Royally Bad (Bad Boy Royals #1)
Nora Flite
- CHAPTER ONE -
SAMMY
Fingers crawled up the outside of my thigh. They might as well have been cutting through the layers of my organza dress, because my skin tingled like he was touching me directly.
Who was he, you ask?
Dressed in a crisp, midnight-blue suit that didn’t fit his bad boy persona—and a cocky smirk that totally did—Kain Badd was the biggest pain in my ass since I’d tried on my first thong. Sure, the guy was cut from marble, and his eyes were the kind of blue that was reserved for Photoshop magazine edits . . . but he was a dick.
He also had a pretty nice dick. Please don’t ask me how I know.
None of that mattered, because in just a few hours this wedding would be over with, and I wouldn’t have to see him ever again. Till then, I was stuck at Kain’s side, enduring his constant attempts to work me up until I was hot and bothered. The fucker was winning.
Loud, echoing, bell-filled music sang through the air. Swatting Kain’s fingers away again, I shot him a pointed scowl. His smile showed off his teeth, telling me he didn’t care that I was getting mad. The bastard was getting to me, and he knew it.
Clearing my throat, I stared down the aisle at the bride coming our way. The gown glowed on her, making me swell with pride. I’d made that dress, it was born from my sweat and tears. The clicking cameras let me know that by tomorrow people would be knocking on my door to get my business.
This was all worth it. I had to keep reminding myself of that.
Kain trailed a hand up my spine, whispering in my ear, “She’s stealing the show, but honestly, I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”
Flushing, I hissed, “Shut up and focus!”
“That’s tough when I can see your tits rising with every tiny breath.”
Kicking him in the ankle, I put on a big smile for the bride. Glossy and golden, she met my stare with glee. The money, the fame, and the fact I’d made this young woman’s day. All of it was worth—what the hell?
Over the heads of the crowd, I saw dark figures marching through the rosebushes. Their helmets glinted, almost as much as their guns did.
“Get down!” someone shouted.
Everyone came alive in a panic, running or pushing to get away. Kain’s fingers threaded with mine—then faceless men in body armor tackled him hard, tearing us apart.
A second later, the full weight of one of the men slammed me to the ground. “Don’t move!” That command was fierce; it made my ears ring. Move? Was he joking? I couldn’t even scream, the air had burst right out of me.
Boots stomped, people roared, and over it all I heard the distinct wail of sirens. An arm crushed across the nape of my neck, metal kissing my wrists.
I was being arrested.
How the hell had this happened?
Two days earlier
I think I might be the worst business owner in the world.
As I packaged up the gorgeous gown crafted from ivory lace and hand-sewn crystal beads, I knew it was true. After all, the gown had cost me several hundred dollars to make, I’d been planning to sell it for a few thousand, and here I was . . .
Giving it away for free.
The young woman rubbed at her cheeks, failing to hide the dewy mist of tears. She’d been welling up with them ever since I’d told her that she was the lucky Platinum Bride of the Month—of which there was no such thing.
It wasn’t my best lie, but it would work.
Hazel had been in my store several times with her fiancé. She’d told me over and over how excited she was for this wedding. Marrying the man she’d adored since high school was her dream.
She’d promised to pay off the dress by the end of last month. That hadn’t happened. Then she’d said she’d pay by last week, but again, nothing. I didn’t need to be a psychic to know something terrible had gone wrong. Hazel wasn’t the type to screw anyone over.
Yesterday, driving down the highway, I’d seen her fiancé on the corner holding a sign: out of work, will do anything for money.
Like many, he’d lost his job when the local soap factory closed last month.
Call me weak, or frail, or just . . . stupid, but there was no way I was going to let this poor woman walk away without her dream dress.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she sniffled, laughing nervously at her own reaction.
I shoved the package her way with my biggest grin. “Like I said, you’re the winner this month! You don’t need to thank me at all. It’s out of my hands.”
Scrubbing at her nose, she hugged the box tight to her chest. She was red from throat to eyelid, a total mess from how happy she was. “I’ll send you some photos from the wedding,” she promised.
“You better!” I laughed.
Hazel didn’t take her eyes off of me until she got to the door. I was afraid she might start bowing. “Seriously,” she said, pushing at the exit and making the bell jingle. “If you hadn’t given me this, I don’t know what I would have done. Canceled the wedding, lost the deposit, I just—”
“Shh shh shh!” I flapped my hands. “Send me those photos. I’ll hang them on our monthly winners’ board.” I didn’t have one of those, either.
Her smile went so wide it almost touched her ears. “Thank you. You’ve got a good heart.”
I swelled at her compliment. It was hard not to.
But good hearts don’t pay the bills.
The instant she was out of sight, I slumped behind my front desk and put my face in my hands. I am such an idiot. Giving away what I needed to keep my bridal shop afloat was pure insanity. That’s what’s going on, I thought to myself. Somewhere along the way, my brain has cracked.
I’d opened my business just three months ago. It had been a quick, messy process. Moving back to my hometown had been even messier. It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter; what daughter wouldn’t rush back to take care of her sick mother?
Regardless, I was here. I meant to make the best of it.
Too bad I was also my worst enemy.
Sighing, I slapped my cheeks to shake myself from my funk. Focus. Put on some music and make yourself useful. Cranking up my small radio, I shuffled through the songs until I found “Hide Away” by Daya. The piano began, pumping me up, guiding me out from behind my desk.
This was what I needed. Music had a way of sinking into your bones and erasing your worries. It was magical, forcing me to swing to the fast-paced beat, demanding I forget all about my problems.
My mistakes.
Bouncing on my heels, I grabbed a wedding gown from the rack. It was glittery, miles of tulle. I meant to just move it to a mannequin so I could tweak the ribbons on the corset that I hadn’t finished yet. When the chorus of the song began, I swung the dress in a circle.
My hips rocked, my hair flipped, and I jammed it out on my shop floor with that white gown in my arms. Laughing, I twirled around with the dress like it was my private lover . . .