Текст книги "Feisty Princess"

About the Author

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)

Feisty Princess

Published By: Michelle A. Valentine Books, LLC

Copyright © 2015 by Michelle A. Valentine Books, LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Cover Art by:

Romantic Book Affairs Designs

(stock photos purchased)

www.rbadesigns.blogspot.com

Edited by:

Editing for Indies

www.editing4indies.com

Interior Design and Formatting by:

Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

www.perfectlypublishable.com

All Rights Reserved. This edition is copyrighted by Michelle A Valentine Books, LLC. No reproduction or utilization of this edition without written permission of the publisher. October, 2015.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

For questions or comments about this book, please contact the author at [email protected]

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Disclaimer: This book is intended for adult audiences due to strong language and naughty sexual situations.

The Black Falcon Series

ROCK THE BEGINNING

ROCK THE HEART

ROCK THE BAND

ROCK MY BED

ROCK MY WORLD

ROCK THE BEAT

ROCK MY BODY

Hard Knocks Series

PHENOMENAL X

COMING SOON–XAVIER COLD

The Collectors Series

DEMON AT MY DOOR

COMING SOON—DEMON IN MY BED

A Sexy Manhattan Fairytale

NAUGHTY KING

FIESTY PRINCESS

COMING SOON—DIRTY ROYALS

Wicked White Series

WICKED WHITE

WICKED REUNION (Releases December 15th)

Margo

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? Mythorough 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 barstool 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 barstool. “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 newfound 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.

Alexander

THE ROAR OF THE JET has been the only sound I’ve heard for the last hour. Margo hasn’t said a word to me since we left Las Vegas. Hell, she hasn’t even so much as glanced at me either. Whatever little connection we shared this weekend is now long gone. Reality has definitely set in that we are enemies and nothing more.

I allowed myself to forget that this weekend. I gave in to temptation and had her over and over.

It had been a long time since I’d laughed—let loose and just had a good time. The combination of liquor and Yamada tends to put me in a carefree state, but I never let my guard down around women. Margo Buchanan is irresistible, and I’m not exactly in the habit of telling myself no, which is how I landed myself in this situation. I couldn’t get enough of her.

“Another scotch, Mr. King?” Abigail asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, but make it a double this time,” I instruct her before she scampers off to fulfill my order.

I lay my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, only to be instantly alerted to a ringing phone. I answer on the second ring. “King.”

“Madafaka! You left without telling Yamada good-bye?”

I roll my eyes. I knew he’d be pissed at me for taking off like that, but I couldn’t spend one more minute in the penthouse cooped up with Margo’s tempting ass. That woman and her sexy as sin body drives me out of my mind and causes me to lose all control, so I knew I had to get out of there before I did something foolish. I will not break down and give in to her demands, no matter how hard my dick gets.

But Yamada doesn’t need to know that was my reason for taking off so quickly. “I’m sorry, my friend. I had urgent business I had to attend to back in New York.”

He chuckles on the other end of the line. “You left because being alone with Margo scares the shit out of you. You forget how well Yamada knows you.”

The tie around my neck feels too tight, so I pull it away from my skin to relieve the sudden choking sensation. “I assure you, that isn’t the case.”

“Uh-huh. Then you have no problem flying out to see Yamada on his private island on Thursday.”

“A private island? When did you buy a fucking island? That’s not really your scene.”

“Everywhere Yamada chooses to be is Yamada’s scene. Besides, it was a good investment. Everyone loves the British Virgin Islands. This place has a resort on it and a full staff. There are some fly honies that work there. We’ll have a good time. No visitors on the island while Yamada’s there either.”

I rub my temple as I groan. “Now isn’t really a good time. I have to sort out this crazy Vegas wedding you got me wrapped up in.”

“Now is the perfect time,” he chimes in. “We never talked business in Vegas. If you want Yamada Enterprises in on the Buchanan deal, then we sit down before Yamada goes back to Japan. Oh, and bring Dime Piece too or no deal.”

“Yamada . . .”

“No is not an answer Yamada will respond to. You want to talk business, you come Thursday to see my new island. Yamada’s Booty Paradise has a nice ring to it, no?” A female giggle cuts over the line and Yamada chuckles and then shushes her. “Got to go, King. I’ll text you the island coordinates. See you Thursday.”

“No. Wait. Yamada—” Silence is all I’m met with, and I curse as I hang up the phone.

A few seconds later, he sends coordinates to one of the small pieces of land in the British Virgin Islands via text.

I scrub both hands down my face. I’m not blind as to what Yamada is trying to do. His matchmaking between Margo and me isn’t going to work. I’m not interested in a relationship, and Margo hates my guts, so I know she doesn’t want one with me either. Earlier today, she clearly showed her disdain about being married to me. I know she won’t appreciate Yamada’s meddling with our lives any more than I do.

I jerk my gaze over to Margo. She chose to take the seat across the aisle instead of bravely facing me as she did on the way out here. In her current seat, her head faces away from me, causing me to take note of her striking profile. Her dark hair is pulled back in a low-set ponytail and those dark-rimmed glasses that she tends to wear around the office covers her eyes. Even when she doesn’t seem to be trying to attract my attention, she always manages to capture it. She’s really one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen.

Too bad she’s also one of the biggest bitches on the planet.

“Bad news.” She whips her head in my direction and meets my gaze. “It seems that Yamada has requested my presence at a private island this week.”

Margo clutches her chest in dramatic shock. “That sounds so horrible for you. A private island? You poor thing. How will you ever survive?”

The sarcasm isn’t missed in her voice, and it only makes me want to burst her little attitude bubble. “Trust me. It will be a complete fucking nightmare, especially since he says that I have to bring you along.”

I fully expect her to get pissed and start shouting about all the reasons that she can’t possibly accompany me to this island, but she doesn’t do that. Instead, a wicked smile crosses her face. Instantly, that irritates me off. I don’t like that she’s pleased about this one damn bit.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy about this,” I grumble.

That only causes her smile to widen. “Just means that Yamada is starting to like me too. I told you that he would be my friend.”

My nostrils flare at that thought, but I know that no matter what Margo Buchanan believes, Yamada would never take her side over mine.

“When do we leave?” she asks.

“Yamada apparently owns one of the islands next to the British Virgin Islands, so it’ll take us about six hours to fly there. Then we’ll need to get a helicopter or boat to take us over to wherever this place is. If I want to make a deal with Yamada, then we have no other choice but to go. Once Yamada gets his mind stuck on something, he tends to get his way.”

“Looks like the game is still on when it comes to Yamada,” Margo muses.

It’s time to remind her that I’m still the boss in this situation. “Don’t get your hopes up, Princess. Yamada will never sign a deal with you over me. He’s my friend.”

She lifts her eyebrow. “You’re not the only one who got an invite to chat, King, so it looks like he’s my friend, too.”

Dammit. I hate that she’s right. Yamada does like her or else he would have never been so welcoming once he figured out that he wasn’t getting into her pants. That also means this could be big trouble for me if she can figure out a way to sweet talk him in to doing a deal directly with her father instead of me. It will cost me far too much money and I won’t allow that to happen.

When we land at the airstrip just outside the city, Margo rushes off the plane. She demanded that I order a car to be waiting for her because she refused to be trapped with me any longer than she had to. She doesn’t even glance in my direction as she heads toward it.

Guess the fucking honeymoon’s over.

I shove myself up from the smooth leather seat and button my jacket as I make my way off the plane. The late afternoon sun hits me full force as I step outside, causing me to whip out a pair of sunglasses from my inside pocket and then slide them on my face.

It’s then that I notice Jack leaning against the limo with his arms crossed as he waits for me. Even though his sunglasses shield his eyes, the smirk on his face tells me that I’ve opened myself up to a never-ending line of jokes about my random Vegas nuptials. “Your wife isn’t riding with us?”

I shake my head. “Don’t start your shit.”

“What?” Jack says with a slight chuckle as I slide into the limo first with him following right behind me. “I’m not allowed to ask about your wife?”

“She’s not my wife,” I snap.

This only causes Jack to laugh harder. “Sure, she is. It’s legal and everything.”

“Fuck.” It’s the only word that comes to mind. I’m totally fucked here. “How bad is it?”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “Well, if the two of you didn’t consummate your marriage, I’m sure we could’ve had a quick annulment, but—” I pull my glasses off and give him my best you know me better than that look which cuts him off. “That’s what I thought. We fight it. I’m not exactly a divorce lawyer, but I’m sure we can bring on a few other attorneys who specialize in high-profile cases to help. We might stand a chance.”

“A chance?” There’s a catch in my voice. “You have got to be fucking kidding me! You’re telling me that after being married for one fucking day, it possible Margo Buchanan can take me to the fucking cleaners? This is fucking insane.”

“Buddy, what’s insane is you marrying a woman who’s out for your blood. What possessed you to do it? I mean, I know she’s hot, but was fucking her really worth all this trouble? What the hell were you thinking?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know.”

I wish I could blame marrying Margo solely on Yamada, but I know that wouldn’t be exactly fair. Being with Margo this weekend was exciting. She didn’t take my shit, and I find that insanely attracted. Hell, maybe Jack can plead a case of temporary insanity because the woman causes me to lose my damn mind. Yamada said it didn’t take much convincing for me to marry Margo, and in my gut, I know that’s probably true. I drank enough liquor to kill a horse, so I know the logical part of my brain was not functioing, and my dick did any major decision-making.

I lift my head and stare out the window as the car cuts through traffic, getting us closer to Manhattan. “How quickly can we get this resolved?”

“Well, that depends,” Jack replies.

“On . . .” I prod as I whip my gaze in his direction.

He sighs. “On whether or not Margo Buchanan cooperates.”

I release a bitter laugh. “She hates me, so that won’t happen.”

“That’s too bad. Dragging things out can cause problems. If the board catches wind about your fly-by-night nuptials, they may begin to question your integrity.”

“My integrity? Are you fucking serious? This little mishap with Margo has nothing to do with my ability to run King Corporation. This business means more to me than anything else.” I shake my head, reeling from the disbelief that Jack’s even bringing this up. “I would rather slice off my own hand than do something to damage the empire my father built.”

“I know that, but the board . . . they don’t know you like I do, and well, you’ve amassed quite a reputation in this city when it comes to women. The board may perceive your rash decision to marry Margo and then immediately divorce her as you being a bit . . . flighty.”

I raise one eyebrow. “Me . . . flighty? I’m an emanate professional. Why does who I fuck and accidentally marry bring my character into question?”

Jack shrugs. “It could cause them to question your decision-making skills—your ability to see what’s best for the company in the long haul—and they may band together to try to go against you on things.”

“That won’t matter. I own a majority of this company. If they don’t like the direction I take this business—tough. It’s my fucking company.”

“It is,” Jack agrees. “I’m not bringing this up to be a prick, but I just want you to be aware. The board can make things a whole lot more difficult if they fight you on every little thing.”

I run my fingers down the back of my neck and take a deep breath. Fuck. If only I could rewind time and go back to the first moment I fucked Margo and let my guard down, then none of this would be an issue right now. I screwed up, and now I have to deal with the consequences of giving in to my dark desires and taking Margo, even though I knew it could fuck everything up.

I meet Jack’s stare. “So what should I do? If Margo refuses a quick annulment, there’s no way I can keep this quiet and keep the word from spreading across this city. You know how people talk around here.”

“Play nice with her,” Jack says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Find out what it will take to appease her and give it to her so she doesn’t fight you on this divorce.”

“I can’t do that!” I protest. “She wants me to bail out Buchanan Industries so her family’s company won’t go under, but you and I both know that if we do that, we’d lose millions on that deal. We can’t afford to do that.”

“Then you’ll have to find a way to meet in the middle. You both are going to have to give a little to find common ground in this situation.”

I scrub my hand down my face. This is horse shit. I hate the fact that she basically has my balls in her purse, ready to zip them in tight and cause me excruciating pain. I so badly want to bash my fucking head against the window as straight-up punishment for allowing shit to get out of control like this.

This—the whole allowing someone to gain the upper hand on me, especially a female—is not like me. I’m typically in control.

My cell rings and I fish it out of my jacket pocket before checking the caller ID. I sigh as I hit the green button, ready for the whine fest that I know my baby sister is about to inflict on me for missing her birthday party this weekend. “Yes, Diem?”

“Are you back in town yet?” she quizzes.

“Just landed about ten minutes ago,” I tell her. I decide then that I might as well open the door for her temper tantrum for being absent this weekend. “How was your birthday party?”

“It was wonderful,” she replies in a tone I only remember her using after watching some sappy romance movie. Most people would call it dreamy. I call it delusional. Diem is very much the hopeless romantic type, so this mood of hers tells me that she’s met a guy.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. What shitty timing for this to happen. With me being so wrapped up in the whole Margo scandal and trying to close this deal with Yamada, I won’t have time to properly investigate whoever this man is like I typically do. As her brother, I find that it’s my duty to make sure whatever asshole is sniffing around my sister is good enough. Unfortunately, Diem tends to pick the loser artist types who I fear are after far more than her model good looks. Like me, people try to get their hooks in Diem for what our father left us, and it’s up to me to protect my free-spirited, trusting sister from motherfuckers who would use her.

Time to cut to the chase.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Does a man have to be involved for me to be happy?” Diem instantly fires back.

“Come on, Diem. You can’t bullshit me. You know the drill. Who’s the guy?”

She’s quiet for a few moments and then says, “I’m not telling you.”

“Diem . . .” I say her name with a bite of warning in my voice. “You might as well do this the easy way and just tell me. Don’t make me have Jack start looking into who this mystery guy is you obviously don’t want me to know about.”

Jack’s eyes immediately cut over to me at the mention of his name. I see a flicker of unease on his face before he quickly turns his head to stare out the side window. Jack hates when I send him out on personal missions like this for me—that’s no secret—so I’m sure the idea of tracking down my kid sister’s new love interest isn’t something that he really wants to do. But I know Jack. He’s loyal, and he’ll do it if I ask him to because, not only does he work for me, but he’s also my best friend.

“Don’t do that,” Diem begs. “I promise I’ll tell you all about him when I’m ready, but for now, allow me to keep this to myself. Please, Alexander.”

Her bravery to maintain this secret takes me aback because Diem isn’t typically like that with me. Sure, she bucks against my will most of the time, but it doesn’t take me long to get her to bend. She knows that I get what I want no matter what. So this little show of defiance catches me off guard, but the idea that she’s finally growing a little backbone makes me proud in an odd way. It doesn’t make me worry any less, though.

I sigh. “Fine. I won’t push for now. But so help me, Diem, if this asshole hurts you in any way, I will end him.”

“Thank you.” The pleased tone in her voice rings through loud and clear.

After I tell her good-bye, I end the call and lean my head back against the headrest. I hope Diem knows what she’s doing and doesn’t do anything rash with this guy until I’ve had time to run a full background check on him. I don’t have time to worry about my sister right now though. I have to focus all my energy on figuring out how to get out of the fucking mess I’ve gotten myself into with Margo. I can’t believe I’m married to the fucking Feisty Princess of Manhattan. How in the hell did I allow this to happen?