Royal Games (Dating Games Book 5)

by T. K. Leigh

  “We’re here, sir,” Creed says, saving me from having to explain all this to Nora. He steps out of the SUV and runs around to open the rear door. I slide out first, then extend my hand to Nora, helping her.

  “Where are we?” She surveys the industrial-looking parking lot, rows and rows of prop cars filling the spots, ranging from antique Model A’s to more modern muscle cars, and everything in between.

  “Picking up our transportation for the next part of the evening.”

  “Transportation?” She looks back at the SUV. “But I thought—”

  “Figured you might like to go for a little drive.” I gesture toward a light blue 1954 Chevy Bel-Air convertible Creed procured for the evening. While I hate throwing my title around, sometimes it does have its benefits. Like now, when I see the excitement brimming in Nora’s expression.

  “We’re going for a drive in that?” she exclaims, bouncing on her feet.

  “We sure are.”

  I’d seen her admiring all the vintage cars along Route 66 and thought this would be the perfect way to end our adventure together. Plus, I’ve always wanted to drive one.

  I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her toward it, helping her onto the front bench seat. Once she’s situated, I walk around to the driver’s side and give Creed a wave. He returns a slight salute, then drives off.

  “He’s leaving?” Nora asks when I slide behind the wheel.

  “Under extreme protest, but yes. It’s our last night. I don’t want to share it with anyone.” Edging toward her, I capture her mouth in a soft kiss.

  As much as I crave our soul-crushing kisses as we devour each other, hungry for more, I love these simple ones, too. The light touch of our mouths as we breathe into each other feels more intimate, exposing our vulnerabilities.

  Pulling back, I turn the key in the ignition and the engine roars. We both grin like giddy teenagers who are about to go on their first date without a chaperone. In a sense, it kind of is for me. All throughout my life, I’ve always been flanked by some kind of security. They may not be right beside me, but they’re still close, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Creed normally would have insisted he follow and remain nearby, but I begged him for this one taste of freedom before it all ends.

  The temperature is perfect for an evening drive with the top down as I navigate toward our final destination. Neither one of us speaks, simply enjoying the moment and the scenery of Los Angeles at night. Our last night together.

  When I slow the car and pull up to a bolted chain-link fence twenty minutes later, Nora passes me a mischievous look.

  “Trying to get me to scale another fence?” she jokes. “I’m definitely not dressed for that.” She gestures to her dress-clad body.

  “No scaling fences tonight.” I reach into my pocket. “This time, I have a key.” I dangle it in front of her, then hop out of the car and head toward the fence, unlocking the chain securing it. After opening the gate, I get back behind the wheel, driving the car inside before locking the gate behind us.

  “Should I be worried that you’re locking me…” She waves her hand around, “wherever we are.”

  “Dammit. You’ve discovered my master plan.” I chuckle, easing down the gas, driving at a slow speed along the dimly lit pathway. “Abduct you to a field in the middle of nowhere and have my way with you.” I waggle my brows. “But as enticing as that sounds, I opted for something else instead.” I grin as we round the corner and a large, drive-in movie screen comes into view.

  She gasps, a hand flying to her mouth. Throughout our journey, she’d kept mentioning how she wished we could actually watch a movie at a drive-in. It never worked out. While we visited plenty of rundown drive-ins along the route, there were never any functioning theaters near where we stopped for the night. I’m grateful I could finally give this to her.

  “A real drive-in?”

  “A real drive-in,” I confirm. “I did have to bribe them to reopen. They’d closed for the season after Labor Day, but I persuaded them to let us rent it out.”

  I park in the center of the darkened dirt field, the only light coming off the screen and the moon shining overhead. The screen flickers, and I turn to the correct FM radio station just as the opening credits play.

  “An Affair to Remember?” Nora says in awe, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Thought you’d enjoy it.”

  She unbuckles her seat belt and slides over the bench seat into my outstretched arm. “It’s perfect.” She tilts her head back to meet my gaze. “The perfect end to this journey.”

  I brush my lips against hers, our kiss soft at first before I clutch her face in my hands and deepen the exchange, telling her with my body everything words can never relay.

  Will this be the last time I hold her like this as we watch Nicki Ferrante and Terry McKay meet for the first time? The last time I squeeze her tighter when Terry excitedly crosses the street to meet Nicki at the top of the Empire State Building after their six-month separation, only to be struck by a car? The last time I kiss her when Nicki discovers the true reason Terry never showed up that night?

  But I can’t focus on that, as difficult as it may be. Nora and I made a pledge to only think about the present, to live in the moment. So instead of dreading what tomorrow will bring, I stay in the moment with Nora.

  It’s the only place I want to be.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Anderson

  In my twenties, I used to see my share of sunrises, usually because I hadn’t yet gone to bed. I never thought much of them, other than it being a sign that it’s time to stop drinking.

  But now, as I watch the glow slowly filter into the bedroom, I know this is one sunrise I’ll never forget. There’s a quiet solitude when it’s no longer night but still not quite morning. It’s in this place that I want to keep Nora. Last night is over, but the day when we must say goodbye, when she’ll learn the truth, is not quite upon us. We’re still us. Still here. Still together.

  “You okay?” Nora’s husky voice cuts through, as if able to sense my turmoil.

  All day yesterday, I put on a smile, acted as if I wasn’t hours away from losing everything, all because of something I didn’t even know about until a week ago. A part of me wishes Creed had never told me. But where would that leave Nora? She blames herself. I refuse to allow her to do that, not when I hold the key to finally setting her free.

  I push her onto her back, meeting her eyes so she can see the truth in my words.

  “No. I’m not.”

  Her chin quivers as she runs her fingers through my hair. She pulls my lips toward hers.

  “We’ll find a way.” Her breath warms my mouth, the contact light and soft at first. “We’ll find a way,” she repeats as she drags my body closer, deepening the exchange.

  I lose myself in the hypnotic spell she casts over me, not able to form the words to tell her there is no way. I can’t say them. It would make it real. I just want to pretend for a little while longer.

  A vice squeezing my heart to the point of agony, I do the only thing that’s erased the pain these past few days. Moving my hand down her frame, I clutch her hip and roll onto my back, yanking her on top of me. Her lips never leave mine, her hair framing our faces, enclosing us in a cocoon. In this moment, the outside world doesn’t exist. The day is not on the verge of dawning. My heart isn’t on the brink of shattering.

  She circles her hips against me, her warmth causing an ache to stir low in my stomach.

  “One more time,” I murmur against her.

  Any other time, she’d joke that I was a fiend or that I’d told her one more time a half-dozen times ago. But she knows this really is our last opportunity. The end of our road.

  “One more time,” she repeats, lifting herself before gradually lowering back onto me, taking every inch of me inside her.

  We close our eyes, neither one of us moving, reveling in this sensation of fullness. Of being one. Of being complete. />
  I fear I’ll never have this again. Never find this again. And maybe that’s the penance I deserve to pay for my sins. To have a taste of heaven, then wander the flames of hell.

  I delicately pulse against her, urging her to move with the rhythm I set. Her gaze trained on me, she covers my body with hers. I move my hands from her hips to her face, keeping her locked in place as I say goodbye the only way I can.

  With my body.

  With my heart.

  With my love.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Nora

  The glittering skyline of Manhattan at dusk comes into view below me as I lean against the window of the airplane. It seems like it was yesterday when I’d boarded a plane and set off on my mission to say goodbye to Hunter. I never expected to not only have to let go of Hunter, but also to have found someone who fills me with hope.

  “Happy to almost be home?” Anderson asks from beside me in the jet.

  I pull my eyes toward his, forcing a smile. “I am,” I barely squeak out through the ache in my throat.

  “We’re about five minutes from wheels down,” the pilot comes on the intercom. “Please stay seated for the remainder of the flight.”

  An attendant appears in the aisle. “Is there anything else I can get you two before we land?” she asks in an accent similar to Creed’s — British with a barely discernible French inflection on certain syllables.

  “No, thank you,” Anderson answers with authority, reaching for the straps of his seat belt and securing it. He looks to me. “Do you need anything?”

  I shake my head.

  “We’ll be on the ground shortly. Captain has scheduled a half-hour to refuel before taking off again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Certainly, Your Highness.” With a smile, she turns from us, disappearing from the passenger cabin, leaving us alone with Creed, who sits toward the front, his head buried in a file, while we remain in the rear.

  I steal a glance at Anderson, his hands gripping the armrests at his side, a nervousness about him. Normally, I’d assume he was scared of flying, but I know he’s not. He told me he loves to fly, that he has his pilot’s license. Something else must have him in knots. Could it be our impending departure? But why would he be nervous about that? Depressed or somber, sure. But nervous?

  Before I can ask him about it, the plane jostles us, the wheels hitting the ground at a high rate of speed. The engines roar as the flaps come up on the wings, causing the plane to slow to a crawl toward the end of the runway.

  “Welcome to New York,” the flight attendant says over the intercom. “And welcome home, Ms. Tremblay.”

  I look out the window as the airplane taxies, the silhouette of New York City rising in the distance. I’ve lived in Manhattan since I lost Hunter. But now, as I look at the familiar buildings that have always beckoned me home, it no longer feels like home.

  Home is a dingy motel room.

  Home is a rundown gas station.

  Home is a Jeep Wrangler.

  Home is Anderson North.

  The plane jerks to a stop, and a flurry of activity commences as the flight attendants unlock the cabin door, lowering the steps. I unlatch my seat belt and am about to stand when Anderson grasps my hand, squeezing it.

  “Wait.”

  I nod, watching as the flight crew and Creed exit the cabin. Once we’re alone, Anderson clutches my cheeks with a desperate grip, his mouth covering mine in a soul-crushing, impassioned kiss. The way he holds me, the way he breathes into me, the way he devours me makes me feel like this is the last time he ever will.

  But I don’t want that.

  I want a thousand more kisses. A thousand more touches. A thousand more sunrises.

  A thousand more adventures.

  He pulls away, the sound of our frantic breathing filling the luxurious cabin.

  “There’s so much I want to say,” he pants, hands still framing my face. I swallow hard, tears welling in my eyes when I see his are glassed over. “The past several hours, I’ve tried to formulate my thoughts.” Licking his lips, he shakes his head. “Tried to think of the best way to say this, but no matter what words I conjure, it doesn’t seem enough.”

  “I know how you feel,” I admit with a quiver.

  This isn’t just a fling. This was never just a fling. Our souls are intertwined. Some higher power saw fit to bring us into each other’s lives. I’ve never been as sure of anything in my life as I am that we belong together. That after all the heartbreak and loss we’ve suffered, we deserve each other.

  We deserve to be happy.

  On a long inhale, Anderson reluctantly drops his hold on me and reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a narrow, black velvet box, a red ribbon wrapped around it. He peers at it for several long moments, as if contemplating what to do. Then he hands it to me.

  “This is yours.”

  His statement catches me off guard, something about the forlorn expression he wears making me think it’s not just your run-of-the mill necklace or bracelet.

  My pulse steadily increases as I tug on the bow and crack open the box. The instant my eyes land on the contents, I gasp, barely able to see through the kaleidoscope of tears. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to stop my chin from trembling, carefully removing the simple silver chain and diamond ring.

  “Where did you find this?” I breathe, unable to believe I’m finally holding it. I can’t fathom what Anderson had to do to not only locate this, but then get it sent to him. “For years, I’ve searched in every pawn shop in the Tri-State area. Even called all the diamond dealers and asked them to keep an eye out for the serial number on the stone, but nothing ever turned up.”

  I bring the ring closer, able to make out the faint inscription. My favorite wrong number.

  “How did you—”

  “It’s been in my possession over six years,” he says solemnly, squeezing his eyes shut.

  I furrow my brow and straighten my spine, not understanding how that could be possible. Then it hits me. I never told him about this necklace. There’s only one way he would know about it.

  “I meant to give it to the paramedics.” He gradually lifts his gaze to meet mine. “But everything happened so fast and—”

  “What are you saying?” Heat washes over me, my heart thundering. My grip on the ring tightens, knuckles turning white.

  “I was there that night,” he admits after a pause. “I was the one who pulled you from that wreck.”

  I inhale a sharp breath, struggling to process this. For years, I’d searched for any clue about who my mystery Good Samaritan was. But the police had no way of finding out his identity. Hunter’s parents had even put out a reward, hoping they could thank the person who’d helped me.

  “You saved my life,” I exhale, running my fingers over the diamond.

  He slowly shakes his head, pure anguish covering his expression. His eyes are pinched, muscles strained, lips tight. “No, I didn’t.”

  “But you said—”

  “I’m the reason Hunter died.”

  “You tried to save him.” I grab his hands in mine, knowing all too well what he’s going through. “You did something so incredibly selfless, something most people wouldn’t. You put yourself in harm’s way to pull me from that car. You could have waited for the paramedics to arrive, but you didn’t. You saw that time wasn’t on our side and you acted.” I touch my hand to his face. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

  “No, Nora. Please,” he begs, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks to the ceiling, swallowing a pained breath, before returning his attention to me. The seconds stretch as I await his next words. But nothing could have prepared me for them. “It’s my fault he lost control of the car in the first place.”

  His statement sucks the air from my lungs, and I straighten, withdrawing my hands from him and setting them in my lap. I blink, attempting to make sense out of his statement, but it doesn’t s
eem to register in my brain. I heard it. I know what each individual word means. But strung together like that? I can’t wrap my head around it.

  “That crash was the same night Kendall died,” he continues when I remain silent. “I still can’t remember much. I was driving from the hospital and toward our hotel in North Harbor, convinced it was a terrible dream and I’d walk into the room to find her there. But as I drove, I had this blinding headache. The pain was excruciating. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My body was frozen, this weird pins-and-needles sensation crawling over my skin. Then I heard this loud bang and slammed on my brakes. Thought maybe something happened to my car. When I saw smoke billowing in my rearview mirror, I ran to help.”

  He hangs his head, digging his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. “I’ve done everything to put the pieces of that night together, but I can’t. It’s all a blur. All I know is that I swerved into the wrong lane and forced your car off the road.”

  His confession hangs heavy in the air as I stare into space for what feels like an eternity, but is only a matter of seconds. Not saying a word, I gingerly stand and brush past him. I walk a few feet up the narrow aisle, surrounded by money and luxury. The same things that probably allowed Anderson to keep his involvement in this hidden for years. The police said there was no evidence of foul play, that Hunter had probably swerved to avoid hitting a deer, as was often the case in that area. I never could have imagined he’d swerved and lost control of his car because of another reason.

  “When did you figure out who I was?” I face him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Did you know from the beginning?”

  He jumps to his feet. “No. I had no idea. Hell, in my nightmares about pulling you from the crash, your name was Laura. Not Nora. I’m not lying when I say I have absolutely no memory of ever swerving. I don’t. If I did…”

  “What? You wouldn’t have fucked me?” My voice rises in pitch.