Be My Princess - A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Pretty Dirty Romance Book 1)

by Dee Dee Jordan

  “Yes, let’s hope.” He pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think I would survive losing you again.”

  What did that mean? She remembered her promise to herself. The one to be fearless and go for what she wanted.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she vowed, meaning every word.

  “Good. Because I wouldn’t let you. You promised. You’re mine. And to hell with everyone else.” He smoothed her hair back from her face when she tipped her head to smile at him. It seemed he’d had the same experience. An awakening. A revelation.

  “I realized down there what was really important. When I thought I was going to die, the only thing that mattered was you. Failing you. I didn’t care about my father, about impressing him. I didn’t care about the money I’d been working so hard to make so our family wouldn’t be cast out of our home. Or with my brother losing the crown. To hell with it all. I’m not going to live my life for anyone else. Not another minute.”

  A tear leaked from her eye. Her nose burned.

  Those were the words she’d longed to hear since she’d arrived. No, since she’d left the island. It was almost too good to believe.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “And I love you.”

  17

  Jenna swallowed hard. Her heart was racing so fast she was dizzy.

  Eat? Was she really going to have to eat tonight?

  At the castle.

  With the king of Aragonia?

  She gulped. Hard. Nope. Consuming anything was going to be impossible tonight.

  She wanted to go back up to that beautiful mountain lodge. Where there was no king. No commitments. No responsibilities. Where Rafe could be free to just love her. And she could love him.

  Why did they have to clear that road yesterday? Why couldn’t they have left it blocked for at least another week or two?

  “You look like you’re about to vomit,” Nichole told her as she blinked at her in the mirror. She picked up a strand of Jenna’s hair and wrapped it around the hot curling wand.

  “I think I may vomit. I feel sick.”

  “Remember, he’s just a man.” Nichole reminded her, checking the temperature of the strand of coiled hair before unwinding it, producing a perfect curl.

  “The man Rafe has spent the better part of his life trying to impress… and failing!”

  “So don’t even try to impress him!” Nichole said. “Rafe is the only man you need to impress. And you’ve already done that.”

  “Yes, but who knows? Rafe could change his mind. He could decide we’re a mistake if his father hates me.”

  Winding another section of Jenna’s hair around the wand, Nichole scowled at her in the mirror. “Do you really distrust him that much?”

  Did she?

  No. Of course not!

  She shook her head. Well, she tried to shake her head. She couldn’t, since Nichole had a chunk wrapped around that hot wand. “No.”

  “Everything will be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right.” Nichole released the strand. Then she gently combed her fingers through the curls, separating them. Jenna watched in the mirror.

  Wow, she could barely recognize herself.

  The two of them had been preparing for this dinner since Jenna had returned from the lodge, drunk on love. Nichole had beamed at her as Jenna had given her a blow-by-blow description of the previous six days spent with Rafe in the mountains. And then she’d taken Jenna shopping for a dress fit for a princess, along with new makeup, and a haircut.

  At last, Jenna could see the end results. It was amazing what a couple of thousand dollars could do for an ordinary girl.

  A soft rap at the bedroom door outside made Jenna almost jump out of her skin. Crap, she was too freaking jumpy. She was going to cause a catastrophe. She could see it already. Something was going to be knocked over or spilled or broken.

  “I can’t do this,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, you can.” Nichole patted her shoulder. “Relax!” She headed out of the bathroom to answer the door. Meanwhile Jenna stared at her reflection.

  Her skin looked so smooth and flawless. Everything about her looked perfect. But inside she was still that same girl, the one with no money, no title, no influence. To sum it up, she was all wrong. Terribly wrong. Horrifically wrong.

  This all-wrong girl was going to throw up.

  “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”

  Rafe!

  He looked like a freaking God, he was so gorgeous. All buttoned up in a tux that fit him perfectly, he loped into the room.

  Jenna jumped up and threw herself at him, smacking her arms around his neck. “I can’t go through with this. How about we sneak out for burgers somewhere?”

  His eyes sparkled as he gripped her waist and grinned down at her. “You’re a little over-dressed for that.”

  “I don’t care. It’ll be a lot more fun to go out. Just the two of us.”

  “I agree.” He lowered his head, brushing his mouth across hers in a teasing kiss. “But it’s too late. Father will be serving before-dinner drinks in the next few minutes. He’ll be waiting for us.”

  Oh God. Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod. She was about to meet a real king. Rafe’s father. The man who he’d struggled to impress his entire life! How would she fare any better? She wouldn’t.

  His Majesty, the king of Aragonia, was going to hate her.

  Rafe stepped back. “You look magnificent, Jenna.” He offered his arm. The gesture was so formal and old-fashioned. But she kind of liked it. Her hand trembled as she slid it into place at the crook of his elbow. “This is just an informal dinner. Mother is wherever Mother is. So it’s only us, my brothers and Father.”

  That made her feel a smidge better. Only a smidge. Because for one, there was Vin. He was a total jerk. And second, they were having an “intimate” dinner with a king. And that meant she was going to be the only guest there he didn’t know.

  No freaking pressure there.

  She wobbled slightly as she followed Rafe’s lead downstairs and outside to the limo idling in Nichole’s driveway. In the car, she sat next to Rafe. But, evidently, that wasn’t close enough. He pulled her onto his lap.

  Now that was nice. Though her dress was in the way and she was worried it would get torn. And he was wearing way too many clothes. But the feel of his arms around her made all those nervous jitters magically go away. And when he cupped her chin, turning her face to his, everything in the world around them dissolved away. Their eyes met and then their mouths, and she was carried far, far away on a river of bliss.

  No man had ever kissed her as thoroughly or as wonderfully as Rafe. Her toes curled. Her fingers curled. Everything in her body curled. Sizzles and zaps burned through her.

  He owned her. And she was happy to give herself to him.

  One of his hands slid up her thigh, and she parted her legs. The car’s interior was stifling. Hot. She was so hot. All she wanted was his hand down there, between her legs.

  No, she wanted more.

  Being careful, not to break the kiss, she pulled her dress up over her hips and swung one leg over his, straddling him. She could feel his thick erection through his pants. It was deliciously naughty, grinding on it as his tongue tangled with hers.

  He groaned, and she smiled. He made her feel so sexy. So wanted. And naughty. She wanted to make his every fantasy come true.

  “I want you,” she whispered against his mouth. “Right now. Right here.”

  “That’s an invitation I’m not sure I can resist.” One of his big hands cupped her breasts, teasing her nipple through the fabric. “You are so fucking hot.”

  Her hips rocked back and forth, back and forth, to the pounding rhythm of her heart. Oh god, did she want this man. He was her fantasy, wrapped up in a great-fitting suit. How could she resist? Lifting herself up off him, she reached down to unzip his pants.

  He stopped her, his hands
catching hers. “Not now.”

  Not now?

  She was so wet her juices had saturated her panties. She wanted his big cock. Now. She wanted to ride him hard. Ride him until he was burning up like she was. She kissed his neck, swirled her tongue in his ear. He smelled so clean and fresh and masculine. She couldn’t get enough of his scent. Or his taste.

  He gathered her hands in his. “Listen to me.”

  She reluctantly stopped kissing him.

  “We’re here.”

  Here?

  Ohhhh! Here!

  He tilted his head to the window before gripping her by the waist and lifting her off him. “I need to make an adjustment. Jenna, what you do to me.” His smile was wicked and sweet all at the same time.

  “What you do to me.” She would never get tired of seeing that smile. Or hearing his voice. Or feeling his touch.

  The strangest, most unexpected thought popped into her head.

  Would his babies have that gorgeous smile? Or those unbelievably breath-taking eyes?

  She wanted to find out. She wanted to have his children.

  He rummaged around in his pants for a moment, putting things in place while she reapplied her lipstick, which, of course, he had kissed off. Then they climbed out of the car, and, hand-in-hand climbed up the front steps of the most beautiful, breathtaking castle she could ever imagine.

  The building was the size of a museum. And every bit as grand. Massive doors, at least twenty or thirty feet, swung open, revealing a marble-floored entryway. A silver-haired man in a tuxedo greeted them as they entered.

  Was he the king?

  “Prince Raphael,” the man said. No, he was not the king. He motioned. “His Grace awaits you and your guest in the front parlor.”

  “Thank you, Simon,” Raphael said, looking and sounding more formal and princely than Jenna had ever seen him. This was a side Jenna hadn’t been acquainted with yet, the public side that he showed when he stepped outside. She marveled at the difference.

  He led her through a pair of towering doors, into a room that was straight off a movie set, reminding her of Downton Abbey. Enormous fireplace. Antiques galore. Heavy, ornate curtains and wall panels and rugs.

  At the center stood a man and a woman. The instant Jenna saw the man’s eyes, she knew he was the king.

  They were gold. The shade of a tiger’s eyes.

  Outside of the silver sparkling at his temples, and a few lines fanning from the corners of his eyes, he was Rafe’s twin.

  “Lara,” Rafe said.

  The woman, Lara, Jenna realized, was not Rafe’s mom. She was too young.

  No, she was Rafe’s age. And had her eyes glued to him, her gaze and expression giving off a possessive vibe.

  Was she an old girlfriend?

  What was she doing here?

  “Hello, Raphael,” Lara said, sauntering toward him. She kissed both cheeks before smiling at him, her mouth and body inches from his. Much, much too few inches. “It’s good to see you again.” Her gaze meandered down Rafe’s lean form. “Where have you been hiding yourself these days? I’ve missed you at the last few charity events.”

  “Lara has recently received the Novak Award, Raphael,” the king piped in. “For her work with orphaned children.”

  Rafe released Jenna’s hand. “If you ladies will excuse me, my father and I need to talk about an important business matter.”

  Lara strolled to the doorway. “Sure, your…” she gave Jenna an up and down look. “Your little American friend and I will meet you in the dining room.” To Jenna she said, “Would you like a little tour of this wing of Dalca Castle? It will give us a chance to get to know each other.”

  Jenna didn’t want to get to know this bitch. She gave Rafe a pleading look, or rather, tried to give him a pleading look. He didn’t see it. He was too busy glaring at his father.

  Clearly, Rafe hadn’t known Lara would be at dinner. And he wasn’t happy about it. That should have made Jenna feel better about the situation. But for some reason it didn’t. For one thing, she was stuck with this… person… for who knew how long.

  Making matters worse, in strolled Vin. Looking as smug as ever. He beamed a greeting at Lara.

  Yep, tonight was already a disaster. She’d had every right to be anxious.

  “I was hoping you would make it tonight,” Lara said as she kissed each of his cheeks. “It’s been too long. At least three weeks. Where’s Asher?”

  “He’s on his way.” Vin slid a brief glance at Jenna then went back to chatting with Lara. “I didn’t know you would be joining us for dinner tonight. What a pleasant surprise. You always liven up a dull dinner party.”

  Lara tittered and looped an arm through his. “Vin, you need to stop with the complements. I’m taken.”

  Gag.

  Lara motioned to Jenna. “Have you been acquainted with… what is your name again?”

  Jenna merely smiled. “Yes, Vin and I have met.”

  “We have,” Vin acknowledged. “I didn’t realize she’s come to Karin for a visit.”

  Jenna didn’t bother with an explanation.

  “I told His Grace I would give… Rafe’s guest… a tour. Will you join us?”

  Vin nodded, leading Lara into the hall. Jenna followed. Begrudgingly.

  “So tell me, are you enjoying your stay in Aragonia?” the woman asked as she swayed down the hall like a beauty pageant contestant, her arm still looped through Vin’s.

  “Yes. Very much.” Jenna wanted to tell this bitch that she’d spent the last week in the mountains, screwing Rafe’s brains out, but she doubted that would impress her. Or scare her off.

  “And you’ll be staying… for how long?” Lara asked, sounding bored. She waved a hand at a nearby doorway. “This is the library.”

  “I’m scheduled to leave in about three weeks.”

  “But you may be leaving sooner?” Moving further down the wide hall with towering ceilings, she pointed at the next door. “And here we have the conservatory. A music room of sorts,” she explained as if Jenna had no clue what a conservatory was.

  Okay, she didn’t. But that was beside the point.

  “No, later,” Jenna corrected. “If things work out as I want them to.”

  “And the ballroom.” Lara pointed at the next door.

  “I wouldn’t unpack if I were you,” Vin cut in.

  Where was Rafe? She was so done with Vin and this bitch.

  Jenna took a deep breath. If she was going to be with him, if their relationship was going to have any chance of lasting, she was going to have to learn how to handle these kinds of situations on her own. With grace. And dignity. She couldn’t go running to Rafe every time her dick brother or some rich bitch gave her a sideways glance.

  Smiling, because she was not going to let either of them shake her, she said, “I suppose only time will tell,” and stepped in front of the pair, instead of following them, even though she had no idea where she was heading.

  Head up.

  Spine straight.

  Shoulders back.

  She could do this. She could fight her own battles. She could be a princess. She would prove it to Rafe. And his father.

  “Isn’t that charming, are you dining with the servants?” Vin said, standing beside a pair of massive doors. Lara was out of sight, likely inside the room.

  Damn it, she’d been so busy giving herself a pep talk that she’d passed the dining room. She did a one-eighty. As she approached the door, Vin braced an arm across the doorway.

  “What are you doing here?” He glowered, gaze raking up and down her body. “You’re nothing but one of my brother’s sluts. You can’t be any more than that. You don’t have the breeding. That’s everything to my brother. Because it’s everything to my father. And we both know that he won’t ever go against our father’s wishes.” He dropped his arm and swiveled, loping into the room.

  Fuming, and feeling slightly sick to her stomach, Jenna gave herself a moment to gather herself, then fo
llowed him inside. She would not cry. Would not.

  Instead of letting Vin’s words play through her head, and mess with it, she focused on the here and now. The ornate room was centered by a massive table that would seat at least thirty people, maybe more. Lara waited while the bastard Vin pulled out her chair for her.

  Not waiting for him to do the same for her, because she knew he wouldn’t, Jenna selected a seat opposite her.

  Vin sat to Lara’s right.

  “Raphael will marry me,” Lara said, lifting a dainty hand to signal to the servant. “Wine, please.”

  “Of course, Miss Balan,” the servant said before filling her cup. After serving Vin, he scurried, silent as a whisper, to Jenna’s side and offered her some wine as well.

  She looked at Lara. Then Vin. She-devil. Demon. Yes, she was in hell.

  Where were Rafe, Asher, the king?

  As tempting as it was to drink herself into a numb stupor, she was going to need to keep her wits intact if she was going to get through this meal. “No, thank you. I’ll have water instead.”

  “Very good, Miss.” The servant vanished and another took his place, this one holding a silver pitcher.

  Lara leered at Jenna as she sipped her wine. “Raphael has these little… dalliances. I’ve told him I will allow him that. As long as they stay out of the press. Which is why I’m here tonight. You see, it doesn’t look good for me to accept his marriage proposal when there are photographs all over the papers of him groping some American piece of trash.” She inhaled.

  Vin’s lips twitched. Asshole. He was loving this.

  Jenna bit back a trashy insult. No need to prove this bitch’s point.

  “We have only a few weeks to clean up this mess before our engagement will be announced,” Lara said to Vin. “She needs to leave.”

  “She will,” Vin responded.

  No she won’t. Like she was going to just pack up and go because this bitch wanted her to? “I’m not at liberty to leave,” Jenna told them.

  “Why is that?” Vin asked.

  “Because I’ve been hired to do a job,” Jenna blurted. Then, when Lara smiled, she realized her mistake. Admitting she was here working, to a woman who probably thought JOB was a four-letter word was akin to admitting she was a poor gold-digger chasing Rafe for his money.