Romancing Mister Bridgerton Novels & Stories

She was pretty, but she kept bowing her head, as if she's trying so hard to disappear into the shadows. Meanwhile, the man wore a general's uniform with dozens of medals pinned on it. Judging by his arrogant stance and condescending tone, he did not earn those medals. I smiled tightly. "Ah, pardon my manners. I'm Duke Anton Fontaine of Michestershire. I thought you would have known me, but clearly you didn't take the time to memorize the faces of your soon-to-be family?" He tsked, but held his hand out to me and looked like I should be grateful to be in his presence.

But then again, I didn’t agree to meet him here or at all which brings me to my next question. “Who are you?” “I’m Anthony.” His name immediately clicks and I scoff at him, me, and the world as I look away from him. “Of course, Anthony Romano. I should’ve known.” “Should’ve known what, Miss Dexter?” “That you mafia men never take no for an answer.” I snap. “You can’t marry me, Mr. Romano because I’m no good at the moment.” I mutter that last bit to myself but he grabs it anyway.

Our breathing had slowed, our hearts had settled, but the memory of the night lingered—soft, intimate, unforgettable. I turned my head to look at him, his chest bare in the morning sunlight, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths, every feature of him seared into my mind. He opened one eye, caught mine, and smiled—the kind of smile that made every single past fear, every single long separation, every single loss melt away into nothing. I reached out for him, touching his cheek gently. “Good morning,” I whispered. “Good morning, mon amour,” he said, his hand cupping my face, his thumb tracing my lips.

I breathed, the name escaping in a voice thick with lust, one I barely recognized as my own. His eyes lifted to mine, dark and molten. He bent his head low, hovering just above one peaked nipple. “Yes, Mrs. Claire,” he murmured, the title soft now, almost teasing, before he closed his mouth over the sensitive bud, my back arched from the bed as I moaned out loud.

Romeo asked with a forced smile, bowing his head to match that of the slender lady he was talking to - Bria Leone. "My coffee has gone cold" Bria said, with almost no enthusiasm in the tone of her voice. She was still seated confidently, legs crossed and her hair covered with a white hat that matched the long designer suit she wore. "Oh.." Romeo raised his head, trying to hide his disappointment. ".. right.. sorry about that.." he forced a smile again and picked up the land phone on his table. He returned it after muttering a few words and then turned back to Bria Leone who showed no interest in their conversation.

“An empty glass for Piper, and for Veronica…” “Merlot,” Veronica said. “Merlot,” Bridget said. She lowered her hand to her side, which placed the notecard at her hip near Veronica. Veronica’s eyes flitted down to it. Bridget didn’t seem to notice. The servant nodded, and made her exit. “Are you excited for the challenge tomorrow?” I asked Bridget, hoping to fulfill my role in distracting her, so that Veronica could make her move. “I am,” Bridget said. “Confident too. I’m certain I have the best chance of winning the date with Nicholas. Ah, a romantic boat cruise. It will be so romantic. I can’t wait!”

his voice went lower and his eyes burned darkly, “I’m going to feed you with my meat.” “Ouu,” I moved closer to him, my flirting audacious. “I do like meat.” “Uh-huh.” “Especially your meat. I want to stuff myself with it.” “You’re asking for it, William.” “Give it to me, Tristan. I want everything.” We were so close together, our faces illuminated by the light of a lone candle between us. I inched a finger closer, trailing towards him on the tips of them— “Monsieur Richmond,” interrupted a nasally and high-sounding voice, “Monsieur Bracknell, it gives me ze most zelightful honor to present your meal today—”

CHAPTER 8 Parties and Rules JASMINE VALE If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was taking me to a date, cause I felt like a queen as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked so....good and different. With a black long body fitted gown, with long sleeves and silver heels that probably cost more than a normal worker's yearly salary, and a make-up that looked simple yet powerful, I felt like a Queen. I never thought I could be this beautiful, it made me smile.

“That’s what you call it?” Rhian sat opposite him, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him playfully. “What else should I call it? You practically turned the living room into a scene from a romance movie. Roses, candles, velvet box…” Her lips twitched into a grin. “I half-expected a violinist to jump out of the closet.” Damon’s smirk deepened. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. “Next time? So you’re planning to outdo yourself?”

He planted a soft kiss on my knuckles, bringing a smile to my face. “Sure, Mr vampire.” We relished the delicious meal, talked and exchanged loving glances. The atmosphere filled with an air of contentment and happiness. As dessert arrived, Jonathan presented a small box adorned with a satin ribbon and placed it in front of me. My heart skipped a beat as I untied the ribbon and opened the box, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant in the shape of a heart. “Oh, Jonathan, it’s beautiful.” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of emotions welling up inside me.