Hollywood Princess (Hollywood Royalty #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hollywood Royalty Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“Kellie, Kellie, Kellie.” The chanting gets louder and louder.

“I have to get back out there.” I look at them. Brian looks like he’s ready to take me out of here. “I’m not going to let him win.” My head held high, I push my shoulders back and walk back on stage to give them everything I have left. And slay I do. When I’m ushered off the stage after the last standing ovation, Cori meets me, spewing off things I don’t even understand. “If you need anything, call. If not, well, you have Brian.”

I get on the bus, Brian gets on the bus after me, and when the doors close, the bus takes off. “Do you need help?” He looks at me. “I know Cori usually helps you out of that thing.” He points at my cat girl outfit.

“No,” I mumble, going to my room. “I have it.” I shut the door and then try to unzip myself, but even I have to admit defeat when after ten minutes of trying to bend myself into a pretzel, I can’t get the zipper down. I open the door and walk out to see him arranging food on a plate. He looks up, and I see the white Styrofoam cup with the red writing on it.

“I got you Chick-fil-A.” He brings the plate to the table. “Why are you still wearing that?” he asks with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t get it unzipped,” I tell him softly, looking at the table. He puts my sandwich on a paper plate and the black bowl of chicken bites sits in front of it with packages of honey mustard. “Can you?” I walk to him and turn around and feel his hands at my neck. His hands go into the collar and two fingers rub my neck while his other hand pulls the zipper all the way down to the bottom of my back. I walk away from his touch, amazed he went out of his way to make sure I have something to eat. I shut the door and peel myself out of my clothes, then jump in the shower. I put on my joggers and my thick sweater and walk out. He is sitting on the couch with his iPad in his lap. “Um.” I look at the food as I sit down. “Thank you,” I say softly.

“You’re welcome,” he says, and I grab a chicken bite and dip it in the sauce and then toss it in my mouth. “The guy on stage was a teenager in love with you. He wasn’t our guy.” I nod and release a relieved sigh. “So are we going to talk about what got you upset before you walked on stage?”

I stop chewing and just look over at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Playing stupid is what I’m going to do, and no one can make me do otherwise.

“Really?” he asks, tossing his iPad to the side and sitting up. “Maybe I should refresh your memory.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should,” I tell him angrily. “I mean, please do tell.”

“You saw me sitting at the table with Stacey, and you think I was flirting with her.” I’m about to say something, but he holds up his hand. “And I will add she was flirting with me but not vice versa.”

“I don’t care who you flirt with,” I tell him, and it tastes like battery acid in my mouth. Not that I know what battery acid tastes like, but I’m sure it’s just like this. “I don’t care what you do or who you do it with. Just as I’m sure you don’t care what or who I do.” I glare at him. “Right?”

“Right.” He hisses out the words. “Now eat and drink.” He sits back down, and I want to ignore him and stomp into my room, but I’m hungry and thirsty, so I eat and then drink two bottles of water. I get up, cleaning my plate. I walk to the couch to sit next to him, and he moves over.

“You can lie down. I know you must be tired,” he says softly, and I’m not even going to mention that’s a nice gesture. I grab the remote and turn on the television and start Shameless. We watch another five episodes before the bus stops, and I look at my watch. “I think we have arrived.”

“Already?” I ask him. Getting up, I look outside and see the sign to the Four Seasons.

“Stay here. I’m going to go check in,” he tells me and then walks out of the bus and into the lobby. It takes him no more than three minutes to come back with a key. “Okay, I have the key. Let’s go.” He walks behind me and talks to the bellhop, telling him what room we are in and to bring up all the bags. He ushers me to the side elevator, and we ride up to the floor. He places the key in front of the black circle, and the green light flashes, unlocking the door. He holds open the door to let me walk ahead of him, and I click on the light. I walk down the hallway into the open living room. A plush purple couch sits against the wall with a glass table in front of it. A little table in the corner with two chairs are in front of the couch. I walk into the doorway and see one king-size bed. I turn around, looking for the other room, and find nothing but a door to the bathroom.


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