ROYAL BRIDE (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (41 page)

"Nick’s in for a treat," Amy said as she glanced at me again. “You look really curvy.”

"Curvy? You mean fatter?" I asked, pulling up my tee-shirt in front of the mirror. I loved my curves, but I didn't want anyone calling my fat. Fat meant I was slacking on exercise, which meant being unhealthy. I was curvy, not unhealthy.

"Relax, girl, you look curvy and hot. I wish I had your body," she sighed as she looked at her body.

Amy was as lanky as a stick, and even though she ate much more than I could, she didn't gain an ounce of weight. Back in high school, the teachers thought she was bulimic and had made her get a doctor's note to prove otherwise, which I’d always thought was inappropriate.

"You look great, Amy," I said. What else could I to say? The poor thing had been on so many fattening diets but nothing worked. Her doctors had explained that her metabolism was simply super-charged.

"That's what you always say," Amy said, smiling as she brought a plate of food to the coffee table.

"I had that in my fridge?" I asked, looking suspiciously at the plate of bacon, sausage, eggs, and waffles.

"Not a fat chance. Went to grocery after you slept off yesterday.”

"I see," I said as I started digging into the food, piling up my plate and drizzling maple syrup over the waffles.

"Someone's hungry," she said, laughing.

"Well, I better eat well now because I may be spending the rest of my life in prison for identity theft."

"Okay, you need to drop this impersonation thing. If I took the card and wore the necklace and showed up as Sara Nolles, that's impersonation. If Sara Nolles showed up as Sara Nolles, that's accepting an invitation."

"Right, but only if the right Sara Nolles shows up."

Amy reached out and grabbed the card, which was lying next to her on the couch. She made an exaggerated effort of looking at the card while she made faces. I couldn't help laughing as I saw her face contour into many shapes as she pretended to carefully examine the card.

"All I see here is a card addressed to Sara Nolles. Sara Nolles is sitting in front of me. Everything matches up. Now, let's talk about how the rest of the day is going to go.”

I looked at her and saw a sly smile curving her lips. She was on a mission to get me to the ball, and I had lost the battle. I had to concede.

"What is the plan?" I asked, dreading her list of things for me to do before the actual event.

"Hair, nails, makeup. I made appointments for you at the spa."

"But..."

"No buts. It's all on me, Sara. You always take care of me. Please allow me to enjoy spoiling you.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. "Your food is getting cold," Amy reminded me.

I picked up my fork and continued eating my meal. "So, what time is our appointment?" I asked between chewing my food. Before she could answer, my cell phone rang. My first thought was that it was Nick, calling to claim his invitation and pick up his necklace. Or maybe it was his staff, who had just realized their error. Or maybe the real Sara Nolles had appeared at Nick's estate, I'm sure he had one, and was upset about not getting her invitation and gift.

"Are you going to get it?" Amy asked, looking at me and glancing casually at the phone which lay next to me on the table.

"I was going to let it go to voicemail," I said weakly. I read the caller id. "Besides, it's a blocked number. It's probably just a telemarketer and I don't want to deal with that right now."

"Bull shit, sister! You're scared it might be Nick Saunders," she said, laughing. "I'll answer then."

"Heck no," I said, reaching out to keep my phone away from her. But before I could touch the phone, she picked it up. I grunted. This girl was going to be the death of me.

"Hello, Sara Nolles’ phone," Amy said in a professional voice I hadn’t known she possessed. In spite of my fear, I giggled. Whoever was on the other line must think I was this ultra-rich, "elite" girl who had a personal assistant to answer her cell phone.

Whoever was on the other line said something and Amy looked at me, giving me a thumbs up. I raised my hands, shrugging my shoulder.

"Yes, she will be attending," Amy said and winked at me. She sounded so sure of herself I couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, this is Amy, her personal assistant. I'll let her know."

I glanced quizzically at her. So it was someone from the Saunders Empire calling me. And she was my personal assistant? She was setting me up for failure. Now Nick would think I was wealthy when I didn’t have more than a few hundred dollars to my name.

"She will be ready," Amy replied to whatever the other person said. “Yes, I’ll make sure she knows.” After a few more back and forth talks, Amy hung up. "Gosh, girl. If you don't go to this party, I will."

"Why, what did they say?" I acted cool and uninterested, but I was dying to know what the man or woman on the other end had told her. "Was that Nick?"

"So now you want to know? I thought you didn't care about the party or Nick Saunders. And when did he become Nick to you?" She wore that mischievous smile I hated on her face.

"Amy, if you don't tell me what that phone call was about, I will throw you out of my house."

"You mean your tiny studio apartment? If I leave, I'll be leaving with my food," she said and made a show of packing up the unfinished breakfast.

"Amy, come on. I need to know what that was all about."

"Okay. Just promise not to freak out." I nodded. "So Nick Saunders is sending a limo to pick you up at seven this evening."

"No, no. He can't do that."

"What do you mean he can't do that? That's probably what they do for all their guests attending the ball."

"Amy, their guests are the richest folks in this part of the world. I would think they'd all be flying to the ball in their private jets."

"You’re funny. Anyway, the man on the phone was some sort of party planner finalizing things. He wanted to know if you wanted the driver to bring some designer dresses and shoes for you and wanted to know your sizes.”

"What?"

"I told them not to bother. You may be broke, but I'm not letting some asshole think you need his handout dresses. You have a lovely dress and you'll be wearing that tonight. I picked it out and I know it’s perfect.

"So now he's an asshole?" I giggled.

"I never said he wasn't."

NICK

Saturday morning arrived rather too quickly for Nick. He had spent all week making final arrangements with Zia for the party. He had worked on coordinating the rest of his plans to get Sara to come to the party even though some of the plans were cancelled - like the dozen roses he had wanted to send her but canceled when he realized that could make her overly cautious.

That morning as he gazed at his property from his bedroom window, it looked so different. It had looked like a golf course, and now it looked like a wedding reception site. Between the chairs, tents, flowers, and all the staff wandering around adding the final touches, it looked like someone was about to get married. But that's how it always seemed with these parties. All the hustling and bustling was worth it, though, to preserve their preservation. He saw Zia, dressed in a short dress, holding a clipboard and shouting instructions to the crew. He smiled. Zia always had things under control.

He hated having to dress up and tolerate old men and their catty wives for hours on end. But there was something about today that made him feel differently. Sara Nolles. She had never called to cancel her invitation. She had confirmed that she would ride in the limo sent to pick her up, which was good. She was going to be there.

He tried to remember her as she was in the cafe – beautiful and feisty. Now he was going to be within reach of her in a few hours. She was going to be in his home where he had privacy. Maybe she would let him near her. He had sensed at their first meeting that she was overly cautious, so he knew wooing her was going to be an uphill battle.

He took a shower, dressed in white linen pants and shirt and went outside to join Zia. Several of his staff greeted him as he passed them.

"Hey, Zia," he called, kissing his sister on both cheeks.

"What is this I hear about the limo picking some girl up for the party?"

Nick looked at her, wondering how to handle her. If he blew her off and she discovered Sara at the party, she could cause a scene. "Do you need the limo?"

"No, I have my own," she smirked. “You’re evading my question.”

"Why are you so concerned with what I'm doing with my limo?"

"Because you've never sent the limo to pick up a girl. Is she the one that's got you all flustered? The one I said to fuck and get over?”

Nick looked around and noticed some of his staff looking at them. They pretended to be working, but he knew they were listening. He didn't want rumors spreading about Sara before she even met him as Nick Saunders. And Zia using words like fuck, even though it didn’t bother him, sort of undermined Sara, and he desperately wanted to protect her reputation.

"Zia, people are paying attention," Nick said as he pulled her to the side.

"She's the one that's got you flustered, isn't she?"

"I like her," Nick finally admitted to his sister, his lip curled. “But she’s none of your business.”

"You don't sound too pleased. If you like her, you should look happier," Zia said, looking him up and down. “Besides, any girl that comes into your life is my business. And you should know that.”

"I’m not angry. Sometimes you can be so self-absorbed. You think everything is about you." Nick sighed, exasperated.

“It’s not all about me?” Zia said, laughing. “I’ve been delusional.”

“Z, you’re a piece of work. One day you’re going to really put your foot in your mouth.”

"But you’ll be around the corner to save my butt if that were to ever happen.”

"I can't do it forever, you know," Nick said. “Save your butt.”

"Whatever. So, who is she? Wait, don't tell me. She's that Sara somebody on our guest list, isn't she?"

Nick nodded. There was no point denying what his sister would find out in a couple of hours. What did it matter at that point anyway? Sara was coming and that's all that mattered.

"Have I met her?" Zia asked, more relaxed now.

"No."

"Where did you meet her?"

"It's a long story," Nick said.

"Well, lucky for you, I have time to listen to my brother tell me about the love of his life."

"It’s not like that. She doesn't even know me, at least not the way you think."

Zia looked at Nick. "Okay, Nick Saunders, you better start talking. You’re sending a limo to get some girl you don’t know. Start talking.”

"Maybe later."

"No, right now," Zia said as she pulled his hand and started walking to one of their private gazebos. “You need to tell me what is going on.”

Nick spent the next hour telling Zia how he met Sara and how he had sent her the diamond necklace.

"So she doesn't know the necklace and invitation are from the same guy in the café?”

"No."

"How do you suppose you'll connect with her today? Walk up to her and lay on the charm?”

"That's what I've always done."

"And it's worked for those sluts you've dated. This one sounds like a tough nut to crack. Wouldn't be surprised if she were a virgin."

Nick blushed at the thought of a virgin mate. Could Sara really be a virgin? Rob, his private investigator, hadn't mentioned that in his report, which was good. That would have been creepy.

Zia looked at him and started laughing. "You know what virgins are, right? I know you've never seen one."

Nick playfully smacked her hand. "Are you saying you're a slut?"

"Hey there, brother, watch your mouth," Zia said and looked around to make sure no one was looking at them. “Or I’ll take your virgin bride off the list.”

Nick looked at his sister and laughed. "You better not mess with her.”

"I take it Ms. Nolles will not be donating ten million at this event."

"Highly unlikely,” Nick said.

"You will be making a donation for her." It wasn't a question. It was a fact. Nick nodded. "That's coming out of your pocket money, Nick Saunders, not the company’s."

"Of course," Nick said. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He had already planned to make a donation on Sara’s behalf, except he hadn’t yet figured out how he could do it without embarrassing her.

"She better be one good piece of ass! Ten-million-dollar ass. And if she’s a skinny bitch, I swear, I'll disown you." Zia left her brother and went back to the party planning.

Nick smiled. From what he remembered of Sara, she was far from bony. Nick had always wanted a woman with extra meat, and Sara was curvy all right. He smiled at his sister, who had moved on to throwing out commands at the staff. He almost wanted to tell Zia to take a break and let the party planner they had hired take care of things, but he changed his mind when he saw the young woman who looked like she was straight out of college standing in the corner, shaking and probably wondering why she had been hired as a planner in the first place.

SARA

A few hours later, I felt like a princess. My black hair was pinned up with a couple of loose curls purposefully escaping the sides. My nails had been painted, and Amy was doing my makeup much better than I expected. Initially, she had hired a makeup artist, but I had convinced her to cancel the appointment and make me up herself. Amy was good at it, and since she knew me better than anyone else, I knew she would do an amazing job of making me feel pretty.

"Done," she said as she stepped aside to admire her work.

"How do I look?" I asked, smacking my lips and tasting the strawberry-flavored lip liner she had used on my lips.

"Don't mess up your lipstick!" I smacked my lips again and made a face at her. "Gosh, sometimes I wonder if you're really an adult." I could see a faint smile on her lips.

I got up and walked to my dresser mirror. My eyes popped as I looked at myself. My hair, usually untamable, was sitting perfectly on top of my head, curls cascading down to the side in a controlled but sexy way. My lips were a deep shade of red, a color I'd never have used on myself. My glasses were gone, and in their place were my neutral contacts, which brought out my hazel eye color. Amy had accentuated my eyes with mascara and eye liner, making them bigger than I remembered.