by Nikki Wild
“Is it?” Raleigh asked apathetically.
“It is,” Dalton confirmed. “Because I’ve never really had grandparents. You’ve seen to that personally. The few times you two were ever around, it was always to pressure me into meeting your ridiculous expectations… tell me, Grandfather, what other family do you have?”
He remained silent.
“That’s what I thought… we’re it, aren’t we? We are the only people in the world that you can turn to as you grow old, and you’ve pushed us away…”
“I will not stand here and listen to this bullshit,” Raleigh Carlyle muttered. He turned to his wife. “Riana, we are leaving.”
Curiously, she didn’t budge.
“Riana?”
“Dalton… has a point,” she mentioned. “These two are all that’s left of the legacy, Raleigh. They are all that we have.”
“They’re not getting my money,” he firmly replied. “They’ve squandered their chances…” He turned back to face his son and grandson. “…They’ve disgraced us, the both of them. If only our darling Gloria had survived, we could have continued on… we could have mattered again…”
“You could have mattered all along,” William spoke up. “Instead, you chose to cut me lose when I needed you most, and you’ve barely been in your single grandchild’s life… you think we’re the disgrace, Father? No. No, that particular distinction belongs to you.”
Nobody said a word.
“The worst part of it,” he continued, “is that Mother’s always wanted more than what you’ve given her… you’ve alienated her from her family. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Your obsession with English high society has blinded you, Father… and in your blindness, you’ve separated your wife from her only legacy. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Raleigh’s cold exterior iced over.
“Fuck you, William.”
He turned to Riana. “We’re leaving.”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
Dalton and William’s jaws practically dropped. Apparently, Riana Carlyle had never publicly defied her husband.
“Excuse me?” He asked, rounding on her.
“Raleigh, this has gone on long enough,” she wearily muttered. “Out of blindness, I allowed you to block our son from the inheritance… but our grandson? You want to default our wealth to the Crown? No, that just won’t do.”
Her husband turned purple with fury, but he didn’t move a muscle. She rose up from her chair, walking past him to confront my beloved. I moved to step away, but he kept my fingers locked into his, and so we both faced her together.
“Dalton, there is something that you were never told about the Carlyle Fortune… something that neither of you were told,” she began, turning to William as well. “You see… Raleigh was never the inheritor of our family’s money.”
“I don’t understand,” William replied.
Riana smiled. “I was.”
“But… how?” Dalton asked. “Raleigh Carlyle carries the family name… how did you…?”
“Simple, really,” she continued. “I was born Riana Carlyle, and I married one Raleigh Fisher. The original Carlyle will dictates that the family name must always survive, and so Raleigh adopted my surname, instead of the other way around. Therefore… Raleigh never truly controlled the inheritance at all.”
William and Dalton seemed to take this particularly hard. “But… that means…”
“That’s right,” Riana sighed. “I should have intervened before, but I was wrapped up in Raleigh’s misguided thoughts on how the money should be handled… William, I am so very sorry. You earned your right to the money back, and I stood by and allowed this transgression against you to continue.”
“I forgive you, Mother,” he smiled faintly. “I prefer this life without it. I’ve supported myself ever since then, married a wonderful woman, and raised a strong and capable son… I couldn’t ask for much more.”
“And so you have,” Riana agreed. “And on the topic of this strong and capable son of yours…”
She paused, casting Raleigh a quick glance. He didn’t budge or open his mouth, and so she glanced over at Dalton once more.
“You tell us that you love this young woman… a young woman who is not only significantly beneath yourself in age, but your stepsister… I am bound by the laws of Reginald Carlyle’s will, as evidenced by the Crown. Your love for her is a disgrace to the family, as Raleigh so elegantly put it earlier… are you willing to forsake your inheritance for her?”
“I am,” Dalton answered, without skipping a beat. “Forgive my disgrace, Grandmother, but I cannot help the woman I love… and I’m willing to give it all away for her.”
“I see,” Riana observed coolly. “Well, that is certainly your decision to make, and I commend you for sticking to your convictions, no matter the cost. I daresay noone in this room can argue with you any longer.”
She gave a meaningful glance to my mother, who quietly simmered in response.
“…But I suppose I am at some liberty to say that there are some… extenuating circumstances, in the event of something like this.”
Dalton lit up. “Such as…?”
“The original patriarch of the Carlyle Fortune, your ancestor Reginald, had a second will drafted… one that was able to counteract the first,” she answered. “One that was also signed by the Crown, with a later date to prove successive displacement of the original terms. There’s a slight amendment to the way the inheritance works.”
The entire room hung on every word.
“As it were, Reginald Carlyle sympathized with his older brother Abner more than history recalled. It turns out that, not only did the disgraced Windsor-Carlyle truly love the Crown Princess, but Reginald foresaw this possibility happening in the bloodline again. It turns out that the man believed very firmly in destiny. ”
Dalton and I shared a meaningful look.
“Once five hundred years had passed, the terms of the second will were to be followed… they stipulated that, in the event of the money defaulting to the Crown over a matter of love, no matter how disgraceful, all money and resources would default to the otherwise rightful inheritor, and the terms and conditions of the Carlyle Fortune would henceforth be disbanded.”
Raleigh’s lips quivered. “You don’t mean…”
“That’s correct,” Riana Carlyle smiled. “As it turns out, the 500th anniversary was approximately two decades ago. The moment you disavowed Dalton Carlyle his inheritance, and he proved in front of us all that he would gladly turn down the money and power to be with this young woman… our grandson won.”
Everyone was silent.
“Dalton, I must appeal to you now,” Riana spoke, stepping forward and taking his free hand in both of hers. “The Carlyle Fortune is no more, and the money is yours. The family attorneys will see to the succession with you. I ask, my darling grandson, that you allow us a stipend to continue living on, and that you give us time to move out of your rightful manor.”
“Grandchildren typically spend some time in their grandparents’ homes,” Dalton answered. “A weekend here, a week there, to get to know those before them. There’s a certain familial bond to the practice. However… I’ve never slept in Carlyle Manor. That mansion is just another oversized, overblown dot on the English countryside to me. I have no personal attachment to it, or ambitions for it.
“Feel free to keep the manor. I’ll let you have whatever money you need, so long as it defaults back to me in the end.”
Riana bowed her head graciously. “Thank you, Dalton. I deeply appreciate that.”
Her husband looked positively defeated. He sank back down into his chair, staring off into space miserably.
It was William who spoke next. Loud enough for everyone to hear, he turned to my mother and mentioned offhandedly: “You know, Sarah, he wouldn’t be a bad son-in-law to have…”
“And why is that?” Mom snapped.
“Well, besides convincing all of us
that he loves your daughter with every fiber of his being, and that he’ll protect her until his dying breath… Dalton just became a multi-millionaire.”
Epilogue
I glance over my shoulder at Clara as she’s ordering us some lunch on my card. With a small, affectionate smirk, I turn back in front, kicking back at the café table. The crisp air hits me while my eyes gaze around at our surroundings, and I feel refreshed by its touch.
Long-since indoctrinated military instincts kick in as I continue to lazily survey the immediate surroundings, scanning for threats while out of the States. All clear, I think to myself.
My thoughts mellow out, and I appreciate the architecture of the surrounding buildings from this street-level vantage point. My Marine friends were right – Paris is beautiful this time of year.
Six months has passed since that fateful meeting with our entire family. In the intervening time, we’ve finished up our semester at college before pulling out for the following term in advance. We still intend on finishing our degrees, but we thought we’d take a quick detour first.
You see, Clara and I decided to travel the world together after all.
I love how well Clara has adapted to this life. Once she let go of her comfort zone and hopped into this adventure with me, if you’d believe it, she became even more beautiful to me.
The best part is that I don’t have to do this alone. In my deepest dreams, I’d never thought I’d have someone by my side through this journey, someone reliable whom I loved with all my heart. I’m willing to put an expiration date on this voyage to come back to the States and see her through the rest of her education… and I guess the rest of mine, too.
I haven’t quite decided what I’m focusing on, but that’s sort of not an issue for me.
Despite his wishes to the contrary, I separated out and dispersed a large portion of the Carlyle Fortune for Father and Sarah. After all, it should have been his from the start. It took a while for them both to come around – Father was comfortable without it, and Sarah was still acclimating to my relationship with her daughter. However, we had put things behind us, and we definitely were on the road to a healthy in-law relationship.
Naturally, I left my grandparents a large chunk of the money to continue living on, and they are free to keep Carlyle Manor as well. I have no intentions of maintaining that dusty old mansion when they die, but I’ve been giving some thought to converting it into an international home for shell-shocked war veterans. I haven’t quite worked out the logistics, although the lawyers I’ve consulted have told me that it’s probably rather doable.
With all of that said, you’ll have to forgive me. There’s something far more important than money on my mind right now.
The great Bill Murray once told a twenty-something at his bachelor party that the best way to prove you found the right woman is to walk the world with her for months, roughing it and relying on each other at your darkest or most miserable. When you arrive back at the final airport, if you still love her, marry her on the spot.
With only a couple of months under our belts, I had all the convincing I needed. That’s why my fingers are sliding around this ring box in my pocket right now – because tonight, we’re going to be watching fireworks from atop a German castle.
I’m proposing to her, right there and then.
Natalie had even commended me via text message on my choice of ring… and was eagerly waiting to hear the news. As much as she’d done to be in my corner of the ring when it came to Clara… I just couldn’t exclude her from that part.
The future that we have ahead is bright and full of wonder. I’m already wondering where we’ll go when our schooling is over.
No matter what happens, or what lies ahead for us… we know that we have the support of our family, the warmth of each other’s love, and the strength to circumvent any obstacle.
Clara and I will face that future down.
Together.
* * *
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-Nikki
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Novels by Nikki Wild
Bad Boy Fighters:
KNOCKOUT (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)
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Bad Boy Bikers:
Saving Landon (A Bad Boy Biker Romance)
Saved by the Bad Boy (A Devil’s Dragons Biker Romance)
Rough Rider (Outlaw Kings Motorcycle Club)
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British Bad Boys:
Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)
Arrogant Brit (A Bad Boy British Sports Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)
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Bad Boy Rockstars:
Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
* * *
Bad Boy Stepbrothers:
Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
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Bad Boy Billionaires:
Protect And Serve (A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)
ROYAL PRICK
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By Nikki Wild
Copyright 2016 Nikki Wild
All Rights Reserved
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Copyright © 2016 by Nikki Wild
All rights reserved.
My entire catalog is FREE TO READ for anyone with a Kindle Unlimited subscription! You can check out all of my sexy bad boy novels by clicking RIGHT HERE!
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Do you want new release notification, a chance to be an ARC reader, special limited time discounts, and FREE EXCLUSIVE Nikki Wild content? Click here to sign up for my WILD mailing list today! Signup is easy and I will NEVER send you spam or share your e-mail address with anyone.
Prologue
“Tristan… oh, my God. If we’re caught…”
Gwendolyn Pierce was staring up at me with her wide, soulful eyes and her pretty pink lips all agape, her heart beating so hard if I listened closely, I swore I could hear it. I was close enough to feel it, too, pounding through the thin fabric of her camisole, making her pert nipples quiver against my chest.
I’d caught her in her nightclothes, a modest ensemble of flannel pajama pants and a lacy top with no bra underneath. The latter clung to her small frame, the full, tender globes of her breasts outlined in delicious shadow.
I slid my fingers up along her ribs, returning her gaze, the bare skin of my chest grazing her trembling arms. “Nobody needs to know, Gwennie. It’s just you and me.”
Gwen took in a sharp breath, and for a moment, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, but trailed off when I began inching her cami up her stomach, revealing more of her pale skin than was appropriate, given who we were to one another.
Gwendolyn was my stepsister. And I was her stepbrother, and heir to a duchy. We were both hot and barely past eighteen and pumped full of hormones. W
e were dangerous. A scandal waiting to happen.
And I wanted it to happen. I was sure Gwennie did, too. No matter how hard she’d dug her heels in about adapting to British culture—something her mother had insisted upon, accent and all—my stepsister couldn’t shake that rebellious nature of hers. She wasn’t meant for the aristocracy. Then again, neither was I.
“We can’t,” she breathed. God, I could taste her on my lips. She tasted like desire, betraying her words, which came out almost like a squeak. It made my cock hard to no end. She was such a little mouse, but I got the feeling she would turn into a wildcat in bed, once somebody popped that sweet cherry of hers.
Somebody who would, hopefully, be me.
“We can,” I insisted. “See?” And I ever-so-lightly brushed the pad of my thumb over one of her nipples.
“God!” she hissed a little too loudly, and I leaned down to cover her mouth with my own, to stifle the seductive sounds dripping from her mouth. Gwendolyn turned her face away at the last second, panting hard as I teased the nub of puffy, sensitive flesh beneath the fabric of her shirt.
“Let me do this for you,” I whispered in her ear. Her back arched, forcing her hips against my hard-on. “I want you so badly, Gwennie. And I know you want me.” I took one of her hands and placed it on my cock; in response, it lurched toward her, desperate for more contact, so full of want and need that it physically hurt. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Tristan,” Gwendolyn said, her doe-like eyes somehow growing even wider. “You’re… pierced? Down there?” She touched the surgical steel embedded in the head of my cock.
