Royal Bastard: A Bad Boy Royal Romance

by Emilia Beaumont

  His private domain.

  My stomach rolled with anticipation as the elevator ascended to god knows where. I was about to step into the lion’s den, and I really didn’t know what to expect. Last night’s visit and our talk had been, well, interesting. After pressing a card with this address into my hand, he had driven off without another word, leaving the decision in my hands. And for the next hour I’d been forced to listen to my mum literally recount the entire evening’s events to my father as if he hadn’t been there.

  While she had been over the moon about the royal visit, I was totally unsettled, especially by the moment in the kitchen where I could have sworn he would have kissed me had she not interrupted. The problem was, I didn’t feel weirded out by the fact but more intrigued. What did he kiss like? Was it tender or demanding? Would he grab the back of my head or would he cradle my face? The stupid questions had been endless, one of the many reasons I hadn’t gotten much sleep.

  The doors opened and I took in the prince’s flat for the first time. The hardwood floors were in sharp contrast to the white walls, and while I expected rigidly stuffed and hard leather chairs I was surprised to see that the furniture was more for comfort than for showing off. An open kitchen with all the modern appliances was also visible from my vantage point at the main entrance, as well as a glass and wooden staircase off to my right that led to the second level, where I was sure my new client lay.

  “Um, hello?” I called out softly, taking a few steps into the main living room. “It’s Rose, Rose Mathis. If there are any guards… please don’t shoot me.” There was no response save the ticking of an art deco clock on the wall not far from me and the sound of a gentle snore coming from somewhere up above. Maybe I had come too early. Too bad.

  Squaring my shoulders, I forced my feet to move towards the staircase. Well, I was already here, after all. I was going to have to face the prince’s wrath for waking him up. Slowly I climbed the stairs to the second floor, finding an open floor plan with a large bed dominating the centre. He was sprawled out on the bed, his arms flung out as if he were impersonating a starfish. He slumbered on, unaware that I was stepping into his personal space.

  I felt awkward that I hadn’t made more noise and had taken it upon myself to saunter into his bedroom. But all those thoughts went out the window as I admired his well-formed chest and abs, getting a little weak in the knees at the thought of what else might be lying under the sheet that settled low on his hips. He was gorgeous and damn lickable, if you asked me.

  I bit my lip, unsure what I should do to wake him up. Was a gentle shake of his shoulder enough, or should I beat him with a pillow until he opened his eyes? Was I brave enough to even touch him? My hands trembled at the thought. This was such a bad idea. I should just go back downstairs and wait until he woke up by himself. I could explain that way better than being in his bedroom. Swallowing hard, I reached out and touched his leg, covered in the silken sheets.

  “Er, Prince Edward?” I said, shaking it a little. “Hey, wake up.”

  He muttered and rolled over, the small indentation of his lower back and the top of his ass coming into view. Oh god. The temperature in his flat immediately rose ten degrees, or that could’ve just been my face burning up with embarrassment and desire. He was completely naked under that thin sheet. One good tug and I would have a view that I wouldn’t forget!

  My cheeks flushed again with part naughtiness and wickedness as I averted my eyes from his glorious backside, wondering how I had thought this was a good idea again. Oh yeah. Ten grand. That would make anyone in their right mind do something like this.

  Reining in my inner naughty school-girl, I decided to stick with the top half of him—the much safer half—and I walked over to the bed and placed a hand upon his shoulder, feeling his heat as I gave it a good shake. “Prince Edward, wake up. Please don’t make me douse you with cold water.”

  His eyes finally opened, and for a split second, I saw a tender expression on his face that had my heart doing double-time in my chest. Oh, how long had I wanted someone to look at me like that in the morning or to even be excited to see me in that regard? But his expression changed nearly immediately. His mouth turned up into a lazy, cocky grin, his eyes becoming clearer as he looked at me. “You’re taking the job. I knew you would.”

  “I’m taking the job on a few conditions,” I said, stepping back from the bed. “Can you, um, get dressed so we can talk about it?”

  He slowly sat up, his hand rubbed idly across his chest and I swallowed. What was wrong with me? This man was not going to be in any way, shape or form part of my normal life. Period. I was here to do a job, not fantasise about his body or where his hand lay or anything else for that matter!

  He patted the mattress beside him. “Stay. We can have a delightful conversation right here.”

  I curled my hands into tight fists as I stalked away from the bed back towards the stairs, trying my best to stay calm and not sprint away since I realised he had just caught me staring at his chest. “I will be waiting downstairs.”

  His laughter followed me all the way down. “Suit yourself, Rose, but I doubt it’ll be the last time I get you in my bedroom!”

  9

  Edward

  I walked down the stairs barefoot, an amused look on my face. She was going to take the job. I had no doubts. The lure of ten grand had proved to be her downfall, and maybe my charm had something to do with it, too, though I’m sure she would never admit to that.

  I had been surprised to see her staring at me when she woke me up, even more surprised as my cock had jumped to attention at the thought of her being so close to my bed. In a brief moment, I wanted to pull her into the damn thing to see how she was going to react, but she had stepped away quickly, as if she could read my dirty mind. It was probably for the best anyway.

  I rounded the staircase and found her sitting on the sofa, her back rigid and ankles crossed. She looked almost terrified, as if she’d been called to the headmaster’s office for an old fashioned caning. Mmm, I certainly wouldn’t say no to spanking her voluptuous behind. I grinned at the thought and resisted the urge to adjust myself as my cock twitched.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. So,” I started, taking the chair across from her, “you said something about having conditions?”

  Her mouth worked, thinking, before she looked at me and nodded. “I am not your maid. I will not be your fall guy or girl, either. I won’t do anything illegal or immoral or anything to jeopardise my life or my family.”

  “What on earth do you think I’m going to get you to do?”

  “I don’t really know, but that’s my point. So I want to be clear about my boundaries from the get-go.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” I shrugged, thinking all of those were legit reasons; I’d only asked the question to watch her squirm and blush again.

  “I won’t sleep with you, either.”

  I snapped my gaze back to her, surprise filling my veins. “What?”

  “I won’t sleep with you,” she said, a little louder this time, though her voice trembled with every word. “I now know of your reputation, and I wish to have no part in your sexual, er… lifestyle. I am here to do a job. I won’t be a conquest.”

  “Oh, really?” I chuckled. I was getting to her. She had definitely been affected by me all up in her personal space last night. Sleep with her? Hell, I wanted to devour her. My dreams had been full of her, and those damn unusual eyes of hers haunted my sleep. “What if you decide you do want to sleep with me?” I asked, an undercurrent of heat running just under the surface of my words.

  “I won’t,” she said automatically, her words coming out in a squeak.

  “Liar,” I said softly, giving her a wink.

  She looked away, breaking our miniature staring contest. She cleared her throat. “Do you agree or not?”

  “Of course, I agree,” I said, mentally filing that away for later. I wouldn’t break that clause, but I wouldn�
�t need to; she would do that all on her own, I thought wickedly. “I’m not some monster. I’m not going to force myself on you. Besides, you know what I truly want of yours,” I said and leaned forward in my chair.

  Her body instinctively mirrored my action. “What’s that?” she questioned, her eyes wide.

  “Mmm, your photography skills—what else?”

  She huffed and scowled at me, but her shoulders lost some of their tension, and she began to relax.

  “So, where do we start?”

  More tension ebbed out of her expression as the topic of conversation turned to work. She pulled out a notebook and looked at me expectedly. “I don’t know… You tell me. I’ve never done this before. What’s on your calendar?”

  I leaned back in the chair, thinking about the dozens of emails and formal letters I got daily from the palace about things that they wanted me to attend. “I usually ignore everything that doesn’t start or end with a party. The rest of the invites get ignored and binned.”

  “Well, not anymore,” she answered tightly, looking down at the notebook. “Fine, I had a feeling that you wouldn’t have anything organised, so I took the liberty of pulling the royal schedule off the internet. It might not be completely accurate, but it’s a start that we can work with.”

  I was impressed; not even I had thought of that. Clearly she had done her homework, which made me feel somewhat reassured that she was the woman for the job. Pulling my phone out of my jeans, I flipped to the rigorous schedule Andrew was always sending me. “Don’t worry, I’ll email you the full one. But you look like you already have a bit of a plan?”

  “There’s a dinner tonight,” she answered, reading the page. “Should be a good starting place to get some shots. We could use it as a trial run?”

  “Not good enough,” I said, thinking that sitting through a dinner with people I didn’t care to know was not my idea of a good time. “Next.”

  Her face darkened. “You won’t be there to have a good time, Your Highness—”

  “Edward.”

  “Fine, Edward. But you can’t pick and choose these events based upon how much of party it’s going to be or how many women you think you can lure back to your bedroom.”

  “I know that, but I said next. No boring dinners.”

  I heard a small growl rumble from her lips. She took a breath and tried again. “There’s a black-tie affair for a charity that your father supports,” she said, pressing her lips in a tight line. “Tomorrow night.”

  “Better. That one I will do,” I said, thinking of how surprised my father would be to see me there. He was forever supporting charities.

  “I really think you should do the dinner, as well,” she replied, looking up at me, those beautiful eyes magically dissolving my resolve. With eyes like hers I would be in danger of doing anything for her. “You only have a month, after all.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, realising she was right. I needed to show my father that I could behave in public, be part of the royal family no matter what, with a cleaned up image, regardless of how painful it was for me. “Fine,” I said. “I will go.” Palming my phone, I scrolled to my brother’s name. “I need you to confirm for me your full name.”

  “Why? I thought you already knew that,” she said, frowning.

  “Just making sure. It’s for security clearance,” I responded dully. By dinnertime my father’s security detail would know everything about Rose Mathis.

  “Rose Victoria Mathis,” she said softly. I raised an eyebrow but typed the name nevertheless, firing the message to my brother to take care of it. I then stood, stretching my arms over my shoulders. “Come on,” I said, walking to the lift. “I’m starving, and you need a new dress.”

  “W-what?” she asked, hurrying after me with a confused look on her face. “But I’m not attending this thing.”

  I turned and pointed toward her camera bag hanging from her shoulder. “How do you expect to get any pictures of me to send to the tabloids?”

  “But won’t that be very suspicious?” she asked, clearly not believing that it was a good plan. “I mean, carrying around your own paparazzi?”

  “And what do you have in mind?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. How else did she expect to get photos of me being all respectable?

  “Well, you could just show up for one,” she said, biting her lower lip. I was instantly drawn to it, the plumpness reminding me of how close I had come to kissing her last night. “Surely that has to be an improvement. I can write a piece for the newspaper, I suppose. Just tell me what happens.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said, glaring down at her. “You are going with me so you can see it first-hand.”

  “I-I didn’t think attending private family dinners would be on the menu,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “I will be your publicist of sorts, but even those don’t go to royal dinners! Do they?”

  “No. So fine then, you will be my damn date instead!” I shouted, catching us both off guard. Her eyes widened and I swore, attempting to lower my irritation. “Listen, I need someone there who I can trust and who is impartial to tell me if I do something completely stupid. I can’t afford any more bad press, and honestly, Rose, I don’t trust my own family. Certainly not my stepmother.” Andrew would not steer me wrong, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I wanted her there. She bit her lip nervously, and I recognised that it was her tic, the one thing she did when she was contemplating something. Another quirk that was growing on me.

  “O-okay,” she finally responded, looking up at me, the expression in her eyes hard to decipher. I stepped toward her involuntarily, my hand reaching out to cup her cheek. Her eyes widened, and I felt the jolt of shock as well, surprised that I had touched her in such a tender fashion. The heat that coursed through my body at the smallest touch had me thinking about how fucking bad I wanted her. I had never wanted anyone so much.

  “It will be fine,” I said, clearing my voice and stepping back, dropping my hand from her cheek, though I wanted desperately to pull her into a searing kiss. “Are we going to get you some new clothes, or do you happen to have something suitable?”

  She blinked a few times, and I watched as Rose snapped back into the here and now, her dazed look taking on a hard edge. “I have clothes, if that is what you are asking,” she said coolly.

  “That’s not what I am asking,” I forced out, my voice sounding harsh to even my own ears. “Formal attire, black-tie event attire, do you have it?”

  Her lips set in a firm line, and I knew my answer. “Come on,” I sighed, resuming my stride to the lift. “And I am not taking no for an answer. My treat. I’m going to make you look like the princess that you are.”

  10

  Rose

  “What am I doing?”

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, watching as my facial expression changed from surprise to horror. I couldn’t do this.

  That had been most of my morning—ups and downs that had given me the biggest headache I’d ever experienced. After calling for a driver, Edward dragged me to an exclusive boutique on Bond Street, one that I had occasionally walked past but never once actually stepped inside. And despite it being after nine o’clock in the morning, we were offered champagne as soon as we entered by a smiling blonde whose eyes raked over Edward like he was a buffet she was going to feast on.

  After much conversation and a lot of eye-rolling on my part, I was sent back to a dressing room bigger than my first apartment and forced to try on dress after dress. Okay, forced was a strong word, but I was deathly afraid I was going to snag some of them and have to take out a loan in an effort to pay for any damage caused. These dresses were way too expensive for someone like me.

  With a sigh, I nervously brushed at the soft material of the beautiful black one I had on, an Alexander McQueen creation. I had to admit the simple yet stunning full-length wrap dress with a modest but still revealing neckline was to die for and not to mention elegant, hugging my curves in all the
right places. With the help of the tummy controller I had on, I felt almost skinny. And beautiful. Those were two words that weren’t typically in my vocabulary. Grabbing my hair, I pulled it up into a sophisticated bun and turned.

  “How many times are you going to look at it?”

  I gasped and whirled around, my hair falling back to my shoulders as I stared at the brilliant eyes of the rogue prince lounging against the curtain. “What are you doing?” I hissed, feeling very exposed even though I was covered in the delicate dress.

  “I’ve been waiting to see my purchase,” he said, his voice low. “And apparently I would have missed out.”

  “You would have seen it tonight,” I said furiously. I needed my hair done, my makeup perfect before I would feel confident on his arm. Oh god, this was not what I had signed up for!

  “It would be worth the wait, but I’m impatient,” he said softly, his eyes roaming my body. “You look fucking gorgeous in that dress.”

  The temperature rose at least one hundred degrees as I let his compliment sink in. I shouldn’t have felt special just hearing him say those words, but I did. A lot. He made me feel seen, giddy and buzzing with confidence… and I worried about that feeling. This was becoming extremely complicated, and it was only the first day! “I… thanks,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t accept this or any of the others. They are way too expensive.”

  “You can and you will,” he ground out, his jaw set as he pushed away from the doorway and stepped fully inside the dressing room, much to my shock. I watched as the curtain closed us in, confining us to the one section. “How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

  “Until you listen to me,” I shot back, feeling very vulnerable due to his closeness. He stopped his advance, not that there was anywhere else to go, and laughed. “God, you are going to make this month interesting.” Giving me a wink, he took a step back and walked out. “Get dressed, we’ve got things to do.”