The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,29
beach, and she had just recently called the president a moron on Twitter...among other things.
“So basically your family picked me because I am boring?”
“Boring is not the best word.”
“What is the better word?”
He paused to think. “Traditional?”
Even he did not look convinced.
“Does it upset you?” He asked curiously. “To be seen as...traditional?”
“No.” Because I had spent my life trying not to draw too much attention to myself. I was boring because if I wasn’t, the press would say it was because of my mother.
“No? Care to share your thoughts?”
“All these rules, how do they not drive you insane?” I asked, switching the subject.
His shoulders seemed to deflate a bit, but he did his best not to show it. “Truthfully, they do. They drive me mad, and I have fought against and even broken them growing up. But it is my reality and duty. Plus, who cares to hear a prince complain? They would just tell me to give up my title. They would say no one is forcing you to be a prince. But that’s a lot harder than you realize. It’s not just a title, it is—”
“It is your family,” I whispered, glancing down at my nails because I understood. “There have been times when I wanted to complain and scream, too, but all I would get is ‘Poor little rich girl. Just give up all your money then and work.’ And in anger, I want to scream, ‘Fine! I will,’ and then I remember. My father gave his whole life to building everything I have now, and in two seconds, I’d throw it away? I couldn’t imagine if it wasn’t just my father, but grandfather and generations of my family.”
“Exactly,” he whispered and lifted my chin. “So make it easy on me, Cinderella, and just say yes.”
“Are you making a move on me right now?” I smacked away his hand. “I may feel for you, but I’m not sacrificing myself along with you.”
“Wow, I’m being pitied. You feel for me,” he repeated.
“Apparently, I can because you need me and my money.”
“Your mother explained you also need me to get that money,” he shot back at me. “Without it, you’ll have nothing.”
Damn it, Mom.
“I just need to get married for the money, but it doesn’t need to be a prince.”
“But who’s better than a prince?”
“A cowboy.”
His eyebrow rose, and he placed his hand onto his chest. “You are trampling all over my pride tonight, Cinderella.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness.” I bowed my head toward him. “You seem like a good guy. I’m sorry for all your trouble, but it’s all for nothing. I have no desire to be a princess or a duchess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call and bug my mother until I get out of here.” I rose from my seat, feeling proud of myself.
“I have until the end of the month to change that,” he said, rising beside me.
I was tall for a girl. However, he was still a whole head taller, so he had to look down at me and I up at him.
“And now that I have met you, I’m going to try my hardest to do so.”
“Why in the world would you do that?”
“Because I do not think I’ll get lucky a second time,” he replied, and I stared at him, not at all sure what he meant by that.
Just when I was about to ask, I turned, hearing the front door unlock. However, it wasn’t my mother. It was a man with white and gray hair, despite the fact that he wasn’t much older than I was. He wore a black suit and held luggage in both of his hands.
“Who are you?”
“Cinderella, meet my personal bodyguard, Iskandar Ruegg. Iskandar meet...Cinderella.”
I looked at him. “Are you going to keep calling me that?”
“That is what you introduced yourself to me as, no?” he was clearly teasing me with a massive grin on his face.
Ignoring him, I turned back to the man.
He bowed his head to me. “Hello, ma’am. Where may I put these?” he asked in a dull and uninterested tone, but that was less important than the things he was pointing at.
“Where do you put those? I don’t know. In a hotel?” I said very clearly.
“Your mother arranged for us to stay here,” the prince beside me said.
“Of course, she did,” she muttered, really ready for this dream to be over. “You are a prince. I’m sure you have enough funds to stay at a hotel or—”