Right Imperfections |✔ [Book 1 of Runaway Bride Series]

Sneak Peek: Faking Royalty

Chapter 1: Royal Lies

The night was cold and windy. The ride to the hilltop on a horse had been a stupid idea, but when you have money, why not show it, right?

The Kerringtons fell short on nothing for their Thanksgiving period ball. They went all out, from the castle on a hilltop in Scotland to the arrivals of guests in carriages and horse back, to even hiring a guy with the loudest voice Marcus Shaw had ever heard, to be the announcer of names of all the guests. He went ahead and called them Sir and Lady and what not. Marcus rolled his eyes as he handed over his coat to a petite blonde in a traditional maid's outfit. He didn't miss the seductive look she gave him, he also didn't bother reciprocating it. A ball was not why he'd flown all the way from New York. A business meeting, that's all this was supposed to be, or at least he'd thought so.

"You're a good looking man, Shaw. I want you to come to my Thanksgiving party this weekend," Matthew Kerrington had said amiably. Marcus had thought it was going to be just an elaborate dinner and nothing more. Needless to say his expectations had been surpassed to the nth degree. Who the fuck threw balls in this generation anyway? Also, wasn't Thanksgiving all about family and cheer?

Oh yeah?

Marcus shook his head to rid himself of the annoying voice at the back of his head. This was an important deal, his mother understood. Or at least she would eventually.

He sighed heavily as the announcer shouted, "Sir Marcus Benedict Shaw," to literally no one in particular. But heads turned as he walked down the grand staircase, and whispers and murmurs went around the room like rapidly spreading fire.

Marcus was always aware of the attention he'd receive whenever he was in public. He'd learnt to get over it. His wealth and extreme good looks were no news to him, and he knew just how to use both of those blessings when they deemed useful. Tonight for example, he was aware that Matthew wanted him dance with his daughter, Lianne Kerrington. And Marcus didn't mind as long as it got him his deal.

He continued to ignore all the attention he was getting and stopped only when he saw a waiter with a tray with drinks. He picked up a glass that had light pink liquid in it.

Bollinger, the poison of the rich.

He sipped the fruity drink, his eyes searching for the salt and pepper head that had invited him here, but his eyes stopped their search when they landed on a particular blonde, the blonde. The hearty sip of alcohol he'd taken lodged itself in his throat as he took in the beauty.

Long, shiny blonde curls fell over dainty, pale shoulders that were bare to the chilly night. Startling blue eyes and plump smiling pink lips stole him of his breath and clearly his sanity too, as he felt himself approach the gorgeous woman, moving languidly to the soft beat of the music around him. Like a spell had been placed on him. He hadn't been able to see her lower body over the crowd but now that he was closer, he was also positively aroused.

Ample breasts were pushed together and held tightly in the corset she was wearing. Her gown, which was light blue in color with very slight pink accents on the ample skirt, was narrow at her slim hips and flared almost outrageously around it. The top was bejeweled with shiny crystals, and honestly, Marcus wouldn't be too surprised if they were real diamonds. The patrons at this party were that rich.

Lianne Kerrington was beautiful. The world knew that, but no pictures did her any justice. Marcus suddenly didn't mind the ball so much.

Just as he was about to approach her, a hand on his shoulder stopped him and he silently thanked God for the intrusion because he didn't know what he was going to say to her.