ROYAL BRIDE (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)

  Contents

  TITLE

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  ISABELLA

  ANTONIO

  EPILOGUE

  BONUS NOVEL #1

  BONUS NOVEL - HEAL ME

  BONUS NOVEL #2

  BONUS NOVEL: BAD BOY MONEY

  CONNECT

  ROYAL BRIDE

  (A Billionaire BAD BOY Romance)

  If you love a sexy, demanding, and domineering hot prince, then this book is for you!

  By

  Bella Grant

  Copyright (c) 2016. All Rights Reserved

  ISABELLA

  Over three thousand guests waited downstairs in the ballroom for the bride to arrive. A few hundred of those guests were mentally waging bets that she wouldn’t show at all.

  Princess Isabella paced her suite, dressed in the traditional gown of gold and purple with jewels encrusting the thick edges of the gown’s hem. The bodice fit tightly, pushing her bosom higher than her fiancé would find appropriate—which was perfectly fine with her.

  The door flung open and in waltzed her father and brother. “What is keeping you up here?” Her father’s boisterous voice boomed against the walls of the suite. His face was flushed, and his cheeks puffed out in what could only be described as inconvenienced irritation.

  “I can’t do it. I can’t marry that man. I don’t love him.” She pleaded with her father once more, wringing her hands with so much vigor that she feared she’d bruise herself. He would have to listen to reason. She’d never failed to get her way with him before.

  “Did I ever promise you love from your husband? No. I promised you’d have a good match, and Prince Antonio is as good a match as any. He is by far the richest prince among our cluster of islands—second only to your brother, of course.”

  Raphael looked bored, almost annoyed at having to be in the room with them. He fidgeted as though he wanted to be somewhere else.

  “Rafe… Please. Tell him I can’t marry Antonio.” Her big brother would have come to her rescue in the past, though considering that he thought she was spoiled, she was more doubtful than usual of his assistance.

  “Bella, you knew you’d have to marry eventually. Antonio is a good man. Honest and just. You will find that no harm comes to you under his protection.” Her brother didn’t move to comfort her as he used to when they were children. He looked at her expectantly. Except she hadn’t agreed to this duty. She wanted to wait, to find someone more suitable than Antonio.

  He was handsome, that wasn’t an issue. In fact, the man was more attractive than any royal prince had the right to be, but it didn’t matter. He was firm in his resolutions. He would expect her to toe the line and play the royal princess role with perfection. She wasn’t ready to give up her freedom. She was only twenty-four—she had time to live before she was saddled with a husband!

  “You are no help!” She turned on her heel and began to pace again.

  “Isabella, I have spoiled you beyond tolerance. I see that now. Raphael pointed it out many times, but I let it go each time. You will obey me this time. You will marry Prince Antonio, and you will not utter one more word of protest!” Her father’s face reddened as he attempted to control his temper.

  Isabella balled her hands into fists and readied to launch into a tirade of her own, but the king was gone before she could utter one syllable. The door vibrated as it was slammed behind him. Her brother remained, though his expression softened into one of understanding.

  Out of pure frustration, she stomped her foot. “Why won’t he listen?” She could feel tears building in her eyes but refused to let them fall.

  Raphael crossed the small distance between them and pulled her into his arms. She took a steadying breath, relaxing against her big brother’s chest. “Bella, it will work out. You will see. Antonio is a firm man, and he won’t let you get away with your childish behavior, but he will come to love you as much as I do… perhaps even more. There are so many worse men father could have chosen for you.”

  She grunted. “That much is true.”

  “You’ll see, within a month or two, you’ll be happy as ever.” His large hand patted her back, and he released her.

  “And if I’m not? If Antonio chooses to keep a small harem of women like Father did to Mother?”

  Raphael winced at the memory of his father’s careless indiscretions. “I didn’t think you remembered that. You were so young when Mother died.”

  “I remember the way she paled when one of his mistresses would pass us in the hall, or when he allowed one of them to dine with the family at a party.” Her father never hid the fact that he sought the comfort of women other than this wife. As king, he decreed it his right, no matter how much it hurt his wife or his children.

  “Antonio isn’t like Father. I don’t think he will treat you the same way.”

  “Maybe it would be better if he did take a mistress. Then I could live in the country, or move back home. Be his wife in name only.” Hope began to build inside of her. Yes. That was the perfect plan. He would have his princess, his queen, but she would remain her own person and not have to follow his rules or those of the royal family. She could continue to enjoy her days and evenings with her friends, doing what she wanted to do.

  “Bella, I know that look.” Rafe laughed. “That’s not going to work.”

  “Can you think of a better way for me to get out of this mess you’ve put me in?” She narrowed her eyes at him. If he had married Carmen, Antonio’s sister, as was the original plan, she wouldn’t be standing in a wedding gown hundreds of miles from her home.

  “I put you in this mess?” He placed a hand over his chest, giving her a wounded look.

  “Yes. If you had married his damn sister before scaring her off, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “If I remember correctly, and I’m sure I do, you got yourself into this because you decided to have a fit with Antonio and ended up bare-assed over his lap. That, little sister, was your doing. And since he is a man of honor, he did what any self-respecting man would do after defiling a young princess. He asked for your hand.”

  Isabella’s cheeks heated at the recollection of how she had ended up engaged to the prince. Her temper had gotten the better of her, and he had taken liberties with her body which, at the time, were quite pleasurable. But she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with him.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She waved him off. “Go. I’ll be down directly. Send in those women from the hallway.” She walked over to the vanity and checked her hair and makeup.

  Raphael left the room, shaking his head as he let the swarm of attendants into the room to help finish getting Isabella ready for her nuptials.

  She would make it work. Everyone told her the prince was a reasonable man. Surely he’d see her side.

  ANTONIO

  His bride was completely addle-brained. He had heard about her stubborn streak before meeting her and experienced her hot temper firsthand once he met her, but no one had mentioned that she could not comprehend reason.

  “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s a very sound plan.” Her dark blue eyes widened when he remained silent. He mentally counted to ten an
d decided to do it again before he responded to her request.

  The wedding had gone as planned after a delayed start. Guests were entertained by the music, and the royal families were satisfied that the union would bring a new alliance between them. His new wife had tried relentlessly to avoid him after the ceremony. More than once, he had sought her out and pulled her back to his side. He would have been annoyed by her rebellion, except it was her rebellious side that was attractive. She wasn’t afraid to think for herself and do as she felt, unlike most royal women he’d met. Most of them smiled and nodded when they were supposed to, but having a true conversation felt more like information extraction with the Royal Guard.

  Isabella would be different. Difficult, but different. She said what she thought and meant what she said. Most of the time. She could be childish in temper at times, but he would cure that quickly. She would see that his ways were the best ways, and she’d curb that temper of hers.

  “Antonio.” Her hard voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.

  “I couldn’t have heard you correctly. Can you please repeat yourself?” He forced a grin as he leaned toward her in the bedroom of their suite. She sat on the settee, and he on the couch. She hadn’t even removed her wedding dress yet. When he offered to help her out of her clothing and into his bed, she had moved to the sitting area, claiming the need for an open discussion first. Not one to force a woman, and wanting her full attention when he finally did get his hands on her, he gave her what she wanted.

  “I said I have a wonderful idea how to make our marriage work for us both. You don’t really need a wife clinging to you at all times. Rafe told me how active you still are in the military and that you are often gone away on missions—”

  “Not missions. I don’t go on missions. I work with activist groups that bring awareness to some of the troubles we face on the islands.”

  “Oh. I thought he said you were a military man.”

  “I was in the Royal Guard, yes. But I am no longer on active duty in that respect.”

  She twisted her lips to the side, thinking over his words, then shrugged. “Still, you travel often, and you don’t need a wife attached to your hip everywhere you go. So, I think it would be best for both of us if I remained behind—either at my father’s estates, or perhaps I could set up a home for us in the city. When you’re home, you can visit me there.”

  “Visit you there?” He tried to count to ten again, but his resolve to keep his temper in check diminished the more she spoke.

  Isabella was beautiful, he would never deny that. He’d gotten a full view of her body when he visited her at her father’s estates only a month before. If her bikinis could have gotten any smaller, she would have been completely naked. But as sexy as she looked in them, he wanted her more when she changed into something more appropriate. Now she sat across from him, wrapped up in a traditional gown with an altered neckline. His physical need to touch her was being replaced by the urge to throttle her instead.

  “Yes, when you are in town.” She began to pluck the pins that held up the curls of her hair and deposited them on the table between them.

  “Isabella.” He closed his eyes and reminded himself that she was several years younger than him and, up until a month ago, had most likely never entertained the idea of being someone’s wife. Instead of beckoning her to him, like he usually would, he went to her. Stepping over the table, he sat down on it and took her hands in his. The soft skin of her hands spoke of the easy life she’d led. “You are my wife, and that means you’ll go and live where I say you’ll live. And never will I tuck you away in some villa in the city while I travel. Never will I leave you behind while I’m away.”

  “That’s very honorable of you, Antonio.” He could hear the forced civility in her tone and wondered how close to an outburst she was teetering. “But I’m telling you that it would work to both of our advantages.”

  He leaned closer, inhaling the fresh scent of her perfume. The red of her lipstick had worn mostly off, leaving only a trace of its bold color behind. “I will never stray from my vows, Isabella. I will never take another woman to my bed so long as you are my wife. I meant every word that I spoke this afternoon.” Her skin felt soft beneath his hand as he cupped her chin, raising it until her eyes met his. “You are married now, Isabella. Best to accept it.”

  Only an unseen veil of air separated their lips as he moved closer to her. Her delicate pink tongue poked out of her mouth, running along her lip, showing him how much she anticipated his kiss. She could use words to hide behind, but her body, her mannerisms, told him the truth about her desires and needs. When he finally lowered his mouth over hers, she moaned softly. His tongue brushed against hers, sending a current of electricity through his body. His cock, already firmly aware of its proximity to her body, hardened even more, almost painfully so.

  Antonio released her mouth. “You will be with me every day, and every night you’ll be in my bed.” He scooped her from the couch and carried her, with little resistance, to the large bed. “Starting tonight. You are mine, Isabella. No man will ever touch you, will ever have the pleasure of knowing your body the way I will know your body.” He put her on her feet and spun her around to get to the zippers and ties at the back of the gown.

  “Antonio—”

  “Not one word, Isabella. I want silence from you until I’ve undressed you. Once you’re naked and laying beneath me, only then will you speak—and I promise you, it won’t be to protest.”

  He tilted her head to the side and began to kiss and nuzzle her neck while his fingers worked the buttons of the dress. Once the gown was open, he pushed it over her shoulders and her hips, letting it pool in a big mess on the floor.

  Her hands moved to cover her bosom, but he pulled her arms down and behind her. “Keep them here, for me. You had no trouble showing my entire kingdom your breasts while in your wedding garb, so you’ll be even more on display for me now.”

  “You didn’t like my gown?” she asked with a fake pout.

  He grinned behind her, safe in the knowledge she couldn’t see him. “I loved the gown, but it was too low-cut. You knew that when you went to the seamstress to have the neckline lowered.” He opened the clasp on the blue satin bra she wore. “Twice. You had it lowered twice.”

  He could feel her smirk as he pulled the straps down her arms and threw the bra across the room. “I was trying to make the dress more modern.”

  He spun her back around to face him, capturing her mouth with his. Not in a gentle kiss, but a more demeaning, more punishing one. When he pulled away, her lips were slightly swollen, the rest of her lipstick smeared. “Take off your panties. I want to see all of you.” He stepped back from her, letting her know he would not help. She would undress herself for him.

  Isabella’s eyes locked on his as she hooked her thumbs into the blue panties and yanked them down. She stepped out of them and tossed them at him, laughing when they landed on his shoulder. “There you are, Your Highness. Now you can tell all your friends that you’ve won your conquest.”

  With the back of his hand, he brushed the panties from his shoulder and closed the small gap between himself and Isabella. He didn’t speak a word to her, only reached out and cupped her breasts. They were heavy in his hands, and he used his thumbs to roll her nipples. Fight as she may have wanted to, her eyes rolled upward. She moaned with pleasure as he leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth. Flicking the hardened peak with the tip of his tongue, he continued to massage her.

  “Do you think that was appropriate behavior for a wife?” he asked when he pulled back. Glazed eyes met his, and she shook her head.

  “Probably not.” Her grin told him she had more sass in her than he should probably allow, but his goal at the moment was not to frighten her. She was apprehensive about their marriage. He wanted her to come to his bed willingly and find as much pleasure there as he was sure to.

  He stood at his full height, nearly a head taller than her, and released
her breasts. Sliding his hand down her torso, he found the small nest of curls just above her pussy. “Never shave all of this off. I like this.” He tugged on the curls just enough to get her attention and released, sliding his hand further down. Her legs spread for him, and he kissed her forehead. “There’s a good girl. Let me have my fill of you.”

  “Antonio.” She groaned his name when his fingers danced over her clit and moved even lower, gliding through her wet folds. He thrust two fingers into her passage and felt her flesh grip him. “Oh, fuck.”

  “No. Never use that word.” He pulled his fingers out, letting them linger at the entrance.

  “Fine.” As an agreement it was lacking, but he could see the torment in her eyes. She wanted her way but wanted what he was offering her at the same time.

  “Get on the bed for me.” He released her and stripped out of his suit. He didn’t miss the way her eyes never left him as each piece of clothing exposed more of his body. Spending several hours a day working out and training didn’t go unnoticed by the previous women he’d taken to his bed, but her appreciative glances meant more to him than the others. Which made no sense to him at all.

  He climbed on the bed. Spreading her legs with his hands, he watched her expression. Her lips were parted, her tongue pinched between her teeth. Stretching out on top of her, he pressed his lips to hers again, running his tongue over her lower lip before nipping it softly. “You taste so good,” he murmured against her lips. “But I have a taste for something else. Be a good girl for me and lay still.”

  She gave him a puzzled look as he slithered down her body until he rested on his elbows, his mouth hovering over her wet folds. He inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of her arousal. Wrapping his hand around her right knee, he brought her thigh to his mouth and trailed soft kisses down her leg until he ended where he had begun.

  Using his thumbs, he spread her lips apart, exposing her swollen clit. Her sharp intake of breath suggested to him that the cool air increased her sensitivity. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking it before he flicked her clit.