Romancing Mr Bridgerton Novels & Stories

"I hate to say this but it means that the entire clan of the Bridgertons is going to protect you by all means, Ms. Clarkson." he retorted. "and it might not end well for both of us. So, if you want us to protect you from getting killed by those wolves, cooperate with us before it's gonna be too late." Mr. Bridgerton's statement even worried me the most. I did not completely understand everything he said but I don't want to die either just because I discovered their secrets.

I could see streaks of silver on them and it looked so good, almost ethereal. I arranged his bushy dark brows with my fingers. I always found the slashes between them hot. How on earth was I expected to give up a man like this? To who? Isla? She didn't even do half of the things I did to get his attention before he finally decided to marry me and now, she was trying to ruin it? “Don't worry, Roman,” I said softly. “In a few weeks, I will be giving you some really good news.” I made sure to coax him into releasing inside me. When you're drugged, a condom doesn't really make sense to you.

“Later. We’ll unpack the juicy drama over brunch. Tonight, you’re me. Lilyanna Russo. Fashion icon, I*******m darling, certified bad bitch. Your mission is simple: be a nightmare. Scare him off. Mention Bigfoot. Cry over nothing. Get weird.” “I can’t believe you’re paying me thirty grand to destroy a blind date.” it was my own turn to groan now. “More like a business meeting disguised as romance. My parents are trying to marry me off to get a real estate deal. This guy is probably ninety with hair plugs and a yacht named Daddy Issues,” she said with a tiny shrug.

She was the only one I could have a meaningful conversation with. Not one to be stingy with good friends, I picked out the most extravagant bridal gown in the store for her wedding in the future. The retail assistant processed the transaction with thrill and chattered away. “Sir, you must love your wife a lot. It reminds me of the romance between Mr. Bartone and Ms. Watt. They grew up together, and he came back years later from abroad to take her hand. It’s like a fairy tale.” I spotted the clip playing on the retail assistant’s phone, knowing what she was talking about.

"Like we're all blind." "James," their mother hissed. "Hush." "I'm just saying, if you're going to bring your boyfriend to your sister's wedding, maybe don't insult everyone's intelligence by—" "James Alexander Bridgerton, I swear to God—"

he says. I sit up right and stand dusting invisible lint off my jacket, great here comes the fun part. I motion Marco forward, “Surely you taught your son that nothing comes free in life”. Marco clears his throat and looks towards his children, his expression grim and tone deep when he says, “In return of Roman’s gracious decision we will need to pay it back” his voice fills with deep remorse when he turns towards Elena and says, “You will be marrying Roman Russo”.

Then he takes me to his room, climbing the steps quickly, while he still holds me in his arms, my cheeks begin to turn a little red, as I watch his muscles tense around him. Upon arriving at his really clean and spacious room, he takes me in front of his bed to lie down on it delicately, while he runs his lips along my neck, making me feel in heaven, and then puts his hands on my breasts on the dress. He slowly tears off the beautiful dress, but my kind heart doesn't allow him to do it, so I stop him. “Don't destroy this,” I beg him between kisses. “It's Abby's.” He ignores me and breaks it in half, shushing me with his tongue in my mouth, the taste is incredibly delicious. Mint, champagne,

The guard left, and my stomach sank to the floor. I wanted to scream at him. Throw the book at his head. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe. The door opened again, and Bridget strolled in like she owned the room. Clicking heels. Blood-red dress. A fake smile on her lips. She didn’t spare me more than a glance, just enough to glare, before her attention was on Caspian. “Darling,” she purred, walking straight up to him and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

This was as good an apology as she would ever get it… She knew it was his way of telling her that he knew she deserved a better setting for her first time, but that she couldn’t expect him to be a romantic partner. “As memorable as it could be,” she nodded at him, a lazy blissful smile stretching her lips. She had half a mind to tell him it had been everything she had hoped for and more, but she couldn’t. This was Roman freaking Bianchi. He was a mafia boss, and he didn’t do romance as far as she knew. Before long, they left the dimly lit bar, with Rose limping a little bit, her soreness both tingling with pleasure and slightly painful at the same time.

Like she owned the room and I was the one lucky enough to be invited in. I made my way to her, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I already knew I was failing. I looked at her the way a man looks at something he’s not sure he deserves. “Ah, Ethan,” she said, switching back to English without missing a beat. “This is Mr. Battaglini and Mr. Rossi. They were just telling me how no gala is complete without a three-hour speech from a Duke who nobody remembers.” I chuckled, shaking their hands. “I hope I didn’t miss it.”