The Prince’s Bride – Part 1 (The Prince’s Bride #1) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Prince's Bride Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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“What was wrong with just giving him a chance?” I questioned gently to myself as I rose from the chair, taking my bowl to the kitchen.

Ring.

Ring.

“Coming!” I called toward the front door as I put my bowl into the sink. I dusted off my hands before rushing to the door. I peeked out first only to see red roses. Who would be sending my mom red roses?

“Yes?” I asked, eyeing the man with the massive bouquet. There were so many that I could barely see the delivery guy.

“Ms. Odette Wyntor?”

“Me?”

“That’s what the order says.” He shifted the roses in his hands. “You have to sign for these, but can I put them down first?”

“Sure.” I moved out of the way. “The table by the stairs is fine.”

“Got it,” he said, putting them down before lifting the machine at his hip and giving it to me. I signed and gave it back. He also gave me a letter. “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks,” I said, closing the door behind him before I glanced down at the envelope in my hand. On the front, my name was written in the most beautiful calligraphy. Flipping it over, I pulled out the letter.

NOVEMBER 1

Dear Odette,

I apologize for my words and your kitchen—the latter was an accident, and the former was my immaturity. You may not believe this, but I was very much against marrying when my family first told me. I put up a short-lived fight. I even said if the reign had to end, so be it. I would not marry a woman I did not know or love. As I am here, you can clearly see I lost that battle swiftly.

So, when my brother called me, he was eagerly waiting for good news from me and wanting to know what my initial thoughts were upon meeting you. My pride got the best of me. That is the reason I said what I did. I could not stand for him to tease me if he knew what I first thought, which was that you are so many things. You are the first woman I’ve had the pleasure of truly speaking so freely with. And the first woman to speak to me normally, as well. You’re impractically and unbelievably beautiful, and maybe marrying you would not be as bad as I thought...these are all the things I thought of in the short time that I have known you.

I was embarrassed to admit that to my brother. But it is the truth.

In my country, there are four national flowers. The first is the red rose, a symbol of renowned beauty and grace—a perfect fit for you. They say beauty fades, however, and as so, in this bouquet, there is one made that shall never die or fade. I promise on that rose that I will always admire the beauty and grace in you.

Our meeting was not by our choice.

This morning was my fault.

So tonight, will you accompany me to dinner and allow me to make up for it?

Awaiting your reply,

GM.

“Holy hell.”

I jumped at my mother’s voice, hugging the letter to my chest. She was reading behind me this whole time, and I hadn’t even notice.

“If you don’t go to that dinner, I swear I will, and he’ll be your stepfather.” She grinned, moving to the roses, searching over them.

“It’s a little much. He could have just texted,” I muttered, trying to hide the smile on my face.

“You really need to drop that habit of pushing away things you like,” she said, turning the flowers around to look at the side. “You love cheesy stuff.”

“I do not—”

“You do. You get it from me. I’m your mother, so I know.”

I grabbed my flowers. God, they were heavy. “Maybe you should get your own love life, Mom.”

“I don’t want to overshadow you, sweetheart.”

Rolling my eyes, I walked up the stairs. Thankfully, she didn’t follow me into the spare bedroom I always used here. Walking to the bed, I placed the roses in front of me and began to search. I tried not to smile, but who couldn’t with something like this.

Who still wrote a letter like that nowadays?

Apparently, princes.

And I liked it much better than a text message.

“Found you,” I whispered, lifting out the red, silk rose.

What harm can dinner be? I thought, taking out my phone. But then I remembered I didn’t have his number. However, I had a feeling my mother did. The only thing was, I didn’t want to see the look she’d give me. The second I thought that, I glanced back down at his letter. His reason for saying what he had said was his pride, and my reason for not getting his number was my pride.

“Wow, Odette,” I whispered, gently touching the petals of the roses. This was probably one of the similarities my mom was talking about between him and me.


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