Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Feisty Princess (A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale: Part Two) Chapter One




I’m fucked.
Royally.
She tempted me—screwed with my head—and gained the upper hand.
She’s the enemy.
I can’t forget that.
My weakness jeopardized my company.
The Feisty Princess of Manhattan will not win this war.
No matter how fantastic her lips felt around my cock.

**Book Two in a Three Part Erotic Romance Series**

Super Naughty New Series from NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author Michelle A. Valentine (Rock the Heart, Phenomenal X, Demon at My Door).
Part One: Naughty King
Part Two: Feisty Princess
Part Three: Dirty Royals (Coming Soon)


 Copyright © 2015 by Michelle A. Valentine Books, LLC


I stare at the wedding photo in absolute horror. “Oh, my God. Yamada was a witness? And is he wearing—” I lean in and take a closer look “—an Elvis costume?”
Alexander leans over my shoulder while I sit at the island in the kitchen of our suite, his spicy scent wafting around me as he gets a better view. “Shit.” He pushes himself back upright and straightens the dark blue tie he’s wearing. Even in a dress shirt, the man makes my mouth water.
I gaze up to see a pair of gray eyes trained on me. “Please tell me this is all a sick joke. Please tell me that we aren’t really married.”
“No joke, Dime Piece,” Yamada says as he walks into the common area of the suite with a set of brunette twins wearing matching schoolgirl outfits—one under each arm. “Yamada was there, and it was the dopest wedding ever! Wasn’t it, ladies?”
The two women giggle and nod in agreement. One even runs her finger suggestively over Yamada’s scrawny bare chest beneath the silk robe he’s still wearing. “Whatever you say, baby,” the woman purrs.
Yamada grabs the woman’s hand. “No touching in front of Dime Piece. Might make her jealous. Poor girl will never get a taste of a night with Yamada since she’s married to King now.”
The woman jerks her gaze to me, and I swear to God she hisses at me. I raise my eyebrows, and Alexander shakes his head.
“We need to talk about what happened last night, Yamada,” Alexander tells him and then adds, “Alone.”
“Okay,” Yamada says and then gives each of his companions a kiss on the cheek. “Time to go, lovelies.”
“But we want to play with Yamada some more,” one of the girls whines in a voice that mimics a toddler as Yamada turns them both toward the door. 
He opens the door and ushers the girls out, patting each one on the butt as they pass him. “Sorry, but Yamada’s a man in demand. Bye girls.”
“Yamada . . .” the girls’ voice cuts off as he shuts the door in their faces.
He turns and gives us a mischievous grin. “Bitches love Yamada.”
Alexander rolls his eyes. “I have no idea why.”
“Don’t be a hater.” Yamada struts into the kitchen and opens the door on the stocked refrigerator, reaching in for a bottle of juice. He twists the cap off his apple juice and then halts when he turns to take in the expression on Alexander’s face. “Why are you not the happiest madafaka on the planet right now? You’re married to the hottest chick Yamada has ever seen. What’s there not to be happy about?”
Alexander folds his arms over his chest. “This isn’t funny. What the hell happened last night?”
Yamada swallows and then shrugs. “We were all having fun. The two of you were fucked-up and when we passed a wedding chapel . . .”
“And let me guess. You convinced us in our drunken state that it would be so much fun,” Alexander finishes for him.
Yamada’s face pulls into a lopsided grin. “You didn’t take much convincing.”
Before Alexander has a chance to respond, the front door pops open and the same bodyguard with the braids who walked me up to Yamada’s party last night sticks his head through the door. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Yamada, but we have a situation. The women you escorted out are sitting in front of the elevator demanding to speak with you about when they can see you again. Would you like us to physically remove them from the property, sir?”
“Let me talk to them.” Yamada shakes his head, muttering as he heads toward the door. “This happens every time.”
“Yamada . . .”Alexander calls after his friend but gets no response as the door closes us alone in the suite.
 Alexander turns around and rests his back against the counter in the kitchen area of our suite. The material of his pressed shirt strains against his bicep as he lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose while he squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t believe I allowed you to con me into this. How could I be so careless?”
This causes me to jerk my eyebrows up as my eyes widen. “Me? You actually think I want to be married to you?”
His eyes snap open. He holds up his left hand that’s still bearing a wedding ring and points to it. “Obviously, you do. You don’t honestly expect me to believe that Yamada came up with that shit by himself. He had to get the idea from somewhere.”
“Excuse me.” I lift my hand to interrupt. This man is completely out of his ever-lovin’ mind if he believes that. “Being married to you is the last thing on my wish list. Why would I ever subject myself to something like that?”
Alexander releases a bitter laugh. “Right. I know you’re smarter than that, Margo, so cut the act.”
My mouth falls open. “What act? My thorough disgust at the thought of being your wife isn’t for show—that I can assure you. My disdain for you is quite real.”
He stares at me through narrowed eyes. “I’m sure you’d like me to believe that, but Princess, I’m on to your game. Once Jack figures out if we’re legally married, I’ll have him slap you with an annulment so fast it’ll make your head spin. When I told you to marry some schmuck for money, I didn’t mean me!”
The moment those words leave his mouth, things begin clicking into place. My hungover brain obviously isn’t quick enough this morning to figure out that if, in fact, we are married, it means there was no time for any pesky contracts like a prenuptial agreement. Alexander King is screwed, and he knows it. He’s now at my mercy.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Since he paints me to be the evil mastermind of this plot, I might as well go along with it.
I lick my lips and peer into the beautiful eyes of the man I love to hate. “I must say, Alexander, this new development changes things drastically between us. Don’t you think?”
“This changes nothing,” he growls. “This marriage is a mistake. No judge in the world will award you shit if you press the issue. Besides, we don’t even know if the marriage is legal.” He snatches the picture of the so-called wedding off the table and panic rolls through his voice. “A minister wearing a fucking Kiss costume can’t be a legitimate man of the cloth capable of marrying people legally, right?”
While I have to agree with him on that, there’s no way I’m about to let Alexander know that I’m having a hard time believing this whole thing is legit.
“Maybe you’re right . . .” I tilt my head. “And maybe you’re wrong. Are you willing to take a chance and find out? If our marriage is legally binding, I won’t let you off easy.”
There’s a long pause of silence between us, and I can tell the wheels are spinning inside that brain of his, He’s trying to figure a way out of this situation.
“What will it take for you to walk away from this quietly?” Alexander’s nostrils flare, and I can’t help smiling. Pissing him off is my new favorite pastime.
I turn on the bar stool that I’m occupying and cross my legs in the direction that Alexander is standing. It’s finally nice to feel like the one in control of this situation. For a while there, I felt like trying to save Buchanan Industries was a lost cause, but now things have definitely changed in my favor.
“You know exactly what I want,” I tell him.
He raises his eyebrow. “Forget it. I have too much riding on this Buchanan deal. I’ll take my chances with Jack eating you alive in court.”
 “Suit yourself. Everything that went on here this weekend will prove that you were a willing participant. Besides, your college buddy was your best man. Yamada wouldn’t let someone coerce you into something that you weren’t willing to do. I’m sure it won’t be too hard to convince a judge to see things my way.”  I shrug and then push myself off the bar stool. “I think I’ll go ahead and start with a call to our family attorney. I’ll have to start planning how I want to spend my new-found fortune of half your money.”
“I don’t know what planet you’re living on, Margo, but that isn’t going to happen.” His gray eyes harden. “You can’t afford to take me on.”
“What’s yours is mine, darling. So it seems to me like I can, thanks to your sprawling wealth.”
His nostrils flare. “You are such a bitch. I can’t believe for one moment that I—” He quickly cuts himself off and clenches his hands into fists by his sides. “Pack your shit. We’re going back to New York. Now.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Alexander smirks. “Being your husband earns me that right. Now pack.”
I open my mouth to tell him to take his orders and shove them right up his bossy ass, but before I have a chance, he turns and walks toward his room, slamming the door behind him.
The second I’m sure that I’m alone, I drop my head and rub my forehead to try to soothe the pounding headache that’s still raging inside. How the hell could I allow myself to get this out of control last night? I have so much riding on saving the family business. Being married to Alexander might fuck everything up.


READ THE REST HERE:
 Feisty Princess (A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale: Part Two):