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

by Dee Dee Jordan

  But it was too late now. What had been said was said.

  “Hired? By whom?” Lara asked.

  Jenna sealed her lips. She was in the bitches’ court, where everything she said, absolutely everything, would be held against her.

  Fortunately the door opened and in strolled the three men.

  Asher gave Jenna a great big smile. “Hi Jenna, it’s good to see you again.”

  Rafe’s smile wasn’t as exuberant. Probably because he was still angry with his father. But his eyes were kind and reassuring.

  And the king, yeah, he didn’t give her a second glance. But he was sure glad to see Lara.

  After greeting his pick for Rafe’s wife, the king took his seat at the head of the table. Jenna waited and watched to see where Rafe would sit—between her and his father, or beside his supposed fiancée.

  Asher took the empty seat between Lara and the king. As she’d expected, Rafe sat beside Jenna. Then he reached under the table and gave her hand a squeeze.

  He was on her side. Everything would be okay.

  She squeezed Rafe back and, ignoring the glowering Lara, enjoyed the spectacle of dinner being served, formal style, by gloved male servants. Jenna took a little of each offering, eager to try them all. Everything smelled delicious. Once the last dish had circled the room the men all disappeared, leaving the foursome to dine in peace.

  “So tell me, how is your father doing?” the king asked Lara.

  She blathered on and on. Jenna, on the other hand, sat silently by Rafe’s side, tasting tiny bits of all the scrumptious foods on her plate. The woman’s nonstop manifesto held the king’s attention, which actually eased Jenna’s jumpy nerves. But the longer the conversation between the king and Lara continued, the more obvious it became that he was intentionally ignoring her.

  And she wasn’t the only one to notice.

  “Father.” Rafe bit out, slamming his hands on the table. “I will not have you treating my guest like this.”

  “Like what, son?” The king blinked, his expression suggesting he was confused, but his tone saying something else entirely. “I’ve said nothing rude to her.”

  “That’s because you haven’t said anything to her at all.”

  “Well, which would you prefer?” the king said, giving Jenna the most scornful look she’d ever received.

  The chilling glare made her wish she could curl up in her seat and vanish. But the inner princess in her refused to let her shrink away. She hiked up her chin and glared right back.

  His royal king-ness didn’t like her? Well that was just fine. Because she didn’t like him either, king or not. He didn’t know her. How could he judge her?

  “It isn’t like this… tramp will be around for long, son. Why are you making such a fuss over her?” The king motioned to her, a flick of his royal hand. “It’s easy to see the attraction. She’s a beautiful girl. But you know you’ll soon tire of her, and then you’ll come back to Miss Balan. The two of you will be married—“

  “No!” Rafe interrupted. “I will not marry Lara. There’s a reason why I’ve broken up with her again and again. She’s not the woman for me.”

  “And you think this little scrap of American trash is?”

  Rafe jumped to his feet and grabbed his father by the lapels, hauling him off his chair, which slammed backward, striking the floor with a sharp crack. Asher sprung to his feet and grappled with Rafe, yanking him away from their father. “Rafe, stop. He’s not worth it. You know better. You know who the real tramp is.”

  Hah!

  “Don’t ever, ever, talk like that about Jenna again!” Rafe growled, teeth gritted.

  “Now there’s the man I’ve been waiting to see,” the king said, his voice icy. “I was beginning to doubt you had it in you, son. If nothing else, at least she’s brought that out of you.”

  “I don’t care what you want to see anymore, Father.” Rafe jerked from from Asher’s hold and shoved the king backward, and he staggered, catching his balance before he went sprawling over the toppled chair. Vin ran to the fallen king’s aid, stepping around them to offer a hand up. “I’m done trying to impress you. I’m going to make my own decisions from this point forward. To hell with you. I didn’t have any chance of earning your respect, no matter what I did anyway.”

  “You’re a better judge of character than he will ever be,” Asher piped in, stabbing a finger at the king. “Glad to see you are finally seeing it.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, son! Some mistakes can’t be undone,” his father warned.

  Jenna watched the argument, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe. He was doing it. At last! Rafe was standing up to his father. He had become his own man. And she’d been the one to inspire him to take that step. With a little help from the quiet but kind Asher.

  God, she loved him! She was so proud of him for speaking his mind, for taking control of his life and making a stand.

  Rafe was strong. He was honorable. And sexy. And adorable. And brave.

  He was the man of her dreams.

  “Exactly. That’s what a marriage to Lara would be--a disaster. I’ve made my choice, the right one for me.” He circled around the table and dropped to his knee. “Jenna McCall, will you be my wife?”

  There was no hesitation. No reason to think about it. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Then she mashed her mouth to his.

  Rafe was her man. Hers. And she belonged to him.

  Their road to love hadn’t been smooth. In fact, it had been really bumpy. But at last they were on this journey together. Hand-in-hand, looking toward the future as one.

  Epilogue

  Jenna stared at her reflection in the mirror.

  She was at the church—correction, make that the beautiful, ornately decorated cathedral that rivaled Britain’s Westminster Abbey. At the moment she was in a room with an antique dressing table and mirrors, couches and chairs, a place where countless other princesses and queens had prepared for their weddings, where kings had been prepared for their coronations, and royal babies had been dressed for christening. Even this room, which was gorgeous but humble compared to the nave where the ceremony would take place, just oozed history.

  The nave--that was a whole other thing, with its soaring arched ceilings and priceless stained glass windows and hand-carved stone columns. That place was breathtaking. Literally. She had never been inside of a building that was so opulent. Of all the places she’d thought she might be married someday, a cathedral like this had never been a possibility. It blew her mind. This whole thing was blowing her mind.

  She was about to become Mrs. Raphael Karposh Stojanovski! She was so excited about that. Actually the word excited was an understatement. Words could not describe how happy she was to be marrying Rafe.

  As far as becoming a princess, yeah, she wasn’t as thrilled about that. The title princess didn’t come without its strings, all the responsibilities and obligations and challenges. Frankly, she had no idea yet what those entailed. Though she knew one thing—the whole world would be watching everything she did, said and wore. No pressure there. No pressure at all.

  She had seen all the press Princess Kate had gotten before and after her marriage into the British royal family. How would she fare any better? She didn’t even have the benefit of attending private schools or socializing with nobles. She was bound to screw up. To use the wrong fork at a dinner or say the wrong thing to a dignitary. Sure, she had Rafe’s help and support. And Asher’s too. But how much could they do? Rafe couldn’t stick to her side all the time.

  Not to mention, she still had to deal with Vin and the king, both of whom had made it clear she was not good enough to be a part of the royal family.

  One thing was for sure. The Aragonian royals put on ridiculously extravagant weddings. And that was after Rafe fought to keep things “simple.”

  Obviously simple was a relative term.

  Mikki, her maid of honor, gave her shoulder a nudge. “A
re you okay?”

  Nichole, her other bridesmaid, gave her a worried look. “Jenna?”

  “I’m good,” she told them both.

  How could she not be good, right? She was marrying the man of her dreams. She was having a wedding straight out of a fairy tale. And she looked like a fairy tale princess, thanks to the help of team of the professionals hired to help her get ready for today.

  And her dress. Ohmygod, the dress. Neither too modern nor too old fashioned, it was a concoction of satin and lace and crystals that fit every curve of her body to perfection. In all, the girl looking back at her in the mirror looked like a modern Cinderella.

  And yet her insides were all a-jumble. Today was a huge deal. If she messed up she would be off to a horrible start as a princess.

  Oh God, what if she forgot her vows? In front of a million people?

  She recited them in her head. I promise to love and honor…

  “You don’t look good,” Mikki said. At Jenna’s faux glare in the mirror, she corrected herself. “I mean, you look gorgeous but you don’t look like you’re as excited as I thought you’d be. You’re going to be a princess, Jenna! Aren’t you happy about that?”

  Was she happy about that? Yes… and no. Did her lack of enthusiasm make her a failure at princess-ing already? Didn’t every little girl dream of being a princess?

  “Frankly, I don’t really care about being a princess. What really matters is becoming Rafe’s wife.”

  Mikki’s reflection smiled. “You’ll be a wonderful wife.”

  Nichole nodded, adding, “You’ll be a wonderful princess too. The Aragonian people are going to love you!”

  “I’m fairly confident of the wife part. But the princess part--”

  Someone knocked on the door, and Jenna cut herself off. Nobody but Mikki and Nichole needed to hear about her becoming-a-princess insecurities.

  “Your Grace!” Nichole exclaimed, stepping aside.

  In walked the most stunning woman Jenna had ever seen. Tall. Slender. Regal. Dressed in a cream and sky blue dress that fit her figure perfectly, a mass of dark waves piled on top of her head, woven inside the jewel-encrusted crown.

  Crown. Her Grace. That could mean only one thing.

  Jenna stood to greet her new queen, the mother Rafe said so little about.

  The queen smiled and the whole room seemed to light up.

  Now Jenna knew where Rafe got his stop-your-heart smile. “Your Grace.”

  The queen glided to her. “I finally meet my new daughter.” Taking Jenna’s shoulders, she placed a kiss on each of Jenna’s cheeks. “Welcome to the family.”

  Jenna gaped for a split second or two. “Th-thanks.”

  “You look a little nervous.” The queen’s hand swept down Jenna’s arm until it curled around her hand. “Come, let’s have a little talk.”

  Jenna’s heart jumped. Oh gosh, was she about to be lectured? Interrogated? Insulted? Rafe hadn’t told her much about his mother. Was she a lot like the king? Worse? A smidge wary, she followed the queen’s lead, to the nearby settee.

  Once they were seated, the queen placed a hand on Jenna’s knee. “I have been looking forward to this day since my Raphael graduated from university. It took him longer than I had hoped to find his bride, but the day has come and I can tell already that he has, in wisdom that comes with age, chosen well. I guess it’s a good thing he waited.”

  That was a good start. Jenna’s racing heart slowed slightly. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “You have a pure heart,” she said, eyes glittering. “Which is both a gift and a curse. You will love my son the way I had hoped. But you will suffer for it too. The life of a member of this royal family comes with its challenges. My husband, for one. And our eldest son.”

  Jenna couldn’t help giggling. “I’ve learned that already.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll stick together, you and me. And you’ll have Raphael, of course, to help you. You’ll be okay.”

  God, Jenna hoped she was right about that. She nodded.

  “You’re afraid?”

  “A little.”

  “I was afraid too. Afraid of the unknown. I too came from humble beginnings.”

  Jenna felt her brows lift. She couldn’t imagine this woman ever being anything other than regal, royal, a queen. She was born to be a queen.

  “It’s true. Grigori and I married for love. Against his father’s wishes. Not long after we married, however, my husband regretted his choice. Because he let his father get between us and cause trouble. I want to reassure you that Raphael will never follow in his father’s footsteps. He is a very different man. And I am very proud of him.”

  Now, Jenna understood why the queen had been absent for the entire wedding planning. Yes, she’d expected the queen to be busy, but not completely absent. Jenna’s insides twisted with pity. How horrible it must be, if the queen felt she had to stay away, even when her son was planning his wedding. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You may ask me anything.”

  “Do you regret it, Your Grace? Do you regret marrying the king?”

  “Not for a moment. My marriage isn’t the happiest the world has ever known, but I’m happy. I found my voice and my passion. I love what I do, the good I can accomplish as the queen of Aragonia. You won’t need to bury yourself in your work as I have, but I encourage you to find your voice as well. Take up the cause that means the most to you. If you do, you will be a wonderful princess, my dear.”

  At last, Jenna felt at peace with becoming a princess. She knew what to do, what cause to embrace—the cause that had brought her to Rafe in the first place. That was the key to everything.

  “It’s time,” Mikki announced.

  Teary-eyed, Jenna gave her new mother-in-law a hug. Holy crap, her wedding hadn’t even started, and she was crying already. She dragged her thumbs under her eyes, trying hard not to smear her makeup. She didn’t want to know what Rafe’s family had paid for the makeup artist who had done her face. “Thank you. I don’t think anyone but you could have helped me with this.”

  “You’re welcome, my dear.” The queen kissed her cheeks. “Thank you. For making my Raphael happy.”

  Sniffling, Jenna stood, and Mikki and Nichole hurried to her side, fluffing her skirts and fussing with her veil. Mikki handed Jenna her bouquet.

  This was it. She was about to get married! Jenna’s heart thundered as the queen stepped through the doorway. Mikki and Nichole followed the queen. Jenna’s brothers flanked the doorway, each offering an elbow as she passed through. They looked so handsome, decked out in tuxedos that fit their athletic bodies perfectly. All dressed up, hair cut short, faces shaved, they looked like their father when he had died, so many years ago.

  It was almost as if she were being given away by her father.

  “I can’t believe my little sister is marrying a prince,” her oldest brother Jake proclaimed as they led her down the corridor toward the entry to the nave.

  “Does this mean we have to stop calling you Squeak?” her other brother Landon teased.

  Jenna giggled. “Yes, from this point forward it’s Your Grace Squeak to you.”

  Jake gave a faux grimace. “Such formality. I’m just a beat cop from Detroit. I don’t know if I can get used to all this Your Grace stuff.”

  Jenna gave his arm a squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

  They stopped just outside the entry.

  “Well, this is it. Are you sure you want to marry a prince and live happily-ever-after, Jenna?” Jake asked. “Say the word, and we’ll get you out of here. No questions asked.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Fair enough.” Jake nodded to Landon.

  The bride’s entrance song started.

  And then she was marching down the aisle, with her brothers at her sides and the music playing, hundreds of people standing, staring at her. For a split second, she halted, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. But then she found Rafe’s sweet, kind face at
the front of the church and all her tangled nerves unraveled.

  She had never imagined she could be so happy.

  At the front, Rafe took her hands in his. He mouthed, “You look so beautiful,” to her and she was swept up in the ceremony, in hearing his vows and reciting hers, in exchanging the rings and lighting the candle. And before she knew it, it was done and the cardinal was saying, “You may kiss the bride.”

  With those words, she was sealed to Rafe. Legally. Officially. They were one.

  She was Mrs. Raphael Karposh Stojanovski, princess of Aragonia.

  Beaming, his smile brighter than a freaking supernova, her husband cupped Jenna’s chin, lifting it. He mouthed, “Mine,” before pressing his mouth to hers.

  His. She was his. And he was hers. And nobody, or nothing could take him away from her, not even a king. She tossed her arms over his shoulders, looping them around his neck and fell head-over-heels in love with him all over again.

  Could anyone love any harder? She didn’t think it was possible.

  He pulled back, and suddenly she became aware of the shouts and cheers echoing through the massive church. Bells rang. Outside, thousands of Aragonian citizens gathered, flags waving, waiting for the new princess to come bounding from the ancient cathedral to greet them.

  Ohmygod, it was real. She was Rafe’s wife!

  Together, they turned to face the crowd standing inside the massive stone building, applauding. Someone nudged her arm. She turned to find Mikki, smacking her with her bouquet.

  “Take this!” she insisted, shoving the bouquet into Jenna’s hand.

  Beside Mikki, Nichole laughed. “I like her!” she said, indicating Mikki. “I say we blow off the pictures, get drunk and find us some men!” Nichole offered an elbow.

  “I’m game for that,” Mikki said, hooking her elbow through Nichole’s. “Later!” The two new friends flounced off, going the wrong way.

  Jenna called out, but Rafe patted her arm. “Ready?”

  She glanced at the front row of pews, at her brothers, standing with their wives, applauding and looking so proud and happy for her. “Yes. I’m ready.”