What girl doesn’t dream of marrying a prince and becoming a princess? I never cared about the princess part. I dreamed of marrying a prince who was my equal in poker, so we could play together night and day. I barely understood what sex was back then. All I knew was it involved naked time, which sounded embarrassing.
It’s so weird how much seeing him in person is affecting me. I knew what he looked like from pictures on the internet. He’s got powerful pheromones or testosterone, I don’t know, but I’m ridiculously flustered by it. I knew he went to Cambridge just like he dreamed of, I was happy to see him lending his name to charitable causes, and I knew he owned the casino and ran it. I frequently saw him in the company of beautiful women and never the same woman. No judgment here. He’s a gorgeous prince in his twenties, which means he doesn’t need to settle down. And me? I haven’t been with a man in a long while. Maybe six months? Oh, shit. It’s been nine months. I got lonely over New Year’s and Chloe was sleeping over at a friend’s house, so I brought a guy home from a bar. Never saw him again, which was fine with me.
So now what? We just finished drinks. Adrian had a beer. I had a shot of tequila, which did nothing to calm me. I know him but don’t know him, and my brain can’t reconcile my memories with whoever he is today. It must be the hormones standing in the way. I need to treat him just like I did his sister—friendly, and then so long, let’s keep in touch.
He leans close, his deep voice rumbling in my ear, and I suppress a shiver. “You want to shift to a table and get some dinner?”
Do I want to spend more time with him?
He grins, his hazel eyes sparkling with good humor. “You did say you only had wilted lettuce at home. How about some fresh lettuce? Maybe a steak to go with it?”
I laugh. “Fresh lettuce with steak sounds good.” We are at a fantastic steakhouse. “I wasn’t angling to get a steak dinner. I just like the laid-back vibe of the bar here.”
“Never thought you were.”
He signals to a waitress, who rushes over to him. She’s caught in the Adrian testosterone force field, or maybe she recognizes him. The last bachelor prince of Villroy. His older brothers are all married now.
I glance over at him, and he gives me a small smile that warms me so much I have to look away. I’m not used to this intensity of feeling. Adrian was my first kiss, and I’m so glad. It was perfection. My kisses after him were sloppy, wet, too soft, too hard. Horribly imperfect. And when I got older, when I was pickier about who I kissed, they were just there. The gateway to the main event. I enjoy sex, but once it’s done, I’m done.
A few minutes later, we’re shown to a square dark wood table for two in a private back corner. His guard hovers near the entrance to the space.
Adrian pulls out my chair for me and tucks it in as I sit. I remember this, the gentleman manners. They teach that up at the palace. Even at twelve, he would open doors for us girls. I never gave much thought to him being a prince until we got older. When we met at eight years old, he was just the annoying sidekick to my awesome new friend Silvia. I was so thrilled to find her on the beach one day because Chloe was a one-year-old bore. In fact, that first summer I thought Adrian was gross because he ran around the beach with sand stuck to him and never cared enough to wash it off. He always got sand all over our towels and chairs. Plus, he stuffed sandwiches in his mouth and chewed with big chipmunk cheeks. Boys! Eww! How things change.
I need to keep this thing with Adrian light. No expectations, just a friendly visit. It was easier with Silvia. She happily chattered on about the books she’s working on for the children’s publisher, where she works. Adrian is more reserved, which makes me want to fill the silence, but I have to be careful not to share too much. I can’t let myself get close enough to be hurt when he leaves.
“How long are you in town for?” I ask once he takes his seat across from me.
“Until Thursday,” he says. “The weekend is busy for the casino.”
“Ah, quick visit. Too bad. My game runs Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you’ll just miss the second game.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow, then.” He leans across the table. “I’ll play poorly, and they’ll be thrilled to see the chips piling up.”
I flush with heat just because he leaned close. He’s just so impossibly sexy. Cool it! I busy myself putting my napkin in my lap. “The guys don’t like people they don’t know.”
“You can vouch for me. Besides, at least one of them must have heard of me. My family’s been getting a lot of press lately between the day spa and my casino.” He taps his chest with both hands. “I’m a prince, you know.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I know. I just don’t think—”
“Bet you’re too chicken to invite me to your game.”
My hackles rise. “I’m not chicken.” Then I realize what he’s done, appealing to my inner twelve-year-old. “Nice try.”
He smirks.
The waitress arrives, telling us about the specials and asking what we’d like to drink.
“You want to share a bottle of wine?” he asks.
Oh boy. That would be bad. I can be very loosey-goosey when I drink too much. “I’ll stick to water. Get whatever you want.”
“We’ll both have water,” he says.
Once she leaves, Adrian studies me. Maybe he also finds it strange to see me as a full-grown woman. I doubt he’s seen any pictures of me on the internet over the years except for the distant fuzzy profile pic I posted on social media when I set it up years ago. This really is his first time seeing me.
He places his hand facedown on the table in front of me. “Okay, cards on the table. Silvia’s worried about your game, and I told her I’d check it out. I’m not going to ruin it or end it. I’m just going to check it out and tell Silvia there’s nothing to worry about.”
I let out a breath. I’m glad he’s being straightforward with me, so I do the same. “There is nothing to worry about. You can tell her that right away.”
“I need to see for myself.”
I speak through my teeth. “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t get to play overprotective he-man friend here. You don’t know me well enough to have any authority over me.” I lift a finger. “Not that I’d ever let you have authority over me. I’ve been taking care of myself just fine for years, so chill. Everything’s great.”
He chuckles. “He-man friend. That’s a new one.”
I bite back a smile. “Glad you like it.”
“I’m very chill.” He gives me a charming smile, his eyes twinkling. “Come on, there’s always room at a game for me. People know my rep as a card shark. The good players want to say they bested me. If you have any decent players, I’ll let them win.”
“You’re willing to lose? You hate to lose. You’re as competitive as I am.”
His hazel eyes are direct, intent on mine. “I’ve learned sometimes other things are more important.”
I swallow hard. Does he mean I’m more important? It almost feels like he cares about me, but how could he after all these years? “Silvia’s being a pain in the ass about it, isn’t she?”
He lifts one shoulder. “You know Silvia.”
I used to. I kind of still do. She’s still the same old Silvia—sweet and warm. The girl next door, except she’s a princess. That never came between us, either, because she never made a big deal out of being a princess. She always seemed a little embarrassed by her guard and her maid, Marie, who doubled as a nanny and had been with her and Adrian since they were born.
“What’s the buy-in?” he asks.
“Table’s full. I’ve got my ten players.”
“Humor me and answer the question. There’s a steak dinner in it for you.”
I consider if I want to answer. I’m sure he has the money to join the game. I could always work him in as an alternate. I’m just not sure I want him there. Everyone knows each other, and there’s a good rapport going. Sergei is expecting me to come through with Vic, the hedge fund manager
, though I still haven’t heard back from him. Actually, Adrian might be even better than Vic—a celebrity with deep pockets—and if he plays poorly on purpose, they’ll be thrilled to beat him. But then I’m basically asking him to make a giant donation to the cause just to appease his sister’s unfounded worries.
“Tell Silvia not to worry, okay?” I say and pick up the menu.
“How much?” he demands in a growl that jolts me into dropping the menu as excitement shoots through me.
That growly commanding voice does it for me. It’s sexy as fuck, but it’s also coming from someone I know is a good person. My personal kryptonite—alpha and tender, an extremely rare combination I’ve only read about in romance novels, which I will never admit to reading secretly on my phone. I have a tough New Yorker rep to protect.
I lick my lips. “Fifty K.”
He blows out a breath. “You’re telling me you’ve got a half mil on the table before the first cards are dealt?”
“Shh.”
He leans close, his voice low. “Do you take a percent?”
“No.” A rake, taking a percent, would make it illegal. Everything is completely kosher—I pay my taxes as an event planner, which I am. No rake, no drugs, just vodka and men looking for the adrenaline rush of the game.
His sharp eyes study me, and it feels like he’s searching my soul for the truth about me. Truth? I don’t let anyone see inside. It’s all I can do not to fidget in my seat.
Finally, he says, “Tips must be great.”
“Better than waitressing.” And my office manager job combined, I add silently.
“Then why are you living in a studio apartment?”
“It’s convenient.”
“Where do you play?”
I pick up the menu and study it, hoping he’ll take the hint. I don’t want to answer any more questions. He doesn’t take the hint at all. I can practically feel his eyes boring into the menu between us, and there’s a palpable tension vibrating in the air. Alpha doesn’t just mean sexy time, it means all the time. Clearly he’s got the demanding, assertive, and protector parts down pat, but I don’t need someone watching over me.
“Are you the only woman there?” he asks.
I keep studying the menu.
He snatches the menu from my hands. “Stop hiding behind the menu and answer me.”
My stomach flutters. Fuck. I do not want to be turned on by Adrian Rourke. He’s the one person who could easily get under my skin, and I can’t risk the pain of letting him in close. He’ll leave. Everyone leaves.
I avoid his eyes and take a deep breath, reaching for calm. He’s tied to Villroy, and he’s leaving on Thursday. I can handle this. He’s just an old friend looking out for me because that’s what he does. He has a hero complex. Oh, I feel so much better now. That’s what this is. I called him a hero once, and now he thinks he has to play hero for me.
I meet his eyes. “Sometimes a few of the guys bring their latest girlfriend, so I’m not always the only woman. I have a dealer I can depend on. I’m just the organizer.”
“Organize me in,” he orders.
Alpha. Hero. Why do I like that so much? I take care of myself.
I lean forward. “Why do you care what I do?”
He leans close, and my breath catches. “Why do you think?”
I gulp and lean back. “I have no idea. We barely know each other.”
“Okay, let’s get to know each other again.” He lifts a hand. “Ask me anything, and then I’ll ask you what I want to know, until we’ve reached friendship level again and then…” His voice drops to a fierce low tone that makes me go damp between the legs. “You tell me what the hell you’re up to with this game that you won’t even let me watch.”
“I love your voice,” I blurt. He did not sound like this at twelve.
He straightens. “You do?”
I nod.
He lifts a brow. “This is the voice that makes me a bad manager.”
“I’m sure it’s their issue, not yours.”
He studies me for a long moment. “You should go back with me to Villroy to check out the casino. I’d love your opinion on it. I’ll wait until after your game on Thursday, and you can take the jet with me. I’ll have you back in time for your Tuesday game.”
The jet. Maybe one day I’ll be casually saying stuff like that. With the right people at my game, it’s a possibility. But Villroy is a no-go. I don’t want to be pulled under by grief again, don’t want to chance losing control to panic attacks. I’m in a good place now. “Tempting, but I have to deal with the money the next day.”
“What do you mean?”
I wave a hand airily. “You know, pay everyone up. Collect from the losers and give to the winners.”
His eyes narrow. “You do that.”
“Yes.”
“By yourself.”
I square my shoulders. “Well, yeah. It’s my game. I’m not going to send someone else out. They might take a cut.”
He slaps a palm on the table. “That’s it. I’m going with you to the game, and the next day too. Are you financing these games yourself?”
“It’s a risk, I know, but so far it’s worked out.”
“And what if they don’t pay up the next day?”
“They always do.”
His eyes bore into mine, his jaw set tight. “And, if they don’t, you’re on the hook to pay up the winners.”
I meet his eyes and say evenly, “It’s fine.”
“It is not fine,” he growls.
My nipples harden to points, my breasts aching and full. It’s his voice, and also he sounds like he really cares about me. I don’t know why he cares after all this time, but it’s clear he’s looking out for me. My hero.
“Whatever,” I say with a casualness I’m far from feeling. “You can go to the game as an alternate and watch me do my job, but I’m sure you’ll be bored out of your mind. It’s all very mundane business.”
“Great,” he says in a cheerful voice that doesn’t make me throb. Much better.
Of course, now I have to risk the guys revolting against an unknown. I’d better text everyone and talk Adrian up ahead of time. Prince of Villroy should do it. We don’t have any celebrities at our game. Just wealthy business guys. I don’t know what business they’re all in, and I don’t need to know. I screened them ahead of time to be sure no one was involved with drugs, human trafficking, or shit like that. My job is simply to make it fun for everyone—great food, great drink, quality chips and cards, nice table. This isn’t the kind of game most guys have in the basement of some crap apartment building. I’m the key to making it great. I’ve even got a waiting list of players now, but I’m picky, looking for just the right people.
The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Adrian drops the poker game inquisition and tells me all about his casino and the challenges of running it. His big concern is being a good manager, but guess what? Just the fact that he gives a shit about being a good manager automatically makes him one in my book. In my experience, most bosses don’t care. He just needs to have a good team of people in place.
“I’m sure things will smooth out soon,” I tell him. “You’ve just opened. Give it time for everyone to settle in and know their place.”
He rubs the back of his neck, smiling. “I always knew you were smart.”
I smile. “That’s a huge compliment coming from you.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you graduated with honors from Cambridge.”
He cocks his head. “I didn’t tell you I graduated with honors. Sara Travers, have you been cyberstalking me?”
I fight back a blush and work for my perfect poker face. “Silvia mentioned it.”
“Ah. Did you go to university?”
I rub my finger back and forth on the edge of the table. “No. I needed to work. Money was tight.” I lift my chin, pasting on a smile. “My goal was always to get Chloe through college, and she’s doing fantastic. She got into Columbia
.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you ever think of going back?”
“What’s the point? I’m doing great. Besides, I still have to get Chloe through medical school too. I’m not letting her graduate with heavy debt.”
The waitress arrives with the check.
“My treat,” I tell him, wanting him to know I’m doing great now and not trying to mooch a meal. I pick up the check, and he snatches it out of my hands.
“You can get the next dinner,” he says, pulling out his wallet.
Next dinner? “But you’re leaving on Thursday,” I blurt.
“It’s Monday. Maybe you’ll need to eat again between now and then.” He winks and—
I melt.
There’s no other word for it. Warmth floods me and I soften, all of my muscles relaxing. Adrian is something special—smart, warm, a really good person. I knew it when I was a kid, and I’m beginning to know it again. Throw in his sexy good looks, and he is temptation personified. I can’t let myself get sucked in, can’t let myself risk the pain of getting close to someone who lives an ocean away.
He walks me home, and the conversation is easy as he tells me about the latest with his family. There’s been some crazy stuff going on up there at the palace. I knew about some of it, like the furry wedding (people in stuffed-animal suits) that was hilariously covered in detail in two bridal magazines and all over the internet, as well as his sister Emma running away from her own wedding. The bridal competition for his oldest brother Gabriel’s hand was news though.
“So that’s how he ended up marrying a commoner,” I say. “That made headlines.”
He nods. “It was a big deal with Gabriel being the heir to the throne, but my parents agreed to it because they didn’t want another replay of what happened with my uncle. Did I ever tell you that story? How my father’s older brother fell in love with a girl from Brooklyn and abdicated the throne to marry her?”
I shake my head.
He looks around. “I should look them up too while I’m here. That was the first time a royal married a commoner in our kingdom’s history. It was a huge scandal. My uncle was exiled from Villroy forever, as well as his family. Silvia got in touch with my cousins here in Brooklyn since she’s been in the US so long. I have six cousins I’ve never met.”
Royal Shark (The Rourkes, Book 6) Page 5
