by Violet Paige
Table of Contents
Copyright
TEMPTING THE CROWN
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
Epilogue
RESIST
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
TURN OVER
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
Luke
Alexa
Naughty Notes
BEAUTY AND THE BILLIONAIRE BACHELORS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
Epilogue
Tempting the Crown
Published By Violet Paige
Copyright © 2017 Violet Paige
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.
TEMPTING THE CROWN
1
Damon
The bourbon was watered down. I flicked my wrist, washing it over the melted flecks of ice. I looked around, bored. That was the problem. I bored easily.
A waiter walked by without glancing at my table. That had always been the deal in this fucking place, though. They treated me like every other guy in here. They didn’t cater to one of us over the other. As if we were normal. As if we weren’t rich as sin. As if I didn’t own the entire country.
We existed under a cloak of secrecy. The façade that inside these walls we were on an equal playing field. Maybe there was some truth to that for one night a month. Gala night.
I slung back the last swallow of the hundred-dollar glass of booze. I pushed back from my chair to straighten my cramped legs, standing just shy of six-five. I moved across the room trying not to attract too much attention. It wasn’t easy to blend in, even if people were committed to ignoring me.
I knocked on the black door behind the bar and waited for someone to let me in. The incessant bass pumping through the speakers drowned out the hammering of my fist. It was loud as fuck in here.
“Damn it.” I gritted my teeth, pounding again. I wasn’t patient.
The door cracked enough that I could see a sliver of the stage. It was dark.
A stooge who couldn’t have been more than twenty stood in my way. I tapped at my watch. It probably cost more than ten cars in the parking lot put together. “You’re running late.” I kept my voice low.
He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, your m—”
I put my hand up to stop him. “I have a reservation tonight,” I reminded him.
He looked over his shoulder nervously. “There have been a few setbacks,” he reported.
“Setbacks?” I cocked my eyebrow. When had The Titan had a setback?
“I assure you we’ll start any minute. I can personally escort you.”
I didn’t want to hear his bullshit. I didn’t tolerate excuses no matter the circumstances.
I exhaled. “That won’t be necessary. You have five minutes,” I warned. “Figure it out or I’m leaving. I don’t need to waste my time.”
“I’ll let them know.” He closed the door with a solid shove.
I turned for my table. Ashford Grant was a few feet behind me. He smirked. If I didn’t know better, his tattered jeans and T-shirt suggested he was a man who was out for a round with his buddies.
“I see you escaped for the night.” He tipped a drink toward me.
I scowled. “It’s never easy.”
I glanced over his shoulder at my guards standing by the front entrance. Their arms were crossed. They scanned every guest who walked past. They didn’t give a shit that every person in the club was a member. You couldn’t walk through the front doors without a signed contract. Correction—a hefty deposit and a signed contract.
There were standards for all members.
“You can’t shake those two?” he asked.
“They go where I go.”
“That goes with the territory I guess.”
I needed another drink. I eyed the bartender. He nodded and poured me a second bourbon. He knew which bottle I had selected for the night.
I liked expensive smooth bourbons that took decades to distill. The Titan imported my favorite from the States to keep on hand for nights like this.
“It’s been a few months, hasn’t it?”
“Six,” I answered. “Sutcliffe has been a bastard lately.”
Ashford
laughed. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that shit. I don’t know how you do it.”
Was I supposed to answer? Tell him the burden was suffocating? That sometimes the walls closed in on me? There were days I considered hiding under a ball cap and hopping aboard one of the catamarans in the marina. Sailing the hell out of here. Ashford was one of my oldest friends, but even he wasn’t privy to those thoughts.
“Do you have the tally?” I changed the subject.
Ashford reached in his back pocket, withdrawing a narrow but thick sheet of paper. He handed it to me.
“Not much on there tonight,” he added.
The bartender walked around the edge of the counter, carrying the aged bourbon. “Here you go, sir.” He nodded.
“Thank you.”
I scanned the tally. “Why is the bottom blank?” I looked at my friend.
“Hell if I know,” Ashford huffed. “And they’re late. I’m going to talk to Lesage. He can’t expect us to come back if this is how gala nights are being run.”
I gripped his upper arm firmly. “We’ll just take our investments elsewhere.” I eyed him.
Ashford’s nodded slightly. “It’s a shame. Freychon needed a place like this.”
“I agree. We all needed it. But he’s not up to the task. Come on. My driver can drop you somewhere.”
I was prepared to leave. Admit tonight was a loss. A wasted night, trying to feed my dark habits.
Ashford followed me toward my security guards. The bass lowered and the lights flickered.
“Wait.” I stopped him.
“Want to turn around?”
I handed the tally back to him. “Let’s take a look.” I nodded toward the black door.
“I’m just a loyal follower,” he ribbed.
I silenced him with an icy glare. No one could speak to me with that fucking tone. Friend or not.
2
Molly
Snap. Snap. Fingers clicked inches from my nose.
I blinked.
“Did you hear me, cher?”
The stage manager wore a headset. He blended French and Spanish so frequently it was hard to follow. Although, I learned most citizens of Galona mixed the languages.
I nodded in a fog. “Yes.”
Brooklyn poked me in the ribs. “He’s trying to tell us how it works.”
I realized his purpose, only I couldn’t believe I was going along with this.
“I-I don’t know about this.” I fidgeted in line in front of my best friend.
“Smile and have fun,” she instructed. “This is a once in a lifetime chance. Bucket list, remember?”
I twisted my lips together. “Right. The Galona bucket list.”
The short wiry man had moved on to the girls behind us. I heard his sharp voice instructing them to follow an order of events.
“I don’t think I can do it.” I shook my head. “I’m going to head back to the apartment. Ok?”
Brooklyn caught my shoulders. “No, you’re not. Until tonight I thought this place was an urban legend. But it’s not. It’s real, Molly. You can’t just walk out on this chance. It’s legendary.”
I nodded. “I can. I’ll tear up the contract on my way out.”
She frowned. “I’m not going to let you do that. There is an excellent chance on the other side of that curtain there’s a member of the royal family.” She was getting caught up in her fantasy again. “And you are guaranteed whether he’s royalty or not that he’s going to be a multi-millionaire. An oil tycoon. A wine baron. A celebrity. It’s going to be a celebrity. I just have this feeling.” Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.
I knew mine didn’t look like that. My stomach flipped itself into one more knot. It was not an adrenaline rush. I was on the verge of panic. I sucked air through my nostrils.
“I’m going to be sick. I can’t do it. I have to get out of here.”
I pivoted on my heels and bolted for the back exit, but ran square into the tiny man with the headset. I heard someone call him Luc. Nametags probably weren’t permitted in a place that existed on its secrecy.
“No, no, cherie. This way.” He jerked me back to the line and shoved me forward.
Brooklyn giggled. “It’s going to be awesome. I promise. It’s guaranteed.”
“I-I changed my mind,” I tried to explain. “You’re going to have to do it without me.”
But it was too late. The line had lurched forward, carrying me with it. Two more steps and I was on stage.
I squinted as the spotlight smacked me in the face.
“Smile,” Brooklyn whispered behind me, prodding me forward. “Look natural. And blink, damn it.”
My feet felt clunky and unbalanced as I inched across the stage. I didn’t know whether to meet the audience head on or pretend they weren’t there. I dared a glance, but the lights were too bright. The faces were dark, blanketed in splotchy shadows.
I followed the brunette in front of me. Her hair was styled with tight ringlets that bounced when she walked. They weren’t the only thing bouncing. She was practically falling out of her top. I guessed she was using dress tape to keep herself tucked in. I knew my outfit didn’t wow the audience. A fitted denim skirt, topped by a soft white T-shirt. Brooklyn said it looked sweet, but I knew she wanted me to change. I stood next to the brunette as we formed a single row against the curtain.
Brooklyn whispered in my ear. “We’re actually doing this. We’re in The Titan.”
I wished I had some of her giddiness instead of the nausea that attacked me in prickly waves. My palms were sticky.
“Please examine your tallies,” the MC instructed. “The gala has begun.” He wacked a gavel on a marble pedestal, announcing the beginning of my nightmare.
My shoulders jerked at the startling sound. I swallowed softly.
“I would like to invite our participants to await their tally number before returning.” His accent was thick. I couldn’t place it. He might not have been a native Galonian.
I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. Why did I care where he was from? Why was I trying to study dialect as if I had a linguistics degree? I was going to be paraded in front of the audience a second time, only this time it would be alone. I had to walk without shaking. Without my ankles buckling. Without puking on the polished floor. That’s what I should focus on.
“Molly, let’s go.” Brooklyn kicked me with a slight tap of her hip and I turned for the doorway.
As soon as we were backstage I exhaled and bent forward, gripping my knees.
“Did you see anyone?” she asked. “Maybe one of the princes? I heard there might be a director here. Did you recognize any of them?”
I shook my head. “The lights were too bright.” I looked up. “How did you hear about a director?” I hadn’t seen her speak to anyone else. As soon as we arrived we were ushered into a room where someone explained the contents of the non-disclosure contract we were required to sign.
We also had the option of getting our hair and makeup touched up and a complimentary glass of champagne, but only one. I wished I had accepted it. Drinking beyond that was prohibited.
She shrugged. “One of the girls in the back said they’re shooting a movie in Harwina. It’s a possibility.”
“That’s an hour from here.” Talking helped. Concentrating on facts. Miles between cities. Those things cleared my head. I tried to picture the road from Freychon to Harwina. I had been there once.
“But this is The Titan.” She beamed. “It’s legendary.”
“Right. Legendary,” I whispered.
“Cherie, cherie, it is time.”
“Oh no. No. No. No.” I shook my head.
I was surprised at how strong he was for having such a slight build. Within seconds he had nudged me forward and the spotlight landed on my feet.
“Tally seven-seven-seven.” The MC’s voice rang clear as he announced my number.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. There was a hand on the small of my back as I was t
hrust on stage.
The MC cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”
It started rapidly.
I tried to follow the voices as they called out, but in the pit of darkness it was impossible. Some sounded older than others. I even heard an American or two mixed in. I squinted, feeling my heart race. I tried to ground myself. I tried to breathe.
I tried to pretend that auctioning myself off for a night to Galona’s secret society was exactly what I wanted to do.
3
Damon
“That is the one,” Ashford suggested, pointing to the next number on his ticket. It was creased down the middle. I don’t know why he folded it in his pocket rather than just leaving it on the table in between tenders. “Your type. I can tell.”
I was impatient. Tonight’s tally wasn’t impressive. None of them held my attention. They were all the same. Cleavage. Poufy hair. More makeup than a cover model. At this point I didn’t know what would hold my attention. Why had I thought another gala would give me something? Push me? Excite me? Clearly a six-month break hadn’t awakened a renewed interest.
“I don’t have a type.” I strummed my fingers on the table.
“That could change after tonight.”
“I didn’t see her,” I admitted. Nothing stood out in the first-round viewing. Evidently he was referring to seven-seven-seven.
“Invest,” he coaxed.
“I have invested plenty in this country,” I snapped.
Ashford’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Fine. Then I’ll invest.”
I picked up my bourbon. Malcom Caron continued with his description of the next tally. I listened indifferently. I didn’t care where she was from or what her favorite movie was. Ashford could have her. He could have all of them. It had taken too long to get to this point. Tonight’s gala was a complete fuck up. I may have stopped Ashford from saying something to Lesage, but I’d ring him tomorrow. This was a waste of a million-dollar membership.
I slapped Ash on the shoulder. “Have a good night. Hope your tender goes well.”
“You’re not staying?” he whispered.
“What’s the point?”
I could fuck any beautiful girl I wanted. I didn’t need a damn cat and mouse game to give me a hard-on. Fuck this.
I pushed to stand when seven-seven-seven walked on stage.
My eyes followed the spotlight by complete fucking accident. I had every intention of leaving. Of taking my security detail, grabbing the last of the bottle of bourbon from behind the bar, and sleeping alone tonight.
But then she walked on stage.
