke compared to the Huningdale Warriors. But thanks to the hot water I landed myself in back at my old school, it’s this team or nothing, or so I’ve been told.

  I couldn’t believe it when they told me I could play at Calton, since it had been months since they’d told me I was a goner for good. I couldn’t believe I was getting a second chance. So now I put up with Coach Thompson shouting at me while I run a bunch of lame, easy drills just for show during walk on tryouts for his subpar team.

  He’s yards away, but it feels like he’s yelling right into my ear. I have to admit, he’s a menacing presence, with his large, overbearing figure and his red, puckered-up face.

  I try to remind myself that his scary demeanor and raw anger probably come from losing too many games. And that I can fix that little problem for him. I’ve never been afraid of a coach, but this one has the power to make or break what little is left of my college football career— and whatever lies beyond that.

  I pick up the twisted stack of rags on the ground, as required by this drill, and keep running as fast as I can. I tell myself to forget about the pain in my leg, as well as this crazy coach’s screaming.

  “Great job, Reynolds!” he yells, as I touch both lines on the field and finish strong in the drill. “Good explosive steps despite your previous hobbling around with whatever pussy footed injury you’ve given yourself. Keep going, keep going!”

  Of course he’s impressed. I shouldn’t have worried, even for a second.

  Now it’s time for the forty yard dash. I’ve done so many drills in a row today after a long time of not doing much at all. I really should give my out-of-practice leg a rest but I just keep running. And I end up finishing with the fastest time of anyone trying out, while not even breaking a fucking sweat.

  If it weren’t for my damn injury, it’d be a piece of cake. This tryout is nothing compared to the warm ups my last coach put us through.