Excerpt of The Princess and the Billionaire by Barbara Bretton

It suddenly hit Bronson that she wasn’t half as smart or
sophisticated as she wanted him to believe. Isabelle was a
nineteen-going-on-twenty-year-old girl with a bad case of
the hots for a guy who wasn’t good enough to kiss her Jimmy
Choos. He’d overheard the servants talking about the little
princess and Malraux’s son, and it didn’t take a rocket
scientist to figure out what it was all about.

Just because he was too jaded to believe in
happily-ever-after was no reason to deny the girl her
dreams. She’d learn soon enough that life didn’t always work
out according to plan, not even for princesses with eyes
dark as night.

But still there was something about her that called out to
him. Something that went beyond the allure of her cascade of
dark curls or the sweet curves of her body and touched at
the most primitive part of his soul. She shifted in her
seat, brushing away a lock of hair with an elegant, artless
gesture and for a moment, Bronson knew exactly how she would
feel in his arms. She was too young, too spoiled, too much
trouble for a man as practical and pig-headed as he was, but
still—

I’m not laughing at you, princess, he thought as he met her
eyes. I’m just wondering why I couldn’t have been first.