Prince: A Filthy Sweet Fairy Tale Romance by Miranda Martin

Author:Miranda Martin [Martin, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grab Miranda Martin’s Newsletter and be the first to know about new releases, deals and general antics
Published: 2017-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Elle

The gorgeous Singarti prince's arm feels hard and muscled under my hand as I follow him onto the dance floor. He looks like he belongs here, in this dream-like setting that doesn't feel quite real.

I was focused almost entirely on my dress for tonight. I almost forgot that I was going to the biggest party of the year, the one where every invitation is coveted. Seeing this place has me remembering that fact. The ballroom is more beautiful than I could have expected or imagined. When I first stepped inside, I had to just stop and look around for a moment, stunned.

The complex musical notes twinning with the pretty light displays near the high ceiling add a whimsical feel to the room that I didn’t expect. The way the floor colors shimmer and change charms me.

Waiters walk around with trays of pretty food in tiny pieces, making their way through the glittering crowd unobtrusively, their black uniforms easily identifiable but not drawing attention from the guests' clothing.

And the clothing is really the show, isn't it? I know it is for me. Everywhere I look, there are examples of dresses from well-known designer labels. These dresses cost more than most people make in a year, and I’ve never seen any of them in person. There doesn't seem to be any one style either—sedate ball gowns stand next to skintight dresses and skirt-and-top combinations.

I’d have to say that the overall theme would be “over-the-top.” Tiaras and sequins and glittery makeup seem to be popular, in many cases, all of them put together on one person.

Am I underdone? I touch my hair a little self-consciously. But I know I don’t want to look like that. I had Gwenda keep the hair and makeup simple, not wanting anything to compete with the dress.

As we reach the dance floor, my attention goes back to my dance partner. Tall and broad-shouldered, he fills out the white tuxedo jacket flawlessly. It's obviously custom made to fit his powerful body, to show off his muscled frame. The black bow tie at his throat contrasts crisply with the starched white shirt, showing off his strong, tanned throat. With his black pants, his clothes present a classic air of elegance. He isn't trying to be the most fashionable person there. I like the understated tuxedo. If he tried to be too trendy, it might be too much with his good looks.

His dark blonde hair is swept off his face, highlighting the strong contours, the high cheekbones, the hollows of his cheeks, the strong jaw line and straight nose. He's clean-shaven, no hair to distract from the arresting beauty of his face.

His dark green eyes watch me as he pulls me in against him. I don't know what he's thinking, but I looks like his attention is all on me. It's flattering and also a little frightening.

As my feet hit the dance floor, I have a small panic attack as I remember I really don't know how to dance. What was I thinking when I accepted? What if I make a fool of myself? Too late to bow out now.

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