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Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

Page 137

by Susan Stoker


  I could feel my anger giving way to sadness, and I knew I was about two seconds away from a full-on ugly cry.

  I flung the door open and all but shoved him into the hall.

  “I hope you and Princess Zahra are very happy together,” I spat. “I never want to see you again.”

  At that moment, I fully intended to book the next flight back to New York. I no longer cared about my job, or the kingdom of Osei, or anyone in it.

  Tears streaked down my face as I stared at him. He stared back, his mouth making the same fish-like movements it had earlier. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. It was a lot less endearing now.

  “Don’t leave.” His plea was barely a whisper, and I realized he knew me better than I thought. “Come to the ball. Dance with me.”

  I grabbed the door handle and started to swing it closed slowly. My eyes were on his face, memorizing it, and my heart was breaking.

  “Marry me.”

  I stopped the door in its path and stared at him. “Don’t say that, Mazi. Don’t fuck with me. I think you’ve done that enough for one day. Just please shut up. Shut up, and leave and marry Zahra, and have a wonderful life!”

  I swung the door again, harder this time, intending to slam it in his face.

  He caught it. “I will, Norah, if I have to. For my father, and for tradition, and for my country, but for the record, I told them to shove their arranged marriage and that I was in love with you.”

  The door slammed in my face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mazi

  As far as Norah was concerned, I had done all that I could. I had laid my heart on the line, both with her and with my father regarding her. I had sent flowers, and texts, and left voicemails. I had done everything I possibly could to make my intentions clear, while still giving her the space she had asked for.

  I had even made sure she was properly outfitted for the ball, on the off chance she took my messages to heart and showed up tonight.

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that by the end of the night I would be engaged. The question now was, to whom?

  Zahra was stunning. A true Nigerian princess, in more than just title, and it was easy to see why my father had chosen her for me. She was well-spoken, well-read, and well-traveled. She had a beautiful smile and a sense of humor. She could banter as well as she could battle.

  After five minutes with her, I had no doubt that she would be enough to make me a very happy man, and that falling in love with her would be no hardship.

  One trip around the ballroom with her showed that she was well-liked by those who knew her and well-received by those just meeting her.

  It wasn’t her fault that I couldn’t keep my eyes off the door. I kept looking for Norah every time a door opened or closed. So far, nothing.

  “Mazi?” My name flowed off Zahra’s tongue with a cool elegance, and I realized she had been speaking to me for a while.

  “Hmm?” I answered distractedly, my eyes everywhere but on hers. I didn’t want that connection. I didn’t want to see the kindness they held, or the trust. Zahra thought that our marriage was a sure thing. And I was letting her think that. I didn’t know what else to do.

  “I asked if you would like to dance. I heard they call you the Dancing King.”

  Her smile was genuine, and there was none of the saccharine sarcasm most people used when they quoted the tabloids.

  And it made me feel like a giant ass. Douchebag of the year. She didn’t deserve what I was currently doing. Stringing her along, keeping her on the hook in case things with Norah didn’t work out—but I felt like I had no choice.

  “Sure,” I answered easily, taking her hand and lifting it to my lips before I guided her out onto the dance floor.

  The song was a slow one. I loved dancing with a woman, but I was currently feeling like a sixth grader who took his girlfriend to a school dance. I led her by the shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length, as we moved in rhythm with the sensuous beat of a popular love song.

  She looked at me oddly, probably expecting me to be a much better dancer, and moved in closer, laying her head on my shoulder.

  Her skin was soft and she smelled amazing, and all I could think was what if Norah walked in while we were dancing?

  She didn’t. The song ended, and she still hadn’t shown. My chest tightened as I glanced at the clock. My father had given me what was more or less an ultimatum. Announce my engagement by the time the clock struck twelve or he would do it for me. Like I was a goddamned Cinderella or something, but without a fairy godmother or glass slippers.

  It was twenty after eleven.

  I regarded Zahra nervously. The subject of marriage had yet to be broached between us, mostly because I had been holding out hope that Norah would show up.

  It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. I opened my mouth, intending to invite her out on the balcony to chat. But when I did, the music started again, and I could tell by the way her eyes lit up that it was a song she liked, so all I said was, “One more dance?”

  And we took to the dance floor once more. It was a five-minute song, but I felt every minute. Time rushed by and seemed to drag at the same time.

  When it was over, Zahra fanned herself with her hand and gazed longingly out the large doors leading to the balcony. I’d have to have been a cad not to take the hint.

  “Let’s go outside and get to know each other a bit.” I took her hand and guided her through the crowd when she nodded her agreement.

  The balcony was crowded with people escaping the heat of the crowded dance floor, but there was a small table and chairs in a far corner that was unoccupied. I led her to it and pulled out Zahra’s chair for her before sitting myself.

  Beyond that, I didn’t know what to say or do. Luckily, Zahra broke the ice.

  “So, marriage, huh? What do you think about that?”

  My mouth dried, and my heart pounded as I willed myself to answer neutrally. I had no idea what would happen tonight, and I didn’t want to fuck things up more than I already had.

  But I hesitated, and she noticed. And then she laughed and reached across the table to cover my hand with hers. “Don’t worry about it, Mazi. I feel the same way. It’s scary, no?”

  “And a bit archaic,” I agreed, chuckling with relief.

  “Yes,” her answer came, quiet and thoughtful, an almost intelligible whisper. Her voice was stronger when she added with resolve, “But I will do it, for my country.”

  “I feel the same.”

  Her laugh was soft and melodic, instantly putting me at ease as she smiled. “And I like you, Mazi. I think you will make a fine king, and an even finer husband.”

  I stroked her hand gently with my thumb, and smiled at her. My heart was pained, but full at the same time. “I like you too, and I promise to do my best.”

  “It’s all either of us can ask. I would be proud to stand beside you as your wife as we lead the kingdom of Osei into the future.”

  I quickly glanced at my watch. Eleven fifty-five. So this was happening then. She caught my movement and nodded. “It’s time to go inside.”

  ***

  After all the pomp and circumstance and “hear ye, hear ye’s” had been shouted, my father took his place at a podium at the front of the room.

  “This will be that last time that I shall address you as your king.” The gasps of sadness were quiet but audible as they rippled through the room.

  “As you know, my son Mazi has been preparing to take his rightful place on the throne in my absence. Mazi is prepared, and I believe he will do a good job, but what is a king without his queen?”

  I watched as the crowd nodded their assent, waiting for the official announcement. Zahra stood near me, but not beside me, ready to take her place when the time came.

  I couldn’t help it—I had one eye on my father, and one eye on the door.

  “Tonight my son Mazi has been blessed to betroth himself to a fine young woman, and you are all here to witness their offic
ial engagement that is about to take place. Mazi, come join me please.”

  I did as I was asked. My heart thundered in my ears. Maybe it was the applause. I wasn’t sure.

  “Tonight, it is my great pleasure, and my final duty as King, to introduce you to my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

  He saw the door open before I did. He rushed to finish speaking, and to make his introduction before I could back out, but I was already across the room.

  Norah’s floor-length gown matched her eyes and the streaks of violet in her hair, and she was right. She didn’t look like a princess. She looked better.

  My heart was in my throat as I watched her, my eyes full of unspoken questions. Her slight nod was all I needed.

  I grabbed her hand and rushed back to the stage, all but dragging her behind me, and grabbed the microphone out of my father’s hand.

  “My first duty as king, or almost-king, as the case may be, will be to dispose of the archaic tradition of arranged marriage. From now on, any future king shall marry when he wants, and who he wants, and he shall marry for love.” The crowd gasped. I didn’t dare peek at my father as I continued. “Starting right now.”

  As I sank to one knee on the floor in front of Norah, I caught Zahra’s eye across the room and sent her a look full of apology. When she smiled, and nodded, I dug in my pocket for the ring.

  “You’ve told me time and time again that you weren’t cut out to be a princess, much less a queen. All I am asking for is the chance to prove you wrong. Since the moment you came into my life, everything has changed. And I do mean everything. I know I can be a better man than I ever thought possible, and I know I can be a decent king. And I know, Norah, that these things are true because of you, and that while I can do them without you, I will do them so much better with you standing by my side.”

  She still appeared to be a little shell-shocked, so I continued. “This has been a whirlwind of a ride. We have both grown together, so much in a short period of time. We have done things we never dreamed possible, and conquered this new place together, though we came here for our separate reasons. These past few months have been all about new adventures and stretching ourselves beyond what we ever imagined we could be. What do you say we throw caution to the wind one more time? Marry me, Norah. Please say yes.”

  Her yes came out in a breathy whisper meant for my ears only, but the expression on my face must have said it all because the room erupted in raucous and triumphant cheers.

  I slid the ring on her finger and let her help me to my feet, allowing myself to be pulled in for a kiss. Our first public kiss.

  When we finally pulled apart, I took her hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor.

  “Tradition dictates that after a couple becomes betrothed, they share a first dance,” I informed her, though I was sure she already knew.

  “So, Miss Norah, may I please have this dance?” Using her hand, I pulled her in close, grasping her waist with one hand and her hand with my other.

  She beamed with mischief as she answered. “But of course. After all, I hear they call you the Dancing King.”

  ~The End~

  About Rayanna James

  Rayanna is a coffee drinking, wine loving, sushi obsessed, knee sock fanatic who works her passions into every story she writes. She resides in Southern Utah with her husband, 2 kids, mother, grandfather, 2 dogs, and a lizard named Leo.

  In her spare time, she enjoys celebrating life with good food, good drinks, and good friends.

  To follow her on Facebook, click here.

  To sign up for her newsletter, click here.

  She also writes kinky romance under the pen name Rayanna Jamison.

  Decadence by Jennifer Bene

  This is a story all about being brave enough to stand up for who you truly are, and I’m so glad I got to write Finn & Aubrey’s story down. Special thanks to Saskia for making sure my Norwegian was accurate. Tusen takk, Eli!

  Chapter One

  “Finally.” Finn yanked open the door to the pristine office building, ripping off his sunglasses as his eyes slowly adjusted from the bright Los Angeles sun. With sweat trickling down his spine, he was uncomfortably aware that the lightweight cotton of his shirt was starting to stick to him under his blazer. All thanks to the two-block walk from the only parking space he’d been able to locate for his Audi R8—and with the way his luck had been lately, it would probably get side-swiped while he was handling this shit.

  At least this place is air conditioned.

  As if recognizing the opportunity to irritate him even further, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and it didn’t even take a glance for him to know who was calling. Again.

  “What do you want now?” he asked with a growl, wandering towards the names listed on the wall.

  “Finn, please tell me you’re at Dr. Connor’s office.”

  “I’m here, dick.” Scanning the list, he saw the woman’s name and traced to the right to see the suite number—212A. Second floor.

  A heavy sigh graced his ear as he moved towards the open-air staircase and began walking up. “You better be there. I promised your father you’d see someone about your issues and—”

  “My issues?” Finn couldn’t hold back the derisive laugh as he turned the first landing and climbed the next half of the flight.

  “Your father has made it exceedingly clear that you either clean up your act, get some professional guidance, or—”

  “Listen, dick, I’m in the fucking building. You should call my father and tell him he needs to start calling you Jesus because you’re performing fucking miracles.”

  “Finn, if you’re lying to me…” The empty threat in Richard Hall’s voice just had a smile creeping over his lips, because they both knew that the man had no real power over him. No one had any control of him, and that’s exactly how Finn liked it—and as long as he stayed five thousand miles from home that was exactly how it was going to stay.

  Spending one hour a week in this place so that he could maintain his freedom would be worth it.

  Probably.

  Pulling the phone from his ear, Finn swiped to his text messages and sent his location to Richard’s mobile number. The dull ping on the other end of the line confirmed it had gone through. “Well, am I lying, dick?”

  “Fine, so you are at Dr. Connor’s office.” The man huffed. “Your appointment is in six minutes, don’t be late, and for the last time my name is Richard.”

  “Right, Dick, I remember.” Wandering the halls with a casual swagger, he traced the numbers on the frosted glass doors, in no hurry to arrive at this bullshit appointment. The inside of the building was as clean and sterile as the outside. Tastefully decorated walls the color of milk, recessed lighting that made the ceiling glow without feeling clinical, all coupled with the smooth, dark wood floors—it made the entire place almost resemble a spa. Except there was no hot female masseuse waiting for him in this fucking place, and definitely no happy ending.

  “I’m going to call and make sure you attend your appointment.”

  “Hey, Dick?” Finn stopped outside the door marked in silver letters with a discreet 212.

  “What?”

  “You need to get laid.” Pressing the end button on the phone, he hung up before Richard could start some tirade. Even standing in front of the door, Finn found it was even more difficult to actually reach for the handle to go inside. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t deserve to be here.

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

  Or his life.

  Everything had been going perfectly, and then that bitch had taken pictures and posted them online. That wouldn’t have been such a fucking nightmare—after all, he’d looked damn good in every one of them—but then somehow his father had found out about it. His father’s lawyers were involved, they pulled in the American office, and now Richard Hall was up Finn’s ass and determined to turn him into some model citizen.

  Not going to happen, asshole.

>   Pushing one hand through his sandy blond hair, he stepped into the office, which actually turned out to be a small anteroom before the real waiting room. A narrow receptionist window was closed to his right, and leaned against it was a laminated sign: Please take a seat, we will be with you in a moment.

  Laughing to himself, Finn walked forward and tugged at the next door—except it didn’t move. Locked? Of course, it was. This kind of security and discretion was exactly what his father would demand. He could see into the plush waiting room on the other side of the glass, and the wide, charcoal colored armchairs looked a lot more appealing than the stiff wooden ones in this tiny room. Even more appealing were the long legs capped in shiny black heels that caught his gaze as the woman shifted in her seat, crossing one over the other before resting a magazine back on her thighs.

  Finn’s gaze moved up slowly, the small black skirt, the floral print of the top that dipped just low enough to provide a peek of cleavage. His cock twitched as her long brown waves slid over her shoulder, and she reached up to tug at her bottom lip. The woman was lost in thought, staring down at the pages in her lap, but Finn’s thoughts were steadily filling with visions of her bent into all different kinds of positions.

  The sound of the window sliding open behind him pulled his attention back, and he slapped on his most charming smile as the dark skinned woman behind the counter froze in place. It took her a moment to recover, something he was more than used to, but then she stumbled into speaking. “Um, he- hello, are you here? I mean, are you here for an appointment?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “Of course,” she laughed at herself as she sat down in the chair and woke up her computer. “For Dr. Kirkland or Dr. Connor?”

  He was about to answer when movement in the waiting room caught his eye once more, the brunette was standing, shaking the hand of an older woman who gestured into an office. The sway of the skirt on her hips as she disappeared behind the door turned Finn’s grin positively lascivious.

 

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