Resisting Royal (The Repayment Series)

by Delilah Mohan

  “Good. That was surprisingly fast.” But, then again, when you’re the boss, people listen and things get done.

  “They are usually proficient.” He looked down at his list again. “I got a call from Shaw this morning asking if you still plan to drop in at the ranch this weekend. I told him I would get back to him this evening. I can’t make it, but I assume you can do fine with the boys yourself.”

  I chuckled, remembering the last time Roman invited me to their compound and all the havoc the two of us got into. Just like when we were children, Shaw had to intervene and cut us off from the alcohol. Good times, always good times. “You have some alcohol-induced fun one time, and you never live it down.”

  “Some? If I recall a whole building was burnt to the ground, a dog got stuck in a tree, and somehow . . . you still managed to wake up with not one. . . but two ladies in a barn.”

  To be fair, it wasn’t all my fault. Roman had said they planned to destroy the building anyway, so the fire was his idea. As for a dog, well . . . that’s a whole different story. “I’ll be there.”

  “I didn’t think you would miss it. Remember, this is business-related. Don’t get too sidetracked.” I felt like a child being scowled by a parent.

  “Me, sidetracked?” His look told me he wasn’t convinced. “Plus, Bianca will be there to babysit me.”

  “Someone has to.” He typed something on his phone. “I confirmed with Shaw.” His phone buzzed. “He said he is hiding the matches.”

  Fuckers. Always such a buzzkill. His eyes narrowed as if he could read my thoughts. “Lastly, there is a debt slightly overdue from McAllister. What do you want to do?”

  I blew out a breath while I thought about it. “Send him a two-week extension.”

  “You’re going soft,” he accused.

  “I’ve had a long day,” I defended.

  He made a note and put away his device. “Use whatever excuse you want; the truth is you’re tired.”

  I couldn’t help but scoff at that. “Tired? Hardly.”

  “You are.” He shook his finger at me, and I wanted to reach over and snap it in half. “This job is wearing down on you, old man.”

  “No, hiring my friends is what wears down on me.” I glared, and he just shook his head.

  “Say what you will and go ahead and place blame, but the truth is, you’re ready for a change.”

  “Where the fuck did you get that from? I’m perfectly content where I am.” Which, for the most part, was correct. I loved being the boss, I loved the control, I craved the worship.

  “If you were content before, why bring Bianca into the mix?”

  Because I had to have her. I needed to break her. I wanted to prove that I could dominate a feisty soul like hers. All would have been acceptable answers. Instead, I opened my mouth and gave only a smidgen of the truth. “I got tired of the whores, they all wanted something.”

  “And you think Bianca isn’t getting something from you out of this deal?” I internally groaned because lord help me, it most definitely wasn’t something of the sexual nature.

  “Whatever she receives is deserved. She didn’t do business with me before. Her payment toward me is to be my spouse, satisfy Greta’s nagging, and accompany me in times required; she owes me nothing else.”

  “But?” he prompted.

  “But what?” I was genuinely confused.

  “But, you want the something else?”

  I did, I so fucking did. Never before until Bianca had I wanted more than just a side fuck. But then her dark, brown hair and green eyes haunted my every waking moment, and all I thought about was having her forever and growing old with a football team of kids and two dogs, plus a fucking bunny. “Doesn’t the something else come along with her being my spouse?”

  I tried to play it off, but I didn’t know who I thought I was fooling because it definitely wasn’t Troy. “It doesn’t always have to go hand in hand.”

  “In this case, it does. It’s in the contract,” I pointed out.

  “So, you want to contract someone into loving you?” he observed, his elbow resting on his armchair as his fingers scratched at his facial hair.

  Technically, yes. “No.”

  He laughed, then shook his head as he stood. “Look, whatever works for you, man. You’re one confused motherfucker.” He walked out of my office and shut the door, not giving me enough time to counter his insult.

  A few hours later, I found myself in an empty house. Bianca had an emergency client and had to stay late, and Greta, well, who the hell really knew what she was up to. I walked into the kitchen, searching for a snack to tide me over. I wasn’t hungry, but I could eat, and what better way to kill time than to snack?

  Opening the pantry, I jumped back, nearly having a heart attack as the giant floppy-eared bunny hopped out of the closet. “This is getting ridiculous.”

  The little bastard looked up at me as he twitched his nose, then hopped away, completely unaware of how out of place he was in the kitchen. I reached for the olive jar, grabbed some crackers, and headed for the counter. After setting down my snack, I took out my phone, pulling up my contractor, and sent out a text. Satisfaction consumed me as we worked out our plans and when we were finished, I couldn’t hide the smile.

  The doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, followed by the supplies needed for the newly formed plan. A text from Bianca confirmed that she decided to get a drink with a friend named Natalie, and she would be home later in the evening. Although I appreciated the text, which she wasn’t obligated to send, I was annoyed that I hadn’t met this friend, and I made a mental note to check her out soon.

  After doing a walkthrough and verbalizing my ideas to make sure all would be executed correctly, I left the contractors to their work and locked myself in my office for a few hours, bunny in tow, to take care of some paperwork for a business lease on one of the newly constructed buildings.

  Peter curled up next to my feet as I worked, and I would never admit it to Bianca, but the damn rodent was growing on me. Did I like waking up at dawn with the fluffy jerk eyeing me while he snuggled with my woman? No, not so much. But having another breathing thing around while I went about my typically lonely routine? Well, I saw the appeal.

  It didn’t take long for the new addition to be installed, and with the price I was paying, why would it? I owned the company and their time, and when I wanted something to happen, well, they made it happen regardless. The crew was out of my house twenty minutes before my wife arrived, and when I heard her pull up, I couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile that took over my face.

  I picked up the rabbit. “You ready for your new home, kid?” His nose twitched, but the bastard didn’t say a word.

  Peter and I waited by the door as she walked up, and she looked shocked to see me with the creature. “You have my rabbit.”

  “Well, I found him in the pantry, again . . . so we’ve been hanging out and bonding.” I held him up for her to take, his giant body hanging awkwardly in the air until she grabbed him.

  She took her pet from me, snuggling him close to her body and kissing his fuzzy head. “Mama’s missed you.”

  “She doesn’t greet me that way,” I told the rabbit like he even cared.

  “Are you jealous of an animal, Royal?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

  I pulled my own brows together. “No. I’m not jealous of an animal, don’t be ridiculous. I just feel like some gratitude at my presence couldn’t hurt occasionally.”

  She rubbed Peter’s ears, and they flopped around. “It’s nice to see you this evening, Royal.”

  “Pity excitement doesn’t count,” I pointed out.

  “You smell good.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “How’s that?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a start.”

  She pushed past me. “A start? It’s probably the best you’re getting. What were you expecting?”

  “I wouldn’t object if you dropped to your knees in front of me,” I said casually, know
ing just the words would light a fire inside of her.

  As suspected, she instantly turned on her heels, fire blazing in her eyes. “What did you just say?”

  I licked my lips, her fire making me suddenly hungry for her closeness. “I’m pretty sure you heard me, Amore.”

  “It’s not a matter of hearing you, it’s the fact that you had some fucking nerve speaking those words.” She used one foot to push off her heel, then repeated the motion on the other, “I’m not a whore.”

  I pictured her in front of me, her mascara streaming down her face as my fingers held tight to her hair. “You, Amore, are most definitely not a whore. But that doesn’t mean a man can’t dream.”

  She stomped toward the stairs, and I bent down, picking up her heels before following behind her. “I don’t get you. You can have any girl, Royal. Any girl, yet you're fixated on me like I’m an obsession. Why can’t you go mess with them?”

  “Amore, it was a joke.” A joke she obviously wasn’t feeling tonight.

  “The fact remains, why won’t you just leave me alone?”

  “As you stomp up the stairs to my bedroom,” I pointed out.

  She spun on me again. “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want other girls, Bianca.” She rolled her eyes and continued stomping upstairs.

  “I don’t get why not. They would get you all the attention you obviously deserve.” She reached the top of the stairs and turned back to me again. “Why are you following me?”

  I held up her shoes, and she grunted her response. I used my free hand and shooed her forward, waiting until she entered the room and gasped, before I continued up the stairs. I strolled the distance to our bedroom casually, knowing why she gasped. When I entered, she was standing in the middle of the room, her hand over her mouth in shock as she looked up.

  “You . . .” She started but never finished her sentence.

  I watched her amusingly. “I?”

  “You made my bunny a . . .” Her words again drifted off.

  “I’m calling it a sanctuary.” I walked by her and sat on the bed, looking up at the finished project for the first time myself. It was a well-formed structure of thick piping and faux grass landings, combined with entrance ramps and toy stations. I was impressed, actually. The men pulled it together in no time when if I had the desire to make this structure myself, it would have taken a lifetime.

  “But you made it for me?”

  “Well, I didn’t personally make it,” I pointed out.

  “But you had it made.” She looked up again in wonder.

  This gooey excited side of her was making me feel slightly uncomfortable. It was not something I was accustomed to feeling often. “It was selfish really, I was hoping he would stay out of our bed at night. I, um, was thinking we could extend it to other rooms if you wanted.”

  She ignored my explanation and walked to stand directly in front of me. “You made Peter a sanctuary.”

  Ah, yeah, that’s what we established, right. So instead of answering her, I just nodded. The smile that took over her face was breathtaking. The fact it was directed at me nearly made me weak, but it was the kiss . . . the kiss she leaned down and gave me that nearly did me in. It wasn’t hot, or heavy, or even filled with passion, but it was sincere. It wasn’t coaxed or initiated or hell . . . even asked for.

  My heart beat faster as she pulled away, and I had to struggle to keep my breathing regular as she placed her rabbit on the ramp and turned back toward me, her joy beaming off her. I swallowed hard, then mirrored her expression, hoping to hide that I was moments away from collapsing, and only she could save me.

  CHAPTER 25

  BIANCA

  Royal had muttered something about a fight and left, leaving me to continue to stare up at the structure in awe. I had come home in a bitter mood, my mind sulking over what I would never have. After spending time with Natalie, her whole life consumed by wedding planning, I was caught up in my feelings of jealousy over getting the opportunity of a wedding, the dress, the flowers taken from me. It was something I never really knew I wanted until I realized I missed the chance.

  His crude comment shouldn’t have made me so angry, but it did. It was another reminder that I was an object to him, not a person, not the wife he claimed me to be. But then, this. I looked up again as my rabbit hopped through the clear tube above my head. This whole gesture proved that maybe there was a piece of me who was wrong about Royal the entire time.

  He never came home last night, and when I texted him this morning, his response was quick and short, followed by a reminder of the weekend business trip. I cringed while reading it, not prepared to spend a whole weekend side by side with my husband, the term used loosely.

  What exactly did you wear on a weekend business trip? Casual? Business casual? Did I need to show extra cleavage to gain favors? God, I hoped not. The thought made me shiver. No way was I okay with showing extra skin just to benefit Royal’s business deal.

  After work, I chose to go shopping for a few outfits, just in case. I was in the fitting room, trying clothes on, Royal’s babysitter standing outside a reasonable distance away as to not disturb me. My phone dinged, and I took it out of my bag, glancing at the screen.

  Troy is meeting you in five with my card.

  My brows scrunched up for a second, before remembering he knew where I was because of the babysitter. I quickly responded. Why?

  There was a delayed response, which I used to try on a knee-length, dark green dress with adorable cap sleeves. My phone dinged. You’re shopping.

  Why are you such a stalker?

  I could almost hear his laugh as I smiled at the phone waiting. I call it looking out for what’s mine.

  Am I yours?

  There was a knock at the door, and I opened it, peeking out to see Troy standing there. I opened the door wider when I saw who it was, and he let out a loud, long whistle. He gazed at me one more time before handing me the credit card in his hand.

  “I don’t need this,” I informed him as he still stood there.

  “Take it, believe me. It’s easier to just go with it than push against him.” He tapped the frame of the dressing room and turned away.

  “I don’t need his money,” I said again.

  “But he wants you to have it,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  I groaned. Why were they so stubborn? “I won’t use it.”

  He mocked my groan. “Why? He doesn’t know how to do nice things, Bianca. He’s not used to wooing the girl and showering her with love. Just take his gesture and accept it. He may not show it, but he really wants your approval.”

  He left, and I tossed the card in my purse. I had just unzipped the dress when my phone dinged. Troy said to get the dress.

  Why would I listen to him? I countered as I stood in the dressing room in my underclothes, putting the dress back on the hanger.

  Always a fight with you. He said it was killer and I would love it. Wear it on Saturday night?

  Great, now even being near the dress was making me self-conscious. The fact that he was blindingly trusting Troy to make such a massive decision as if the decision was his to begin with showed just how much faith he had in the guy. The ding chimed again. The card has no limit, get whatever you want.

  Ugh, why were they pushing this so much? It’s like men enjoyed taking simple, relaxing shopping trips and twisting them into a stressful experience. Was it legal to walk around the mall with an open bottle of wine? Security would surely understand, at least if they were females. If he wanted to pay for this dress that I would probably only wear once, fine. I’d buy the damn matching shoes too.

  I left the mall weighted down by three dresses, two pairs of jeans, two pairs of heels, a new sweater, four blouses, and a slew of matching accessories and undergarments. Actually, I wasn’t weighed down by anything, Royal’s babysitter, Ernesto, was. The poor guy followed behind me, the weight of my bags slowing him down as he struggled.

  The whole driv
e home, I felt satisfied, sure that after Royal saw the bags I was loaded with, he would change his mind about the “buy what you want” moto. Parking in my spot, Ernesto met me at my trunk, insisting I not lift a bag. Looking up, I saw Royal in the doorway, a drink in his hand, his lips turned up in what I was beginning to know as his signature amused look.

  When we approached, his eyes followed us curiously. “That’s not nearly as bad of a damage as I thought it would be.”

  Was he kidding me? “This, sir, is four hundred dollars from your bank account.”

  He tilted his head curiously. “Is that all? I thought that was what one dress cost.”

  I nearly choked. Never in my life had I owned a four hundred dollar dress. “What? Where do you shop? Forty dollars is my max.”

  “You shouldn’t have a max. I said you have no limit.” He took the bags from Ernesto, thanked him, and then dismissed him.

  I removed my heels, a habit that his plush carpet encouraged, then turned. “I thought four hundred dollars was outrageous.”

  He laughed. “Four hundred dollars is pocket change.”

  Well, damn. Just how loaded was he? I bent over and picked up my heels, Royal’s hand already taking them from me as he used his head to gesture me up the stairs. I did as he suggested, and he followed behind me, not even seeming winded by all the weight and bags he carried up.

  When we got to the room, he set the bags down and began taking everything out, laying the hung items on the bed and untangling the accessories as he unloaded them. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking out my purchases,” he informed me.

  I stared. “Why?”

  He made a gesture of indifference. “Curiosity.”

  “Why are you so curious about what clothes I wear? You know I’m not going to dress head to toe in the world’s skimpiest jumpsuit to your business meeting,” I pointed out. Sure, we didn’t know each other well, but he had been around me enough to know no boobs would hang out, my ass would be covered, and a pair of heels would be worn. I was a simple girl with simple likes.