Royal Wrecker: Barnes Family Romances Book 4

by Alleman, Normandie

  A pussy in every port, wasn't that the way it was? He didn’t need to bust my balls just because I got caught with the wrong girl. It could happen to anyone, and most people didn't get the sentence of holy matrimony for it.

  “Look, they fucking trapped me, the lot of them. You can't expect me to be happy about this.”

  I wished Ivy were there to defend me. She was on my side, but she was in the dressing room with the other girls since she was acting as a bridesmaid for Honoré.

  Nick groaned. “I'm just saying as long as you are trapped, you might as well make the best of it. She's a lovely girl. From what I understand she's intelligent, accomplished. I mean, what's wrong with having a princess for a wife? Is she a bitch or something?”

  “I wouldn't say bitch, but dude, this is like an arranged marriage. A forced one. How can you be okay with this?”

  “Eden says that there's this show about marriage at first sight where these experts choose their spouses, and it works. She says that arranged marriages have a higher percentage of people staying together than traditional marriage where we choose for ourselves.”

  “That’s fucked up, man.”

  “No. It's like they learned to love each other or something, as opposed to being infatuated with each other and then getting sick of each other and feeling like they should look for something else.”

  “You've been watching way too much TV, or listening to your wife. Maybe she’s the one who’s been watching too much TV. It's like slavery, what these people are doing to me.”

  This cracked Nick up. He started laughing so hard I thought he was gonna fall out of his chair, but before I could smack him, the door opened, and Eduardo came in.

  “Hey, what's so funny?” Eduardo asked Nick.

  “Leo. He thinks marriage is like slavery.”

  Eduardo smiled. “There is that thing about the ball and chain, but, Leo, it's not that bad to have someone be your partner in life. Chloe and I are very happy. I can’t imagine life without her.”

  “Good for you! But what you guys don’t seem to understand is that I don't want to marry this girl. I barely know this girl. I’m being forced to do this by Lucinda. And I can't fucking believe that you guys are going along with it.”

  “Aren't you going along with it?” Eduardo's dark eyes pierced mine.

  That was the part I didn't want to talk about, so instead of answer his question, I stuck my hands in my pockets and muttered, “Fuck that.”

  “Look, Leo, if you don't want to do this, then don't do it. It's not just your life we’re talking about here. There is a young woman who is in this with you.”

  I took a deep breath.

  Eduardo was right. I was having a bit of a meltdown, but Honoré and I had an understanding.

  I guess I didn't need to make it plain to my brothers that this wasn't a real marriage for me or my bride. We were only doing it to get out of our current situations.

  She wanted her freedom, and I wanted mine.

  Strangely, the only way we could see how to obtain that was to marry each other for a short period of time. Then, after the TV show, we would go our separate ways.

  It's only for a few months.

  I picked up Nick's glass of champagne and downed it. “Let's get this party started.”

  Just then a security team entered the room and told us it was time to go to the church.

  They escorted my brothers and I through a back hallway, down numerous staircases and out a service exit, where we were loaded into a black armored Suburban limo.

  I straightened my jacket and sat up properly in the back of the limo realizing I was about to marry a freaking princess and become part of a real and true royal family.

  In America people always joked about our family being America's answer to a royal family.

  But I think that was meant tongue in cheek.

  Our family was headed by my mother, who was as ambitious as hell. She had been married to the most famous rock star of his time, and when he died young, she used his fame and fortune to catapult her children and herself to hundreds of new businesses and a media empire that at last count had over a dozen continuing network shows. She owned everything from the Barnes Bunch reality show to fashion lines, even my sister-in-law Chloe's cooking show.

  And those stupid holiday specials.

  If there was a holiday, my mother found a way to do a special for it.

  This wedding had to be the most exciting thing to ever come her way.

  For one of her kids to marry royalty, no wonder she refused to let me wriggle out of this one.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt my mother. For most of my life, she and I had been close.

  We never had the knock-down, drag-out screaming matches that she and Nick engaged in.

  My twin sister fought with her a lot more than I did. Ivy was always so independent, had her own opinions.

  But for the most part, growing up, I went along with whatever Lucinda wanted.

  But over the last couple of years, I began to realize that the life I was living was my mother's dream, not mine.

  My father was a performer. My sister Ivy was a fabulous performer.

  Me? I just wanted to write music. It wasn't that I minded playing the music, it was just that I was an introvert.

  I would be much happier having a nice, quiet life.

  Our vehicle inched out into the street and joined the wedding party motorcade.

  I stared out the window at the crowds forming on both sides of the street, wondering how the hell I was going to deal with being even more famous.

  We passed through the city, which was filled with screaming well-wishers with signs demonstrating their support for the match between their princess and her rock star.

  I was accustomed to crowds of cheering fans, but I’d never been exposed to an entire city of them.

  Much less an entire country.

  This was the sort of pomp and circumstance reserved for royals.

  Suddenly, the significance of this union began to settle in.

  This was no joke. I at least needed to put on a good show for these people.

  It was the least they were owed.

  When we arrived at the cathedral, all of us were impressed.

  The place was freaking amazing. Not only because of its soaring gothic towers, but also because of its timeless design and intricate stonework. It was also sobering to be in a place that had been here for centuries.

  We didn’t even have buildings in the United States this old.

  “How would you like to preside over a service in this place?” Nick asked Eduardo.

  “It might almost be enough to get me to go back into organized religion.” Eduardo smiled.

  Nick might have been teasing him, but there was a reverence to the structure that couldn’t be ignored.

  As we were spirited into a side entrance and shown a small room where we were expected to wait for the big moment, the historical significance of what was about to transpire rested on my shoulders.

  It was definitely going to be a wedding to remember.

  I’d already heard that Dynassy was slightly annoyed that she and Bridger would never be able to outdo this location for their wedding, whenever that was going to be.

  I felt bad for my sister if topping this was her goal, because really, how could you top a royal wedding?

  When I pulled a flask out of my pocket and attempted to take a nip, Nick intercepted it and hid it in his inside jacket pocket. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

  He patted me on the chest. “Save it for the reception. You can let loose then.”

  I nodded. He was right, but my nerves were standing on the outside of my skin. I felt as jangly as a Halloween skeleton on the front door.

  We didn’t have long to wait until they marched me out to the center of the nave where I waited for my future bride.

  A blast of trumpets heralded the beginning of the ceremony, and a string quartet consisting of several famous
musicians began to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D—one of my all-time favorite pieces.

  As the music played, I began to settle.

  Music had always done that for me. It was the one thing in my life that I could always count on to ground me.

  The inside of the church was filled with white flowers, arrangements adorning every pew.

  Once the music began, my brothers and I took our places at the front of the church where I would await my bride.

  Surveying the sea of faces, I saw Lucinda sitting amidst her entourage, which included Eduardo’s wife Chloe, who was a big-time chef on Lucinda’s cooking network. She looked like a gazillion bucks in a fancy blue designer dress. And she was wearing a hat with random feathers hanging off the side.

  She hadn’t been wearing it earlier when she came to see me before the wedding.

  Lucinda was full of surprises.

  Nick and Eden’s twins came first.

  Barely three, they toddled down the aisle together.

  Albert carried a silk pillow with our rings tied securely to it, and Annabelle sprinkled lavender rose petals in an adorably haphazard fashion.

  Laughter along with a chorus of “awwws” from the crowd signified they were a hit.

  My sisters Ivy and Dynassy came down the aisle next wearing emerald-green dresses.

  The familiar chords of a wedding march began.

  A rustling noise grabbed my attention, and I noticed everyone in the crowd standing and trying to catch a glimpse of her.

  Even from so far away that she looked like a doll, I could tell that Honoré was the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen.

  Not that I’d paid much attention to brides over the years.

  I just knew that she made my heart stop, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

  It was hard to believe this was the same girl as the one with the pink hair who I drank Jell-o shots with only ten days ago.

  She was so graceful that she appeared to glide down the aisle rather than walk.

  Her brown hair was pulled back and adorned by a sparkly tiara, but those beautiful brown eyes of hers shone brighter than the ring her mother had given me to place on her finger.

  I hardly noticed the dress she wore, other than it was white, and she looked incredible in it.

  Captivated, I willed her to look at me, but she kept her eyes trained straight ahead.

  Damn, the girl was a professional—regal.

  When she came to stand next to me, I gulped as her father placed her hand in mine.

  Next to her I felt like an amateur, just some musician trying to pretend he had something to offer this incredible woman. In that moment, I wasn’t sure what the hell that could be.

  As freaked out as I was with Honoré standing beside me, I relaxed.

  Once we pivoted to face each other, it felt like we were the only two people in that massive church.

  My brother Eduardo acted as officiant, and we went through the motions, repeating our vows after him.

  That part was weird, because we didn’t really know each other, and we were promising all these things that sounded lofty and abstract in the context of our fledgling relationship.

  It wasn't until he asked Honoré that I started to really pay attention to what we were pledging.

  “Do you, Honoré, take Leo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

  She looked into my eyes and as serious as can be answered, “I do.”

  And suddenly my chest tightened.

  This felt way too freaking real.

  The room around me started to spin, and I took a step to the side, steadying myself.

  Eduardo looked at me with alarm and reached out to hold my arm.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  I nodded and lifted a shoulder, indicating it was nothing.

  I tried to avoid Honoré's worried look for the rest of the ceremony.

  And by the time Eduardo announced, “You may kiss the bride,” I had regained my composure.

  Deliberately, I put my arms around Honoré’s waist and pulled her into a kiss that was both proper and passionate, or at least I hoped it came off that way.

  She responded, but I assumed that was only for the audience.

  When I released her, she smiled at me, but I noted a worried glint in her eye.

  She was concerned, so I gave her my winningest smile in an attempt to reassure her.

  We were in this thing together, and we had just sailed over our first hurdle.

  I had no doubt there would be many more.

  6

  Leo

  The reception was like something out of a storybook.

  Everywhere you looked there were white fairy lights and flowers—hanging from the ceiling, draped over chairs. It was like a floral wonderland.

  It reminded me of a scene from The Nutcracker on steroids, so over the top that it made me wonder if it was my mother or the royals who were behind the extravagance.

  Then it hit me—I might have just married into a family that could outdo my mother when it came to luxury and excess. I made a note to ask Honoré about it. If that was the kind of clan they were, I probably needed a heads up.

  Honoré came out wearing another stunning white gown. This one a little shorter with a more room for her to dance, which was the first thing we did after they announced us as a couple.

  We had taken some lessons so that I would know how to do the traditional Martinovian wedding dance. It wasn't that terribly hard, but I'd been having to learn and perform stupid dance moves for as long as I could remember, so I just went with it. If it was going to make Honoré and her family happy, that was fine with me.

  In the spirit of giving it my all, I made sure to make good eye contact with my bride as we danced. She floated along in my arms. We did a little quickstep, and I twirled her around and dipped her. It was fun. At least my bride wasn't bitchy and difficult.

  The times I’d been around her, she seemed like a pretty cool person. It was kind of too bad that we had to be thrown together into this farce of a marriage.

  Hell, if things had been different, I might have dated her.

  Her pretty smile made me suspect she might have a slight crush on me.

  Then I remembered how she’d pretended to be “Hannah” the night we met, and I remembered she was a pretty good actress.

  As I took her in my arms for the next dance, a waltz, I whispered in her ear, “Having fun, Mrs. Barnes?”

  I chuckled as I said it, and she laughed softly as well.

  “A wonderful time, husband. And you?”

  “Smashing good time,” I said, for a moment regretting that this was a business arrangement.

  My first wedding and I wasn't even going to get to enjoy the sexy little body of my bride on my wedding night.

  What a fucking waste, I thought as the song ended, and I scanned the room for a tray of champagne.

  Later, we welcomed friends and survived the toasts.

  Several of my celebrity friends showed up, and I met a lot of Martinovian society.

  As we sat and ate our food at the wedding table, I introduced Honoré to Uncle Mick.

  Ivy sang I’m Yours, which Honoré requested, insisting it was her favorite song.

  We waved at Victoria and Dave across the room. Apparently, she already knew Taylor, and Ed arrived sporting yet another cast.

  “Hey, bro, how the hell did you get this one before I had a chance?” he asked.

  I laughed. “You snooze you lose, man.”

  Honoré was turning a shade of pink that I had never seen before. Did she have a crush on him? A tinge of jealousy rose inside me, and I slipped my arm around her waist possessively. “I guess you should've done more concerts in Martinovia. But I saw her first,” I gloated.

  “Well, I'll text you my number in case it doesn't work out,” Ed teased.
/>   Honoré giggled.

  I thought he was kidding, but I gave him a playful punch in the arm just in case.

  He grimaced, so I thought he got the message.

  I yawned. Damn, I’d eaten too much.

  My bandmates Will and DeMarcus were in attendance, and I gathered by the way I never saw Honoré’s friend Jennifer anywhere near Will that things hadn’t worked out between them. Funny, how that night turned into all this.

  As stuffed as I was, we got roped into a round of doing the Macarena, which apparently everyone in Martinovia did at weddings the way Americans did the chicken dance.

  It had been a really long day, and I could tell Honoré was getting tired as well.

  Who knew getting hitched took so much out of a person?

  I spoke to a few of the security guys, and soon we were shown into a long, black limousine and whisked back to a room at the castle.

  On the ride over, Honoré gently lay her head on my shoulder, and before I knew it she was making the cutest little snoring noise.

  I smiled down at her. She might be my fake wife, but there was something about having just shared a wedding with the girl that made me feel closer to her.

  When we got to the castle, I woke Honoré, helped her out of the car and to our suite.

  She looked a little embarrassed for falling asleep, and her hair was slightly disheveled, which made me think it might be nice to really mess up her hair.

  “Want to have a nightcap?”

  My question was met with a tilt of her head that I interpreted to mean “not really.”

  “Maybe just a small one. After all, you only get married for the first time once.”

  I probably shouldn't have said that. She probably didn't like the idea that she was going to be married more than once. Girls were romantic like that. But she didn’t respond.

  Perhaps she didn’t hear me.

  “How about a sip of champagne?”

  She nodded, stifling a little yawn.

  “Okay, how do I get to the kitchen or the bar or whatever?”

  She gave me a detailed list of directions, and I only got lost a couple times.

  Fortunately, there were people milling around all the different corridors. They all knew who I was, so they were very helpful.