by Holly Hart
“Where have you been hiding yourself?” she asks. “It’s like you dropped off the face of the earth in the last month!”
Dante ignores the questions and raises a hand towards me.
“Giselle Ranette, I’d like you to meet Amanda Sparks.”
She glances in my direction and gives me a brief glimpse of that gap in her teeth.
“Hello,” she says, then turns back to Dante. “You never told me you were getting rid of Maria. At least you know this one can’t possibly be any worse than her.”
Excuse me, bitch?
“Why don’t you join me for a drink after this?” she says, rummaging in her purse. “I’ll give you a key to my suite at the Continental. It’s been too long, lover.”
Right in front of me. I can’t believe this.
Dante holds up his free hand. The other one is still holding my ring.
“I’m afraid you misunderstand, Giselle. Amanda is…”
“Your assistant, yes, I know. As soon as she’s on her way, we can go have some fun.”
She takes Dante by the arm and tries to plant a kiss on his neck, but he pulls away.
That’s it. My dad always taught me that you should never start a fight. He never followed his own advice, though, and neither will I.
“Excuse me,” I say, smiling ever so sweetly. “Giselle, is it?”
She looks me up and down, obviously not used to being interrupted.
“Yes,” she sneers. “You should probably remember it if you’re going to keep working for Dante.”
Dante opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off.
“First of all,” I say. “I don’t work for His Highness. I’m his date.”
She gives me another critical once-over, then turns to Dante.
“Seriously, love? You’re slumming it with American girls now?”
“Secondly,” I say, grabbing her arm and spinning her so that she’s facing me again. “Maria is a dear friend of mine, so I’d ask you to keep your comments about her to yourself when you’re around me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a half-dozen people with their phones up in front of them, holding them parallel with their eyes. I’m being recorded.
And I don’t care.
Giselle’s mouth is hanging open as she glares at me. If looks could kill, I’d be taking the big dirt nap right now. But they can’t, so I keep on going.
“Thirdly, and most importantly, where I come from, it’s considered incredibly rude to hit on another person’s boyfriend.”
I can’t help but feel an obscene satisfaction at the look of disbelief blooming in her eyes. She turns to Dante, who simply tilts his head to the side and lifts his eyebrows. All eyes in the place, and more than a few cameras, are now on us.
Suddenly I realize that this isn’t how I wanted our proposal to go. But I can’t stop myself.
Giselle’s face is twisted into an ugly mask now. She’s angry and humiliated, which can be a dangerous combination.
“Fine,” she spits. “Have fun with your American slut. When you want a real woman, call me. Maybe I’ll answer.”
“And you can call me if you ever decide you want a dentist to look at those teeth,” I say. “I’ll send you to the one who works on the horses at our ranch.”
I barely have time to register all the gasps among the crowd around us before I hear the cracking sound of her palm connecting with my cheek. My head turns with the force of the blow.
“Amanda!” I hear Dante call.
The smug satisfaction on Giselle’s face lasts for all of two seconds before my right fist plows into her thin nose.
Chapter Twenty-Two
21. DANTE
Marco’s weight shifts to his forward foot as he prepares to step out of the shadowy corner where he’s been standing, but I halt him with a raised hand. His face droops, but he stays where he is.
I push Giselle out of the way to get to Amanda.
“Are you hurt?” I ask. Her cheek is slightly pink where the slap landed.
“Pft,” she says, eyes blazing. “She couldn’t swat a fly with a swing like that.”
I kiss her cheek anyway. Our encounter has stirred up plenty of interest among the other patrons, and the paparazzi aren’t even trying to stay hidden now. Half a dozen of them are openly filming with their mobiles.
Giselle’s face is beet red, whether with anger or embarrassment I don’t know. Probably both.
“You little bitch,” she breathes, eyes wide. “I’ll have you arrested – ”
“Bring it!” Amanda barks.
I know this isn’t funny but it’s all I can do to keep from laughing like a maniac right now. How many times in my life have I wished that I could do what Amanda just did? I’m so proud of her I could burst.
Some of the patrons move closer to get a better view of the scene. Now I feel like we’re on one of those reality television shows that feed on childish behavior.
“I’m actually glad that you’re here, Giselle,” I say. “Since you seem to have a problem taking no for an answer, let me make things abundantly clear for you.”
I drop to one knee and take Amanda’s hand in my free one. The other is still holding my mother’s ring.
The gasp among the Riviera’s elite is audible.
“My love,” I say. “Even though we’ve only been together a short time, I find that I can’t imagine my life without you.”
The words flow out of me, though different from the ones I rehearsed on the flight from England. Amanda does her part by looking astonished.
“Your kindness, your grace, your incredible beauty have humbled me in a way I didn’t know was possible. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake, and the last before I sleep. When you walked into my life, it was as if someone had opened a window into a beautiful world that I didn’t even know existed.”
I let go of her hand and open the box to reveal the ring.
“Amanda Sparks,” I say. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
My heart hammers in my chest, even though we both know she’ll say yes. After all, she’s under contract.
As I gaze into those pale blue eyes, though, I can’t help but feel a moment of panic. What if she says no?
I don’t think of the monarchy, or my fortune, but of the twins. And myself. After only a handful of days, Amanda has become an indispensable part of our lives.
Then the tears squirt out of the corners of her eyes, and as she nods, my heart soars.
“Yes,” she says, snuffling back tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I slip the ring onto her finger and rise to my feet. Somewhere around us, I’m vaguely aware of flashes going off and people cheering. But all I care about is her. When we’re this close, the world disappears again.
Amanda’s mouth meets mine for the second time today. Not probing this time, but familiar. Each long kiss ends with another short one, a signature at the end of the letter. After what seems like an eternity, we stop, letting our brows touch, feeling the closeness as we stare into each other’s eyes.
I’m suddenly aware of all the people clapping around us.
“I guess we can’t put it off any longer,” she says with a soft grin.
We both inhale deeply and turn to face the cameras.
“Holy shit!” cries Amanda. “We’re already on TMZ!”
I take a seat next to her on the Falcon’s sofa as we streak through the skies back to Morova. Marco is in the jump seat of the cockpit, chatting with our pilots and giving Amanda and me some privacy.
“That didn’t take long,” I say, handing her a bottle of Stella Artois.
“Thanks,” she says absently, still looking at the screen of her MacBook. “I really don’t like champagne.”
“Sorry, we don’t carry Budweiser on the jet. But I’ll have Maria bring some in as soon as possible.”
“You’ll be my dad’s best friend if you do.”
From your lips to God’s ear.
“
The headline reads ‘Who’s that girl?’” she says, frowning. “They’re using the bio information Renaldo fed them and posting pics from my Facebook page. That’s kind of creepy.”
“I truly am sorry,” I say. “Privacy and royalty rarely go hand-in-hand. Are you sure you’re prepared for what’s to come?”
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t. It’ll just take some getting used to. I never thought about social media, though. Dad’s probably not the only one I should have warned about this.”
As if to underscore what she just said, the screen fills with message notifications.
“Shit,” she mutters. “Now I’ve got about two dozen ‘OMG!’ posts from people. I’ll let Dad know that he can tell my family. The friends I’ll worry about later.”
She looks at me with an evil smile. “Let them stew in their jealousy for awhile.”
This woman continues to surprise me. I feared the attention might turn her into a shrinking violet; instead it’s unleashed a beast.
“Did any of the photographers catch your right cross on video?” I ask.
“At least one,” she says sheepishly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was self-defense, and I have an army of lawyers. You’ll never see the inside of a courtroom.”
“That’s good. I’ve seen Orange Is The New Black. I know what goes on inside prisons.”
I can’t help but chuckle. What on earth did I ever see in a woman like Giselle? The only time she ever laughed was at someone else’s expense.
“Oh my God,” says Amanda, rolling her eyes at the screen. “Someone’s already created an ‘Amandante’ hashtag on Twitter.”
“Well, it’s good to know we’re trending.”
She cackles at my lame joke. “Yeah, who needs wedding invitations? We can invite everyone by social media.”
“But we’ll have to take all the formalities out of it if we want to stay under 140 characters.”
“How about ‘Hashtag Amandante wedding, be there! See our website for deets!’”
We chuckle together as I slide alongside her to read the screen. In truth, I’m not paying attention to the online chatter – it’s been part and parcel of my life for a decade. I just want to be closer to her.
“What is that intoxicating scent?” I ask. “I’ve been wondering all day.”
Her cheeks suddenly turn red.
“You’re going to laugh,” she says.
“I would never,” I say gravely.
“You promise?”
“On my princely honor. Whatever that is.”
“Okay. It’s Fantasy by Britney Spears.”
I do an admirable job of resisting the urge to laugh. Instead, I lean in closer.
“What is your fantasy, Amanda?” I ask, eyes locked on hers.
“I guess I’m living it,” she says quietly. “I mean, I just got engaged to the most handsome prince in the world.”
“You must have more fantasies than that.”
Our noses are almost touching. She bites her bottom lip.
“I do,” she breathes. “Lots more.”
The computer slides off her lap and makes a muted thump as it hits the carpeted floor below.
Chapter Twenty-Three
22. AMANDA
I’ve been fantasizing about this since our encounter in the gardens. I never dreamed I’d be fulfilling it on a private jet flying over the Mediterranean.
Dante takes my head in his hands and pulls me gently to his lips. His fingers wind through my hair as our tongues meet and say hello for the third time today.
Everything that’s happened today, from seeing the Queen to decking a supermodel, has got me revved up like a NASCAR engine. And now that we’re engaged, I’m not holding anything back.
Well, except that. But Dante knows that, and we’ve got a lot of practicing to do for our wedding night.
My hands pull his polo shirt over his head with one smooth motion, exposing his iron physique. His pecs become my playground as I glide my hands over them and my mouth moves down to his nipples.
I have no idea if I’m supposed to be licking them, but Dante’s moans suggest that it’s okay with him.
Suddenly I want him to be totally naked in front of me, the way I was in front of him in the gardens. I reach for his belt and fumble with the notches before pulling it free of his slacks. Dante kicks off his deck shoes to help with the next part as I open the fly and yank them free of his legs.
My heartbeat rushes in my ears as I look at him, sitting on the sofa in only a pair of silk boxers. His shorts are straining against his huge, hard cock.
“You certainly do have a family sword,” I purr, reaching in through the fly and pulling his member free. I have a much better view of it this time: long and thick, veins visible under the gleaming skin. It bobs at my touch.
“And it’s all yours,” he breathes.
Our eyes meet as I begin to stroke all the way up to the head, then all the way down to the base. I can almost fit both my hands along the length of his shaft.
Even without touching myself, my panties are already damp.
Dante reaches down between groans and slides my sundress off my shoulders. I let go of him for a moment to wiggle out of the straps, allowing my tits to pop free. He looks at them lovingly.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he sighs as I return to his cock.
It’s all so new, but I want to try everything. Each time I touch him, it sparks a wave of pleasure in me. It’s like I’ve been on a diet all my life and suddenly I’m standing in front of an all-you-can eat buffet.
Without thinking, I lean down and kiss the thick tip. His groan makes my clit tingle, and I squeeze my thighs together to get the most of the feeling.
My mouth slides down over the head as my tongue explores the underside of his cock. The salty taste from the sweat of the day makes me want to take even more in my mouth. With each swirl of my tongue, I can feel Dante throb in my mouth.
My first ever blow job, and it’s on the most eligible bachelor in the world. And in a few days, he’s going to be my husband. The excitement almost makes me come just on its own.
He leans forward and pulls me upwards so that our eyes meet.
“Soon,” he says. “But not too soon.”
With that, he reaches behind me and unzips my dress. I stand up, letting in fall to the floor. His hands are on my panties immediately, pulling them off with no finesse whatsoever.
And that’s fine with me.
He stands and slips off his shorts so that the two of us are finally completely naked with each other.
His eyes roam over my body as he strokes my arms. I’ve never been so self-conscious. I mean, his last girlfriend was a supermodel. I’m just a cowgirl.
“Am I all right?” I whisper, shocked at how eager I am for his approval.
He smiles softly. “You’re more than all right,” he says. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
He pulls me to him. Our mouths meet as the skin of his cock presses against my mound. His hands gently squeeze my breasts, sending shockwaves of pleasure all down my body. Finally his tongue leaves mine and finds my nipples.
My moans spur him on to more action. He slides his cock back towards my clit, obviously remembering what it did to me in the gardens. But now the urgency is so strong I can’t hold off for more than a few seconds. I grip his shoulders as my hips buck against the pressure of his cock, my orgasm hitting me like a jackhammer.
I lose myself in the moment, allowing the strength of his arms to carry me through the waves, trusting him to hold onto me and never let go. I plant my face on the nape of his neck, trying to slow my breathing as the wave subsides.
“You’ve done that to me twice,” I pant. “I want to do it to you.”
His eyes light up as I say it. His eagerness turns me on even more, if that’s possible.
“I have an idea,” he says. “We can both do it to each other.”
He hasn’t forgotten the one road we can’t go do
wn, has he? Then he lies down on the sofa and grabs me by the hips, and I realize what he’s doing.
I follow his lead, straddling him as I prop myself on my elbows in front of his cock. Having him so close to my opening makes me suddenly nervous – and insanely excited.
“I’m sorry I’m so wet,” I say. “You’re just so good at this…”
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” he growls, grabbing my ass with his hands and pulling my mound down to his mouth. I practically explode from the heat when his lips touch me down there.
I never imagined anything could feel so good, so right.
My legs quiver as he works his tongue in and out of my slit, back to front, up and down. As he does, I draw his hard shaft into my mouth again, going down as far as I can. I take care of the rest of him with my hand, gripping the base of his cock and pumping it slowly.
Dante pulls his mouth off my pussy long enough to gasp. My body is already begging for his touch again, and he doesn’t leave me wanting for long. He comes back with a vengeance, pressing his tongue hard against my clit as his thumbs open me ever wider.
Is it like this for everyone? I thought I knew my way around my own pussy, but Dante is showing me a whole new world. My God, why did I wait so long? I never knew what I was missing.
As I feel my second orgasm building, I grab hold of his cock for dear life. I want so much to make him feel the same way he makes me feel.
“Amanda,” he groans. “God, that feels sooo good…”
I take it even deeper in my mouth, until I can’t possibly take any more. He responds by sucking my clit into his mouth, and the ecstasy almost makes me fall off the couch. I have to leave his cock behind for a second as I catch my breath, but I return to it as quickly as I can.
Dante’s hips start to move up and down, slowly, in time with my strokes. At the same time, I start to press downwards with my own hips in a rhythm that builds as the pressure of his tongue increases. The urgency increases until we’re both hammering home into the other’s mouth, building the waves until they finally come crashing against the shore.
I pull my mouth off his cock at the moment of my orgasm, gasping for air. As I do, I hear him groan loudly, inspiring me to pump him as hard and as fast as I can.