The Prince's Bride: A Naughty Royal Romance
Page 1
The Prince’s Bride
A Naughty Royal Romance
Adele Hart
Contents
Also by Adele Hart
Foreward
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Epilogue 2
Also by Adele Hart
Yours to Love-Sneak Peek
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Adele Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Adele Hart
Alphas and Virgins Titles
Thrill Me
Tempt Me
Take Me
Choose Me
Kiss Me
Devour Me
Make Me Titles
Make Me Yours
Make Me Crazy
Make Me Wet
Make Me Wild
Make Me Happy
Make Me Love You
Hot Heroes Titles
My Toy Boy
My Crazy Cowboy
My Naughty Professor
Bad Boys and Good Girls
Slow, Hard Puck
Fast, Hard Ride
Long, Hard Pass
Boxsets
Alphas and Virgins Collection One
Alphas and Virgins Collection Two
Make Me Volume One
Make Me Volume Two
Deliciously Dirty
Guilty Pleasures
My Hot Hero
Hard
Bad Boys and Bands
Your to Love
Naughty Royal Romances
The Prince’s Bride
Foreward
Hey Girl,
I don’t know about you, but I love me a handsome prince. Always have. Always will.
I think it’s the excellent manners, the impeccable grooming, the way they can say something really dirty that sounds very polite (in my imagination, anyway). Okay, the palace and massive crown jewels don’t hurt either.
You know what else I love? A royal wedding. And since there’s one coming up right away, I thought, ‘Adele, you should write about a prince and a regular American girl. That would be really fun. And hot.’
So I did.
And here it is, my friend. Hope you love it!
Peace Out,
Adele (drops mic and looks up fascinator hats online.)
Chapter 1
Addison
I am late again. This isn’t the first time this month which means my nasty boss, Rachel Witherspoon, (yes that's her real name but no relation to the lovely Reese bearing the same last name), anyway Rachel is going to have my butt when I get to the campus coffee shop, Perks.
I guess the fortune cookie I had last night was wrong. Today isn’t going to be a life changing day for me. It’s just more of the same. Rush to class. Study. Work ‘til I drop. Wake up and do it again.
I gather my textbooks and laptop, then quickly load them in my backpack and run out of the library.
As soon as I open the door and step outside, I'm greeted by a beautiful New England autumn evening, but I don't have time to enjoy it because I need to get my big behind across the Harvard campus as quickly as possible. I hurry down the stone steps, digging around in my bag for a brush and elastic so I can get my hair under control by the time I reach work. Without warning, I slam into something very hard and big, ending up on my butt on the busy sidewalk.
Holy canoodles! That hurts. I clutch my left hand, not daring to look at my stinging palm. It takes me a second to register that I am now sitting in the middle of the sidewalk because my head is ringing like a Bugs Bunny bad guy who’s just been hit with anvil.
Oh, yeah, and the contents of my backpack have spilled everywhere, so that’s perfect.
"Are you all right?" A deeply sexy voice with a British accent snaps me out of my daze.
“I think s—.” I stop talking when I look at him, feeling like I just got smacked on the head again. This man is gorgeous with a capital G. Dark blond hair, hazel eyes that swirl with intense greens, ambers, and blues that a girl could get lost in. He's crouching in front of me, gathering my things while everyone else rushes by without noticing me. But it's not a surprise that people wouldn't take any notice. I'm surrounded by rich kids—the bane of society. Spoiled. Entitled. Rude. Everything that's wrong with this world. My dad’s other children are rich—the ones he wanted to raise, the ones he had with ‘the right’ woman. And I can hardly stand the sight of any of them.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there.”
"It's my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.” I flip my hand over only to wish I hadn’t. It’s bleeding like crazy and there’s a pebble lodged in the pad of my thumb. My stomach churns. I’m not a girl who can handle the sight of blood.
“Oh my God! That looks awful.” Mr. Hottie Polite Guy says, taking my hand in his.
The touch of his skin on mine causes me to completely forget the pain, sending a wave of heat through my entire body. My cheeks feel hot and I'm suddenly horrified at the idea that he might know I’m picturing him completely naked.
“We should get you to a doctor immediately.”
“No need. I’ll just put a band-aid on it and I’ll be good as new.” I stand and try to gather my things using my right hand only.
“Don’t do that. I’ve got it,” he says, standing with me so he’s now towering over me with our very obvious height difference. He turns to two men who are standing behind him and says, “Johan, can you please help pick up Miss…” looking back at me, he says, “What’s your name?”
“Addison.”
“Miss Addison’s things? And Gabriel, can you look at her hand?”
The two men nod and do as he asked, while Hottie says, “My friend Gabriel was a medic in the Royal Navy.”
“Great?” I say, feeling very confused about how these three guys are friends. The other two look to be in their thirties and there’s no way they’re foreign exchange students. Both have matching buzz cuts, hoodies, jeans, and when I look closely, are wearing ear pieces like the type you see in FBI movies.
Gabriel steps forward and Hottie lets go of my hand, leaving me with a pang of regret that I’m not touching him anymore.
“I can get that cleaned up and glue it,” Gabriel says with a firm nod.
Sliding my hand away, I say, "I'm fine, thank you. I'm actually in a big hurry." I pivot and take my bag from the other guy, Johan, and walk past them, calling over my shoulder, "Thank you though."
A moment later, I feel Hottie’s presence next to me. It’s either him or I have some fever that comes and goes. I glance to my right to see him walking next to me, an easy stride for his long legs whereas my short ones are moving at double the pace. I swallow, feeling extremely self-conscious to be so near a guy like him. "Oh, it’s you again,” I say in a light tone.
"I want to make sure you're okay."
"Honestly, it’s no big deal. But what will be a big deal is if I get fired from my job for being late."
"You can't work like this. Not with your hand needing to be bandaged up.
"
"Well, my boss really wouldn’t care if my hand is cut off. This is the fourth time this month that I've been late." I give him a quick nod and a smile, daring to look him in the eyes again, secretly planning to tuck away the image of his perfect face so close to mine. That'll keep me warm on many a cold night, I'm sure. I make a sharp left and pull open the door to the coffee shop. "See you around."
Not likely. No matter how much I wish I could see him again.
***
When I walk inside, I’m met by the sounds of The Lumineers, a staple band here at Perks. It’s already packed with the early evening study crowd.
"Addison, you're late." Rachel, who is standing behind the counter wearing our uniform of a snug fitting, white T-shirt and black apron, crosses her arms across her flat chest.
"Sorry, Rachel. I'll be changed and ready to go in a minute."
"Make it thirty seconds. And I am docking your pay this time. It’s fully within my right to do that according to the employee contract."
I start towards the washroom then stop in my tracks as I hear Hottie McRich Pants behind me.
"Rachel, is it?" he says smoothly.
I turn and look back and forth between them, trying to force my mouth not to hang open like a slack-jawed idiot. Rachel takes one look at him and turns a bright pink color, a wide grin spreading across her face as she nods enthusiastically.
"Rachel, I’m Henry,” he says, reaching out to take her hand in his. He lifts it to his face and brushes her knuckles with his lips, reducing her to a puddle on the tile floor. “It’s my fault that my friend Addison is late. I accidentally knocked her down and injured her hand quite badly.”
He reaches for my hand again and gently unfolds it to reveal the cuts.
Rachel wrinkles up her nose. "You can't work like that. It's not sanitary."
I stop myself from rolling my eyes. "I know. I'll bandage it up when I'm getting changed."
“Well, you better hurry, because I’m not letting you clock in until you’re actually working.”
Henry raises one eyebrow. “Docking her pay, Rachel? I know deep down, you’re a very compassionate person. Don’t be afraid to let others see that side of you.”
She blushes, grinning and shrugging. “That’s true, actually. I’m a very sensitive girl.” Turning to me, she says, “I’ll let it go this time.”
“Good for you, Rachel. Has anyone told you you’re lovely when you smile like that.” Glancing at me, he says, “Would it be all right if Gabriel fixes your hand up for you?”
“Sure, that would be nice.” With that, I walk down the hall with an enormous man following me.
Chapter 2
Henry
I watch as Addison and Gabriel disappear down the hall to the loo, surprised by the feeling of regret that's come over me to see her go. I also find myself wishing I had been a medic in the Air Force, instead of a helicopter pilot like my father and my father's father. But as the Crown Prince of Tanovia, a tiny kingdom off the coast of England, you don't exactly get to decide these things for yourself. Rather, you do what is expected of you from the moment you’re born until your last breath.
At least in my case, my parents have acquiesced on my desire to complete my last year of my Bachelor of International Relations in the United States before I’m to go home, find a queen, and settle down. I get one year of freedom and my goal is to enjoy every last second.
Obviously, they can't grant me complete freedom, hence the twenty-four-hour security detail posing as students. But, at least I'm here enjoying campus life instead of being bored to death at luncheons, galas, and very tedious meetings with the royal advisers.
Johan, my senior bodyguard, gestures for me to have a seat at the table in the corner. "Your parents are waiting for you to have a Skype call. Perhaps you could do it from here?"
"Yes, I suppose." I shrug and make my way to the booth at the back. Sitting down, I keep my eye on the hallway, hoping to see Addison return soon. Johan stands next to the table, facing the front door while I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket and place the call on Skype.
My parents appear on the screen, looking quite worried as usual.
"There you are darling. We thought you forgot again.” My mother is referring to last week's phone call when I was too busy guzzling from a beer bong at a rather wild frat party to remember to call home.
"Hello Mother, Father. You both look well."
"We'd be better if you'd come back home where you belong and finish school here." My father gives me a stern look.
"We've discussed this, Father, and we've agreed I am to have this last bit of freedom before I settle into my role as Crown Prince."
"We may have agreed to it, but it doesn't mean I'm going to like it."
"Well, there it is. We’ll have to agree to disagree then. Is there anything else, then? Because I really need to get on with my studies." Just as the words leave my mouth, a group of girls comes pouring through the door of the café, making an incredible amount of noise.
"Oh yes, I can hear your study partners arriving now." My father has perfected the use of sarcasm.
“I'm at a coffee shop." I turn my phone so that they can see the counter area, purposefully avoiding the group of what I now see are members of some sort of athletic team. Based on the look of them, I'm going to guess volleyball. They're tall and very perky, and several of them are most definitely giving me the eye.
Turning the phone back to me, I say, "I should let you go. It was lovely to see you both."
"You too, darling. Don't forget you’re coming home at Christmas for the wedding." My mother smiles, leaning so close to the web-cam that her nose suddenly looks enormous.
"Yes, of course I'll be there." I most certainly will not be there. I’ve already decided to have a horribly debilitating stomach bug at the time. My father is terrified of catching anything that causes a digestive disturbance so that is pretty much my best bet for staying put rather than rushing off to my stupid cousin Edwin's wedding.
"You will be there," My father says, leaning so he is slightly in front of my mother now. His entire forehead is cut off and I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. "You will be at the wedding, Henry, even if I have to come and drag you home by the collar. Don't forget who's paying for your lifestyle." With that, he ends the call, no doubt before I can argue.
Sliding my mobile back in my jacket pocket, I slump down in my seat a little, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. Going home for Christmas isn’t just an irritating week with my family. I'm also expected to announce my engagement to Bianca Tidsdale, a beautiful but dull-as-all-hell debutante of my parents’ choosing.
Well I have news for my parents that they're not going to like very much. There is no freaking way I'm going to marry her. Or anyone for that matter—not when the world is so full of beautiful women to get to know. If I have my way, I'll be the Hugh Hefner of royals, Playboy Mansion and all. Starting with a certain lovely barista who’s still in the washroom with my bodyguard.
Chapter 3
Addison
"So, tell me about your boss," I say to Gabriel, wincing a little as he dabs my hand with an antiseptic wipe.
"Boss? No. Henry and I are old friends from back home."
"Sure you are. And I’m the Queen of England.” I gesture with my good hand to his ear piece. “Totally normal for a student to carry around a monster first aid kit and have a gun in a holster.
Gabriel turns slightly red and glances at me for a moment. I can tell he's trying to decide whether to fess up or stick with the lie, so I raise one eyebrow at him.
Sighing, he says, "All right. He's my boss. Or more accurately, his parents are my employers."
I want to ask more but I know I shouldn’t be quite so curious about him. A guy like Henry is nothing but trouble for a girl like me. Besides, I don't even like him. He's basically everything I hate in a human being. Spoiled, entitled, and…well, I guess I can't say rude, can I? He was extreme
ly polite and helpful and very concerned when I fell. Chivalrous even. A gorgeous, built, chivalrous heir to some fortune. I suppose I could lower my standards to include a rich guy… "What is he? Heir to some big European company or something?"
"Something like that." Gabriel cuts the tip off a tiny bottle of skin glue with some surgical scissors, then carefully sets to work fixing up the largest gash on my hand. I turn toward the wall, unable to stomach watching any of this.
"Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter who he is. I don't really care for rich people much." I breathe out a slow, shaky breath, trying to force the tears pricking the back of my eyeballs to stay inside. This hurts like a mother freaker.
"Well, he certainly is very rich, but I don't think you'll find Henry bears much resemblance to the average well-to-do person."
"And why would that be?"
"Because very few rich kids have the weight of the world on their shoulders," Gabriel answers. "All done. Should be good as new in a few days." He quickly packs up his materials and steps to the door.
Giving me a little nod, he says, "I'll leave you to get changed, miss."
With that, he's gone before I can really ask what he means by the weight of the world thing. It doesn't really matter anyway, I remind myself. Mr. Rich Henry, heir to whatever, is very likely going to be gone by the time I have my apron on. And if he isn't, seeing me in it will definitely cause him to run.