Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Xavier’s full attention is mine as more bitter laughter flows from my chest.

  “He'd leave me with my best friend Natalie and her family and disappear for days, for weeks. And then he'd come back, more depressed than ever. He would fail. But a few weeks later, he'd put on the tie and leave again, still chasing that dream. Always chasing that dream."

  I pause and take a sip. Xavier stays silent, looking guilt.

  “Maybe that should have been my clue that following my dreams of owning a business was a waste of time but I guess I’m too optimistic for my own good. Because dad always looked so busy, so important. And I…I wanted to be important too. I wanted that so badly…The world has done nothing but show me how unimportant I am. I guess the little girl inside me still just wants to prove that isn’t true.” By now, my voice is a whisper, laden with embarrassment at my silly aspirations but carrying my determination and my conviction anyway.

  Xavier comes closer. He reaches over and wipes his thumb along my cheek as he listens intently, wordlessly. I keep talking, if only to distract myself from the rush of him touching me like this.

  “I worked like crazy over the past few years. Holding down a job while trying to pay tuition at the local community college. I put my one hundred percent into it because I've wanted it since I was a little girl." I give him a hard look and jerk away from his touch. "And you had it handed to you. You had Oxford University handed to you. And you pissed it away?” I laugh bitterly as I confess in a quiet voice. “I’m trying really hard not to resent you right now…And I don't think it's working."

  He lowers his face. He’s so close it’s making me dizzy. “Sadie. I had no idea..."

  I shake my head with a wistful smile and slide my back along the edge of the counter to break free of his intense energy. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” I stroll over to the table and take the seat across from his abandoned chair. “I just hate that you don't appreciate how lucky you are."

  Now, he’s sitting across from me, looking deep in thought. He pauses. “I can't imagine how you manage…Y’know, school and work and life.”

  My shoulder rises and falls helplessly. “Well, I've never qualified for scholarships.” My finger circles the rim of my cup. “I’ve applied for every one I've ever heard of. My grades just aren't strong enough. Going to work while you’re in school makes it hard to keep your grades up, especially when you don’t have anyone in your corner, pushing you, encouraging you to make them proud.”

  I don’t know where all these confessions are coming from. I usually don’t get so damn deep in my feelings. It’s kind of pathetic and I don’t do ‘weak’. I think I just want to get him to realize how lucky he is. I mean, he’s a freaking prince. How many people can actually say that?

  "That's fucked up." With his finger under my chin, he lifts my face so our eyes connect.

  Now, I’m lost in his eyes, hostage to the dark, intense stare. I don’t think I want to get out. My vision begins to blur and my lashes grow heavy. I run a knuckle along the line of my bottom lashes and sniffle.

  “In any case, I’m taking the semester off. I missed the deadline for tuition because the day before the deadline…an emergency came up and I ended up spending the money on something else.” I’m deliberately vague because whenever I think of what that ‘something’ was, I get so damn mad. So, I choose to block it out. I’ve already shared too much, gotten way too personal with this guy. “Why am I even telling you this?” I whisper.

  "Sadie..." He doesn't know what to say. It's written all over his face. He's giving me a pleading, apologetic look.

  I need to be done with this conversation so I don’t break down in tears right this minute.

  I down the rest of my juice and stand from the table. “It’s so damn hot. I need to go take a shower before I melt completely.”

  Xavier reaches out and his fingers curl around my bicep. He’s standing in front of me now. “Sadie, please. I'm sorry." His voice is so soft, his eyes are completely remorseful. He's sorry.

  I give him as much of a smile as I can manage. "It's okay," I tell him. "You don't have to apologize for who you are, Prince Charming.” It's not his fault that he's a pretty, pretty rich boy who's never had to work hard for anything in his life.

  I don’t think he’s listening to what I’m saying, though. His attention is fixed so intently on my lips that I don’t think he’s aware of anything in this room aside from my mouth.

  He’s gonna kiss me.

  This man is gonna kiss me and I’m gonna die.

  But he doesn’t. He takes an unsteady step back and his eyes dart back to mine, blinking a few times.

  The gravely tone of his words hits me straight in the stomach. “Let me help you…,” he tells me. “I can help you."

  My body stiffens defensively. Is he offering what I think he’s offering? This guy is unbelievable.”

  I laugh dryly because he just doesn't get it. "Thank you for the offer but I don't need a hand-out, Xavier. I need respect. Belittling my dream wins you zero brownie points in my book." I watch his face fall at my words. “Please lock the door after you when you leave.”

  I leave him standing there in the kitchen, looking dejected as I pad down the hallway and fill the bathtub to the brim. I stay and soak in the water until he’s gone because there’s no point in continuing to talk to him, in allowing a friendship to form.

  He’s a prince and I’m…me. We come from two different worlds in every sense of the word.

  7

  xavier

  There’s a mural on the ceiling of Ethel’s bedroom. I think it’s supposed to be a copycat of Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel. Except the angels are all naked. And they have huge balls. I mean, huge. Whoever painted this was obviously a fan of the male scrotum.

  And I’m not one to judge people and their preferences, really. Different strokes for different folks. But ceiling-gazing is an insomniac’s favorite pastime. However when said ceiling is covered in balls the size of dinner plates, the gazing can feel a little uncomfortable.

  So now, I’m pacing. Pacing the hall from one end to the next. Digging my fingers through my hair. Cursing myself under my breath. The pained look in Sadie's eyes has stayed in my mind all night. That look of wanting something so bad and knowing you can't have it.

  I understand the feeling because that's how badly I want her. I want her in so many ways. I want to see her smiling. I want to see the curve of her elegant neck as she throws her head back and laughs. I want to drag my teeth along her skin as I fuck her and watch her face twisting with pleasure.

  Instead, I caused her pain. I made her cry. Fuck!

  She's such a brave girl. She tried to fight it, but I saw that single tear as it emerged at the corner of her eye. I saw the contraction of her throat as she swallowed back that lump of hurt.

  I'm a bloody idiot.

  She was right about everything. I've been pampered, catered to my whole life. There isn’t one physical possession I've ever wanted that I couldn't have. But love...kindness...friendship. Those are things I’ve been living without.

  When my father got caught cheating for the umpteenth time, my mother left the palace and never looked back. Meanwhile, the bastard philanderer was busy living the life of a Bachelor candidate. Half the time he doesn't even remember I exist. I honestly can’t remember the last time I spoke with him. As for my grandmother, she's essentially an ice block in a really pretty dress.

  Sadie is the first person I’ve connected with in a long time. At least since the accident. She’s real with me. She calls me on my bullshit. She isn’t afraid to speak her mind. Plus, she's fun. A wild spirit.

  And what did I do? I wounded her.

  It seems to be a pattern. The minute someone lets down their guard with me, the minute they start to trust me, I find a way to hurt them. That's why even my trouser-shitting rugrat sister would be a better choice to rule the nation of Ridgeland than I would. Seriously, how long would it take me to
burn that kingdom down to the ground if left to my own devices?

  But Sadie...fuck...

  I have to make this right. I have to make things better with her. Because even though she's all kinds of crazy and even though I can't stop imagining all the forbidden things I'll never be able to do to her body, I don't want to be just another tosser who hurt her feelings without giving it a second thought. I don't want to be yet another reason she doubts herself.

  I suck in a deep breath and snatch my phone from the bedside table. I punch in a string of numbers I know by heart.

  There's an answer on the second ring. "This is the office of His Royal Highness Prince Xavier George Andrew Henry Cambridge of Ridgeland."

  I huff through my nose. Good old Thomas, as stiff and formal as always. "Thomas—it's me."

  "Sir? Prince Xavier?" I hear the shock in his voice. And then the relief. "Is that you?"

  "Yes, Thomas."

  "Sir—I've been worried sick.” As chatty as always, my personal secretary wastes no time catching me up on all I’ve been missing out on at the palace. “Lady Yolanda is very unhappy because she went ahead and ordered those feathers from Geneva for her headpiece and you still haven't confirmed whether you'll be attending the Brown-Bottom Geese ceremony together. And that little old American woman you left behind, she’s just been annoying the snot out of all the servants with her diva demands. It’s like she thinks she’s a Kardashian. As for the Queen—oh boy, are you in trouble. I've never seen her this upse—"

  I interrupt him. "Thomas, Thomas. I didn't call you about any of that."

  Long pause. "Oh?"

  A one-syllable utterance from my secretary. That's a first.

  Well, his jaw is going to drop when he hears the request I have for him. “What do you know about embezzlement? Money laundering? Concealing the source of funds?"

  Sounds of stuttering hesitation pour from his throat. "U-um..."

  “I need a large sum of money. Fast. And I need to cover up where it came from."

  Thomas’s hesitation quickly morphs into fear. "S-sir—I'm not sure what you're asking me to do..."

  I snicker to myself. I enjoy fucking with him. Sometimes, it's the highlight of my day. Especially on days like today when I’ve put my foot so far down my throat I may never see it again.

  The secretary is still fumbling with his words. "Is...? How...? Are you in trouble, Your Highness?"

  Am I in trouble? Yes, I am. I'm falling head over heels for a girl I should leave alone. But I've put a frown on her face. I've made her cry. And now, I'll do what I must to make it right.

  “I need you to set up a charity, Thomas. An education foundation. Drop whatever you’re doing and see to it now.”

  8

  Sadie

  Xavier’s words from the other night tumble about in my head as I lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling. I'm not a freaking softie who deliberately misinterprets the things people say and takes everything personally. I know he wasn’t trying to be insensitive when he made those comments about business school being a useless waste of time. I also know he felt bad when he realized he'd hurt me.

  Truthfully, it's not his words that have me all caught up in my feelings even all these days later. It’s just that life is unfair. I'd freeze my ovum and sell them by the dozen to be enrolled in school right now. Meanwhile, cash isn't an issue for Xavier and he has the influence to get into virtually any program he chooses. Yet he squandered his opportunities and took his good fortune for granted.

  It’s not his fault. It just is what it is. Different people have different priorities. And maybe I was a bit of a bitch with the things I said to him and the way I stormed off. I was just overwhelmed with the resentment I was feeling and I reacted immaturely.

  At the end of the day, our disagreement was just a blatant reminder that he and I aren't from the same world and we're at different places in our lives. Getting lost in my silly crush on him won't do me any good in the long haul. In two and a half months, he'll be gone. So it's best if I just bury whatever it is I'm starting to feel for him and keep focused on my goals.

  I roll over in my scratchy sheets and stare at the clock. "It's way too early for heavy introspection, Sadie," I grumble as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and my feet touch the floor.

  Still groggy, I take a good, long stretch and trudge into the kitchen. As soon as I get the coffee maker going, I hear a knock at the door.

  I'm not the type of girl who typically has guests before dawn. I approach cautiously, not knowing what I'll find waiting for me on the other side of the door.

  Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I swing the door open and find him there, leaning on the doorjamb. Just one look at that smug, handsome face and all the feelings I thought my body had gotten under control come swooping back in—longing, nervousness, resentment, excitement. That's the effect he has on me.

  There's no way to be discreet about it as I run my knuckles over the edge of my mouth to perform a drool-check. Talk about catching a girl off-guard.

  He doesn't seem to notice, though. He smirks and stretches an empty coffee mug my way. "Morning, good-looking." The gravelly base of his voice vibrates my lady parts. "I'm here to borrow the proverbial cup of sugar."

  I try recalling the positioning of the tiny tears in my washed-out tank top. If my memory serves me, my areolas are probably playing peekaboo with my unexpected visitor again as we speak. I quickly fold my arms across my chest. "The proverbial cup of sugar is gifted between neighbors. You're not my neighbor. You're my landlord so if you want sugar, it's coming out of my rent."

  One thick eyebrow scales up his forehead and his lips twist devilishly. “That sounds an awful lot like a proposition, Miss Nichols."

  The flush blossoming on my cheeks puts a major dent in my game face but I maintain my tough-girl expression anyway. My voice comes out way too breathy. “Oh, does it?"

  "It does." He grins, leans in closer and lowers his voice. "And think I like it."

  At that, a high-pitched, hiccuppy giggle bursts out of my mouth. “You’re so cheesy, Xavier.”

  Barefoot, sleep-faced and decked-out in my finest sleepware, I think I'm flirting with my landlord. What's wrong with me?

  All he has to do is flash his pearly white smile and I forget how only minutes ago, I promised myself I'd stop getting all tripped up over him. Haven't I learned my lesson?

  He's standing there in my doorway, all rumpled and delicious, acting like our last conversation never happened.

  Fine.

  I can play that game, too. All while keeping him at a safe distance.

  I snatch the cup from his hands. "I'll go get your damn sugar." I pivot on my toes toward the kitchen.

  As I'm turning away, Xavier’s fingers close gently but urgently around my wrist. His eyes lock on mine and his brash smile melts completely, his expression growing earnest. His Adam's apple heaves when he swallows. "Sorry..."

  It's one word. One simple word. But it reaches around my heart and squeezes.

  “I’m really sorry about the other night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was a complete wanker. I insulted you.”

  My chest expands on a breath. “You did insult me," I affirm, a tingling sensation unexpectedly coming alive in my throat.

  His expression grows sad and pitiful like a puppy dog who's been a bad, bad boy. "I'm not too bright, Sadie darling...Rich? Yes...Good-looking? Definitely...But not too bright. I am living, breathing, muscle-bound proof that a man can't have it all..."

  I roll my eyes even as I feel a hint of a smile on my lips. "Seriously? This is your idea of an apology?"

  A bit of the tension loosens from his shoulders. "Yes." He returns my grin. Perfect, white teeth flash again and my knees go loose. My balance wavers.

  "Wow," is all I can manage to say.

  "I'm an arse. I'll admit it." He continues pandering to me.

  "Yes, you are an arse."

  Another grin. "Y'see—I'm self-aware."


  "Do you plan on changing then?" I fold my arms tighter across my chest and inadvertently squish my tits together. Xavier's eyes flit there instantly. They linger and I feel my nipples harden.

  He licks his lips, eyes still focused on my chest. "No, why would I do that?"

  I dip my head to get his attention back on my face. "Because there's no point in being self-aware if you aren't going to use that knowledge to better yourself."

  His eyes meet mine again and he winks. "Just kidding, darling." He clasps both hands in front of him as if he’s praying. "What I'm trying so ineptly to say is, forgive me. I'm an idiot and I recognize that I have a lot to learn…but I'm sorry. And I like being your friend.”

  “My friend?” Shock is surely written all over my face.

  “I'm your friend, aren't I?” A lock of his hair falls out of place and for a split second, he looks incredibly vulnerable, like my answer genuinely means the world to him. Then in a snap, the smirk is right back in place. "It's kind of lonely upstairs in my ivory tower. I like hanging out with you."

  Friends...I have a monster of a crush on the guy and he just chucked me into the friend zone. Well, this is new to me. Most guys will at least test the waters—see if you're open to sex—before writing you off completely. Prince Charming over here has different methods and means.

  I should tell him to go shove his offer but right then, he tilts his head to the side and pouts, peering at me from under his thick brows. Charming fucker…That one look intializes the disintegration of my panties.

  “You are insufferable…” I try not to smile. I fail.