Chapter 10
If it weren’t for Melissa, who had come over with a variety of dresses from her fashion shows and a suitcase of makeup, Michelle wondered how much effort she would have put into dressing up if left to her own devices.
Melissa had also sent her countless images of the prince, whom she thought was movie-star gorgeous. Michelle didn’t care one way or another. She had wanted to get back on her feet by herself and who knew all she had to do was sell a pair of her panties. So freaking easy.
Carl had sent her the details of their dinner and said that a limousine would pick her up. He told her Prince Aldric’s father owned the five-star hotel where they would meet, which apparently cost over ten billion dollars to build. What’s one million dollars compared to ten billion, right?
Melissa had insisted she wear the pale lilac floor-length gown she had brought. It was fresh and flirty, as well as sexy and sensual and fit for a princess, she said. Michelle stopped telling her she wasn’t going to be a princess. She was going to take the money and run as far away from Marc, Jake, and Evan as she could.
She glanced at herself once more in the mirror and had to admit that Melissa had made her look like a princess after all, including her makeup and hair, which she left as natural as possible.
The limousine arrived on time, and soon Michelle was being chauffeur-driven to The Lilian, the luxury hotel, for dinner with a prince.
Right.
Opulence didn’t quite cover the encompassing beauty that spread before her as she entered the hotel. But as soon as she had arrived, she was whisked away by three official-looking people and two men who clearly looked like bodyguards to the dining hall, which was empty save for Prince Aldric, dressed in a suit with a lapel pin featuring the flag of his country.
She really should have been more nervous than she was, but somehow, she felt a little dead on the inside. But she had to admit that the prince had really tried.
“My beautiful Michelle,” he said in his European accent. “I fear it is not only the purchase of your undergarment that I am after, although that is already a done deal, as you say here in America.
“The money will be transferred to both yours and Mr. Ali’s accounts before the night is out. But I was hoping I would be able to procure the owner’s heart, too. I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you, my beautiful Michelle, from the first moment I saw your video pop up on my page. Please know that I am very serious about what I am saying now. I cannot get you out of my mind. Will you marry me?”
Prince Aldric reached to take her hand but stopped midway at the sound of a chilling threat. Her heart missed a beat while her body instantly warmed at the presence surrounding her.
~~~***~~~
They should have known they wouldn’t be able to live another day without her. How stupid were they to think that Evan thought?
After they had done their damndest not to touch her in their site office, opting instead to fire her and send her home before the cavemen she had turned them into flared to life, and they took her body right there on the desk with all their men outside.
But it wasn’t right. She deserved the whole fucking world.
But while they had approached Frank and told him exactly what their intentions were, his sister, Michelle, and her damn cohort, Carl Ali had sold her panties to a fucking prince.
And now that prince had been on the verge of touching their property, never mind that he had asked her to marry him.
Michelle Carter belonged to them. No one else but them. They knew that since she was nineteen years old, and honestly, they hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since then.
They hadn’t given Frank much of a chance to object and made it clear they were being nothing but courteous by telling him they were going to marry his sister because, fuck, they were done living without her.
But back to the prince, who not only wanted to pay her a million dollars for her panties but also wanted to marry her.
“Touch her, and we’ll have to break your hand,” Marc said. He really had that terrifying darkness down to an art form. Well, he was grumpy with everyone, really, but it had always only been Michelle who managed to make him grin when he thought no one was looking.
“I beg your pardon. This is a private dinner, and you are intruding. I will have my security remove you from the premises immediately.” He clicked his fingers, and his three bodyguards appeared out of nowhere.
Okay, Evan really hoped that Michelle appreciated the fact that they had dressed up in fucking tuxedoes for her and had their hair cut and their beards trimmed neatly. But they were going up against a prince and they had to dress accordingly. By the look on her face, she was not as impressed as they thought she would be. In fact, she looked a little mad.
“Actually, you’re the one trespassing,” Jake said lightly, holding up his hand to the three bodyguards, keeping them in place.
“My father owns this hotel.”
“Not anymore, he doesn’t. And we’re the boss of her panties. All of them.”
Yeah, and if they were going to don suits, they might as well buy the whole fucking hotel for her too.
“If you don’t mind, we’re going to take our wife. But stay and enjoy your dinner,” Evan said as he easily pulled out her chair and scooped her up from her seat. She did not go quietly with them as they brought her up into the penthouse suit.
…Where they planned to make her their wife in every way possible.