It was proving more difficult than I’d anticipated.
Gregory continued to talk about this Porsche he wanted to buy. I motioned to the waitress for another drink. As painful as this date was turning out to be, I had to keep trying. Maybe the next guy would be the one. Or the next. The more frogs I kissed, the better chances I had of finding my prince. Not a real prince, obviously. I’d already done that, and look how that ended up.
We finished up dinner and stood to leave. Maybe it was the three cocktails I’d had, but I couldn’t seem to figure out where the sleeve of my jacket went. Gregory just stood there, scrolling through his phone while I flailed around like a beached fish. I remembered how Rob had helped me into my coat every time we were together. How he’d brush his fingers against my neck, dipping them just inside my collar before letting go.
I could take care of myself. Hell, I’d been living on my own since college. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate how Rob always looked out for me. How polite and thoughtful he was. He’d made me feel safe.
Too bad he’d pulled out the rug from under me.
Gregory looked up from his phone. “Shall we have a nightcap? I know this great bar just around the corner—Pendleton’s named it the hottest late night spot in London.”
I sighed.
“You know, I think I’m going to pass,” I said, pasting on a smile. “But thanks for the invite.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Aly
Later That Month
The gates of Buckingham Palace silently opened. Waving to the security guards at the back gate, I maneuvered my car up the brick driveway. Dozens of cars were already parked along the edges of the drive; I had to stop, pulling over, to let another car pass.
It was Kit’s birthday—he turned thirty five today. Emily was throwing a “smallish” party for him at Buckingham. It’d be low key—it was a Thursday night—mostly just their friends and families.
Which meant Rob was going to be there. Emily had warned me in advance. I’d waved away her concern. Yeah, I still dreamed about him. Still missed him so much I couldn’t breathe sometimes. No matter how many dates I went on—no matter how cute the guy was, or charming, or funny—I’d always end up comparing him to Rob.
And he always, always fell short.
But I had to remind myself that while Greg or Harry or Keith wasn’t as thoughtful as Rob, or as interesting, he had yet to pull a stunt like Rob’s. He hadn’t hurt me the way Rob had.
Even so, I wasn’t interested in seeing any of them beyond the second date. I’d learned my lesson with Philip. If the chemistry wasn’t there, you couldn’t force it.
I glanced in the rearview mirror, checking my lipstick. So I’d see Rob tonight. Big deal. It’d been a couple months. I’d avoided reading any news about him, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’d probably moved on by now. One girl? More than that?
Did it even matter? He was wrong for me. He’d proved that not once, but twice.
Still, I may or may not have worn this short, sexy LBD on purpose. Aided by a pair of sky-high black sandals, it showed a lot of leg. A lot.
I pulled up to the stone portico at the back of the palace, where a small army of valets was waiting. I put my car in park behind a shiny black Volvo.
And then I nearly had a heart attack when I watched none other than Prince Robert climb out of the driver’s seat, handing the valet his key fob before buttoning the top button of his crisply tailored suit jacket.
He turned his head. Caught me staring. His eyes simultaneously lit up and darkened, somehow, when they met mine. My pulse roared.
In his charcoal grey suit and mussed hair, he looked good enough to eat.
A valet opened my door. I stepped out into the summer air, muggy and warm from the recent rain.
“A Volvo?” I said to Rob, nodding at his car. It was a sexy sedan, granted, with blacked out windows and racy looking rims. But it was still a Volvo. “What happened to the Range Rover?”
Rob put his hands in the pockets of his trousers and shrugged. “Wanted to try something different. I’d heard the new Volvos were pretty nice, so I checked them out. I admit I was impressed.”
I stared at him. He was talking about that comment I’d made about Volvos the night we’d cruised the Thames—the new ones are actually really nice.
He stared back. A glint in his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
His gaze flicked to my legs, just for a second. Just long enough for me to feel it running up my thighs. As potent and arousing as a physical caress. I shivered. Swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat. Seeing him again like this—it was overwhelming.
“So are you,” he replied. “Cold?”
Quite the opposite.
I shook my head. “Should we head inside?”
He held out his elbow. I stared at it. Not one minute in, and he was already being polite. Cute. Thoughtful.
The opposite of the careless, impulsive guy who’d showed up at my door at six A.M.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I just figured in those shoes…I can wait out here if you want to go in alone—”
I curled my fingers inside the crook of his elbow. I could feel the muscles in his arm flexing as he cradled my hand against his torso.
“Thank you.”
Neither of us said a word as Rob led me into the palace and up a flight of stairs to a drawing room. It was filled with people, some familiar, most not. I smiled when I heard the strains of a Justin Bieber song. It may have been Kit’s birthday, but this was definitely Em’s party.
Immediately Rob was greeted by some cousin or another, followed in quick succession by a trio of very pretty girls.
Dropping his elbow, I slipped away. Em smiled when she saw me approaching.
“Hi, friend,” she said, taking my hands. “How are you? Work going okay?”
People were always asking me some iteration of that question. Are you okay? I hadn’t known I’d worn my heart so obviously on my sleeve. Did I really look so miserable? So exhausted and fragile?
Heat flooded my cheeks. I nodded. “Things are busy, but really, really great. We finally wrapped up the Pearce project. Stallings Castle will be in the September issue of Architectural Digest.”
“That’s a big deal.” Emily’s smile deepened. “I’m so proud of you, Aly. You’re killing it. I always knew you would.”
I put a hand on her growing belly. “I’m proud of you. This little one still giving you grief?”
“She’s always giving me grief,” Em replied.
“Wait.” My heart skipped a beat. “It’s a she?”
Em clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to tell”
“Oh my God!” I wanted to jump up and down screaming—a future Queen! How exciting was that?—but I managed to keep my voice to a loud whisper. “Congratulations!”
Emily’s smile was so big and so joyful it made my eyes prick with tears.
“Thanks.” She leaned in. “Between you and me, I was hoping for a girl. A healthy baby first, of course. But if I got to pick—”
“A girl all day long.” I pulled her into a hug.
Kit tapped Emily on the shoulder not long after. He apologized for interrupting, but some friend or another of his was waiting to say hello.
I headed for the bar. I admit I glanced around, looking for Rob. The girls who’d greeted him at the door were in a far corner now. He wasn’t with them.
I imagined I felt the heat of his gaze on me. But I’d felt hot—and cold—and hot—ever since I’d stepped out of my car and saw him next to his Volvo.
I looked up. And there he was, standing at the bar. His eyes on me. My breath caught. There was nothing lascivious about the way he was looking. No smirk. No cockiness.
Rob was just looking at me like he missed me.
Like I was the only girl in the room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Wate
r? Soda? I know you have to work tomorrow. Em told me business at EP Designs is booming.”
I stared at him. Again. I thought about that night at Primrose Palace when Kit and Em had asked us to be in the wedding. Rob had been all swagger, talking me into a cocktail even though I hadn’t really wanted one.
Now, though—now he was being considerate. Thoughtful.
Longing ripped through me. I looked away.
“A Diet Coke would be great, thanks,” I said.
He ordered one for himself, too.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said, handing me my drink. “But I know you asked that I leave you alone, so…” He loosened his first finger from around his glass. “I’ll head over there.”
I glanced in that direction. “What’s over there?”
“A spot on the sofa. And probably another boring conversation with one of my aunts.”
I laughed. “Birthday parties in your thirties aren’t quite as exciting as they are in your twenties, that’s for sure.”
“Honestly, I don’t mind it,” he said, meeting my eyes as he sipped his Coke. “My cousins can be jackasses. I feel sorry for my aunts that they have to put up with them.”
“What about putting up with you?” I teased.
Rob grinned. “Part of the reason why I try to talk to my aunts so often. Making up for past sins.”
“Ah. Probably have a long ways to go then.”
“A very long ways,” he said. “But a journey of a thousand miles—”
I smiled. “—Begins with a single step.”
“Yes.” Rob took another sip. He was nervous, too. “Speaking of journeys. Have you been able to explore London a bit more yet?”
I nodded. “A bit, yeah. I feel like you could live here for decades and still not see everything. I love the museums especially—The Victoria and Albert is at the top of my list. Haven’t made it over there yet, but I plan to soon.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. The V&A is a lovely spot—we work with them often at the foundation.”
An awkward pause. My heart was beating so loudly in my ears I was surprised the sound didn’t fill the room.
“Well.” Rob straightened. “I’ll let you be. Lovely chatting.”
Looking at him, I didn’t want him to go yet. Yes, I’d told him to leave me alone. But I couldn’t resist him when he was being so damn wonderful.
I couldn’t help but enjoy his company.
Before he could turn away, I put a hand on his arm. I scrambled to think of something to say. Anything. I just wanted to keep him here for a little bit longer. Just until my heart stopped jumping around in my chest.
“Why the Volvo?” I asked. “Really.”
His brows shot up. I don’t know what surprised him more—my touch or my question.
Pink crept into his cheeks. “Because, Aly. It reminds me of you.”
We exchanged a look. A breathless, meaningful look.
“Also has a five-star crash rating. Great features too—pop up booster seat in the back, TV screens in the headrests for cartoons.”
Now I was really staring. “Booster seats?”
His eyes softened. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
“Who the fuck are you,” I said under my breath. “And what have you done with the royal rebel?”
He ran his tongue between his lips. Those freaking lips. “I know you don’t want me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to be the sort of forever bloke you want to be with.” Rob hesitated when I shook my head, making my hair fall in my face. Like he was trying very hard not to reach out and tuck it behind my ear. “You’ve ruined me for every other girl, Aly. You’ve blown my standards to smithereens. Now I only want you. And if I can’t have you, then I want someone like you who demands more from me. Someone excellent who wants the world. Because I want that too, Aly. I want the family that comes with the family car. The real deal.”
My throat was tightening again. I blinked back tears.
I wanted to hate him. After everything he’d done…how could I forgive the way he’d left me? The way he’d swept back into my life, unannounced and unwelcome, expecting us to pick up where we’d left off?
I was trying to hate him. Trying to move on already.
But here he was, standing before me in a soul-crushingly handsome package—everything I’d ever wanted. Rob was offering me everything.
I just wasn’t sure that this was who he really was. Permanently, I mean. Yeah, he was playing the forever guy tonight. But who’s to say he wouldn’t fuck that up tomorrow? He may have been thoughtful, but he was inconstant.
Why did I still want him like this then?
I set down my drink. I was shaking. Hard.
“I have to go,” I managed. “I’m sorry.”
Hurrying out of the room, I felt his eyes on me. As hurt and hot as I felt.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aly
Later That Night
I stared at my bedroom ceiling, watching shadows move across the ceiling as headlights passed outside my window. It had to be well past midnight. I’d been trying to fall asleep since ten. I was so exhausted I couldn’t move. And somehow wide awake.
Robert. I imagined he was here in my bed. I imagined I hadn’t run from the party tonight, and instead had slipped my hand around his lapel and asked him to come home with me. We’d made love right there on my living room floor the second the door closed. Then we’d cried—and laughed—over the cold leftovers from last night’s takeout. He’d said he loved me.
I’d said it back. Because I believed him. Rob would never get the guarantee that he wouldn’t turn out like Alexander. Just like I’d never get the guarantee that Rob wouldn’t disappoint me again.
I needed to take my own advice and have some Goddamned faith. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe I’d get hurt. But the alternative—being so scared that I stayed in the same place, always—seemed much worse.
I blinked, coming back to the present. I swallowed. Then I grabbed my phone and typed out a text and sent it to Rob, my heart pounding all the while. I didn’t know what it meant or what I intended or what I hoped would happen.
I just knew I had to tell him. Because I couldn’t bear the loneliness on my own anymore.
I miss you.
Rob
I read the three words over and over again until they swam inside my head. My pulse even began to beat in time to them. I. Miss. You.
I considered calling her right then and there. I considered replying to her text with some long-winded confession about how I wanted her so badly it had taken over my life.
What I really wanted to do was hop in my new car and invite myself into her flat and make love to her until next week. But I’d already made the mistake of showing up unannounced.
I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
Instead, I’d make a grand but thoughtful gesture. At least I hoped to. This was my last chance. I wouldn’t bungle it by rushing or giving in to impulse. As practical as Aly could be, she had a real appreciation for romance. A need for it. Not only had she told me so outright; I’d seen it dozens of times. How she’d blushed the night of Kit and Em’s engagement party when she’d caught me looking at her. How she’d blushed again when I’d caught her looking at me. How her eyes lit up when she took in the stars as we cruised the River Thames. The way her whole being softened—mood and mouth and cunt—in the warm dark water of the Caribbean.
After Aly’d left me standing at the bar earlier tonight, I’d rung up my private secretary, who then connected me to the director of the Victoria & Albert museum. I’d apologized profusely for bothering her so late, but would she be so kind as to consider opening up the forthcoming ‘History of the Dress’ exhibit a few days early for a private tour?
I’d intended that the tour be for Aly and Aly alone. I’d meant to keep my distance, like I’d promised I would. But her text (hopefully) changed everything.
Check your email, I texted Aly. Hope you can make it.
&nb
sp; I waited with bated breath for her to reply. Finally:
Oh my God Rob this looks amazing! You’re coming, right?
I let that breath out. Allowed myself a small smile as I typed my response.
Fuck yes.
Aly
The Next Evening
I’d left the office with barely a minute to spare. Hopping on the Tube, I checked my watch about a million times, praying I wouldn’t be late.
It wasn’t every Friday night I got invited to a private tour of The Victoria and Albert’s newest exhibit. Rob hadn’t said what the exhibit was in his email. I’d meant to Google it, but today had been my new assistant’s first day at EP Designs. That, on top of the usual pile of emails, paperwork, and proposals I had to get through, meant I’d hardly had time to pee, much less to dick around on the internet.
Holding on to the handrail above my head, I lurched sideways when the train skidded to a stop. A woman jabbed me in the ribs, trying to get to the doors before they closed.
Ah, the Tube.
But even the Friday night commute—crowded and smelly—couldn’t put a damper on my excitement. I was excited for the exhibit, sure. But really I was excited to see Rob. I hoped it was just the two of us.
I smiled. Gripped the handrail a little tighter. Closed my eyes and sent up another prayer. This one was all about gratitude. Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting Rob be my date tonight. Thank you.
Even if he wasn’t my date—honestly, I didn’t know what he was at this point—at least I wasn’t out with another Gregory. Another Philip. Another guy I wanted to like but didn’t. For the first Friday night in a while, I was going exactly where I wanted to go with exactly who I wanted to be with. I didn’t have to force myself to go. Force conversation or feelings.
It made me feel light as air. My first impulse was to fight that feeling. Question it. But I was too tired to fight it, for one thing. For another, I didn’t really want to. Maybe tonight would be great. Maybe it’d be a bust. Either way, I didn’t want to waste it by fixating on the past or worrying about the future. Right now, I was happy. And I’d stick to that feeling like glue for as long as I could.
Royal Rebel: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Flings With Kings) Page 20
