My Fiance, The Playboy Prince

Chapter Two: Le Zéro

• Colette Eatton •

"Whaaat?" I utter, flabbergasted. My eyes wide as saucers. Who does this guy think he is? I put my hands on my hips. The Prince of Canberra? And just when I thought that today's going to be a good day. He's still staring at me with that smirk on his face. Ugh. Now the day's ruined.

I look at him with an expression of pure disgust. I can't believe guys like him still exist. Chivalry is long dead. How can he confidently say that? Where's the shame?

Announcing he wants me as if I'm just some toy that can be picked up and thrown away once he's bored with it. What a pig.

This is why there's the whole feminism thing going on in the world right now. It's because of guys like him. Well. Fuck you and your family. After that zero you gave me, I don't see the need for me to treat you nicely anymore. I thought of his comment and I use my wrists to push my bra up.

If he wants to be a douche, he's so doing it to the wrong person. I'll show him who he's up against. I remove one hand from my hips and slam the other on to the table.

I look down at him, "what's your problem? I admit it was wrong of me to call you an asshole and I'm sorry.." I force the word out, "..about that but what do you think you're doing?" As if just by him saying he wants me, I'll instantly swoon and leap into his sexy, toned arms. Dream on.

I eye his arms and force myself to look away. Back to his face, Colette. Look at his face. He's looking up at me from his seat, biting his lips, totally unfazed. To be honest, he looks as if he's trying to hold in his laughter.

What a cocky, arrogant jerk.

Before I could do anything, he stands up and suddenly, the sides of my cheeks are cupped in both of his hands. I'm staring at his shirt, pulled tight against his chest. He's tall. Like really tall. Then again, I'm only 5 foot 3.

From the corner of my eye, I see Courtney approach us slowly, "Ummm. Sir... I apologise but you shouldn't do..." He turns his head towards her and clicks his tongue. He removes one hand from my face, using it to shoo her away. Courtney just stands there, not knowing what to do.

Turning his attention back to me, he gently slides his right hand to my chin, tilting it upwards so that we're facing each other eye to eye.

"I don't know who you think you are, sweetie, but no one talks to the Prince of Canberra that way. I could have you thrown into jail," he whispers, the cocky attitude clear in his voice.

Apparently, he didn't say it quietly enough because Courtney gasps out loud.

I can feel his hot breathe on my lips. He leans in, inching his lips closer to mine. The space between us decreasing by the seconds. I push him away and before I could stop myself, I burst out laughing.

"You?" I raise my eyebrows, pointing at him. "The Prince? Who are you trying to kid?! I am no fool. You don't look anything like him except for your blonde hair and your green eyes.."

I look at him properly, ".. and your lips.. and your nose.." I look down at his body and my voice wavers, "... and your body.."

I hiccup. Oh my god, no. Just, no.

I look at Courtney for reassurance but she's already backing away, her eyes wide open and her hands to her chest.

This has got to be some kind of mistake. This is just some odd and ungodly coincidence. I've heard it before. That in this world, for every person, there are at least seven others who look exactly the same.

Okay, so maybe this jerk just so happens to look like Prince Aspen, so what?

It's just impossible. He can't be the prince. He's so un-princelike...

Not wanting it to be true, I blurt the first thing that came to my head. "Prove it. Do you have some mandarin oranges with you?"

"Woowww. Aren't you just incredibly racist? It's the whole Chinese thing isn't it? Just because you think I was kidnapped by The Chinese, they would give me oranges? What the hell. Mandarin oranges aren't even Chinese. What kind of logic is that?" He looks at me speechless, "Besides, The Chinese aren't even Chinese, they're Mexican," he says exasperatedly.

I furrow my eyebrows. "Stop saying the word Chinese! You're giving me a headache! And if you're a Prince, why do you even talk like that?!"

"Like what?" He questions.

I open my mouth to answer. "Li-.."

I'm interrupted by a loud bang as the door to the cafe opens and a whole bunch of people suddenly push their way in, holding cameras and camcorders. They're pushing one another so roughly, they're scattering the tables and chairs everywhere. The other waitresses try to stop them but they end up getting pushed into the crowd instead.

Huh, I guess I won't need to wipe the crumbs off the tables then. And there goes my bonus too.

"Your Highness!" "Your highness!" "Prince Aspen!" "Look here!" "I thought you were kidnapped!"

The reporters talk over one another. I don't understand anything. I feel so disoriented with all the loud shouting and cameras flashing. It's just all happening so fast, my brain can't process any of it.

Flash, flash, flash. They all just keep on coming. Left, right, all around me.

I use my hands to shield my face. I can't see. It's too blinding. I feel my legs taking backward steps, away from the crowd. My back hits a table.

Without warning, I feel a strong, muscular arm around my waist. The arm pulls me and I find myself in someone's chest. Someone being the asshole.

The flashes and sounds quadrupled. I can hear girls screaming, probably fans of his.

But it hits me. Right there and then, that I've fucked up.

And my body goes cold all over because, oh my god. He really is the prince.

Shit.

♥♥♥

Hi everyone! I was so surprised when I was editing this chapter. It only had 500 words! I was like, "whaat?' But here you go, I've made it longer! And hopefully, it's better. Have a nice day! Also, I'm just wondering but where are you all from? c: