Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5)

by Blair Babylon

  Black ink curled around the tops of his shoulders and over his ribs from the massive tattoo on his back.

  Dree had seen him starkers before, obviously, but she had to admit the man was packed with strong, hard muscle. The vee of his Adonis belt that pointed to where he clutched the pillow was the kind of carved meat that made women stupid. Plus, with striated thighs and bulging calves like that, the man did not skip leg day.

  Masses of luxurious black curls obscured the face of the lithe woman crawling over the mattress toward him, but she wore bright red, lace lingerie and scarlet stiletto sandals.

  A thick silk robe lay on the carpeting at Dree’s feet.

  Maxence caught his breath when he saw Dree standing in the doorway. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  The woman on the bed flipped her long hair back over her shoulder and rose to her knees. She was slim to the point where Dree, a licensed nurse practitioner, worried about undiagnosed anorexia nervosa.

  Oh, but Dree knew this chick.

  Marie-Therese Grimaldi said, “Oh, look, Maxence. It’s your little admin, Dree Clark. I wonder what she’s doing in your apartment in the middle of the night, again.”

  Max said, “I swear to God, Dree. This is not what it looks like.”

  Considering Maxence’s defensive posture and Marie-Therese’s predatory one, Dree had a pretty good idea of what was going on. “Jesus, Marie-Therese. This is gross. He’s your first cousin. Your dads are brothers. If you screwed him, you’d have babies with three heads.”

  Marie-Therese said to Max, “This is absolutely none of the staff’s business.”

  Dree drew herself up to every inch she could muster, which wasn’t a whole lot but she wasn’t a shrimpy. “I may look like a simple admin to you, Lady Marie-Therese, but I am His Highness Prince Maxence’s personal assistant.” She turned to Max. “Your Serene Highness, this woman is not on your schedule at this time. As keeper of your schedule, shall I remove her?”

  Maxence said, “Lady Grimaldi was just leaving.”

  Dree scooped up the robe at her feet and held it open. “My lady, if you please. Prince Maxence’s schedule does not accommodate unscheduled appointments.”

  Marie-Therese looked back and forth between the two of them, flummoxed by their officious display, but they both kept it up believably enough that she had to go along with it. She stomped over to where Dree was holding the robe for her, at least as much as she could stomp in those chopstick-heels she was wearing, snatched the silk out of Dree’s hand, and whirled it around her as she walked out of the bedroom.

  Dree followed her into the living room to make sure Marie-Therese got out the door safely and that it was locked behind her.

  Marie-Therese shot back at Maxence, “Rubbing one out on your secretary is just pathetic.”

  Dree opened the door and held it for her. “I assure you that His Serene Highness is not sexually harassing me nor any of the other staff members. I’m wearing business formal, not lingerie.”

  Marie-Therese had walked outside the apartment’s door, but she turned back. “I don’t know what you thought you had in Nepal with him, but this is Monaco.”

  Dree looked up at Marie-Therese, who was still astonishingly beautiful even when she was snarling-mad. She said, “Oh, honey, I’m good country folk, but that is some hillbilly stuff, right there. Trolling for dates at the family reunion just ain’t smart.”

  Dree flicked the door closed in Marie-Therese’s face and twisted the lock until it clicked hard.

  She strolled back to his bedroom.

  Maxence wasn’t in the room. She called out, “Max?”

  He leaned out of the adjoining bathroom, where he had a toothbrush stuck in his mouth.

  “Wow, you have got some relative problems,” Dree told him.

  He leaned back into the bathroom. Spitting sounds ensued, and then he said, “I texted you. I was waiting for you. I left the door unlocked for you.”

  “I have a key.”

  “And this one time Marie-Therese decides to slip into my bed, the damn door was unlocked.”

  He came back to the bedroom, still clutching his toothbrush.

  Dree asked him, “So, is your cousin a good kisser?”

  Maxence froze and then stuffed the toothbrush back in his mouth and scrubbed his teeth ferociously. Foam dripped down his arm.

  His toothbrush bent from the pressure and snapped in half.

  He stared at the broken handle in his fist and spat the brush head into his other hand.

  She laughed at him. “It’s okay, man. I’m just kidding. Take it easy on your gums.”

  Maxence went back in the bathroom and spat foam like he was trying to clear poison from his mouth.

  Gargling sounds followed.

  And then the shower started. Splashing and a long male sigh emerged through the door with the steam.

  Dree sat on the bed and waited.

  He emerged wearing a white towel tucked tightly around his waist.

  “You okay?” she asked him.

  Maxence rolled his eyes and shrugged. “That was revolting.”

  “Do you need to talk to somebody?”

  He shook his head, shrugging, and walked over to sit beside her on the bed. “I’m not traumatized, just offended. It’s like, you think you’re in the movie Fifty Shades of Grey, but then it turns out you’re in hentai.”

  Dree snorted. “What the heck was she even doing here, anyway?”

  He dropped his head to his hands. “I have no idea why she did this. I thought it would be amusing if you crawled into bed and found me already naked, but I was tired and drifted off. Then, a woman was kissing me, and I was still fogged with sleep, and it took me a minute to figure out my cousin was trying to seduce me.” He sighed. “It’s weird when your cousin grabs your dick.”

  Dree shook her head. “It is weird. It’s not like this is the eighteen-hundreds, and if her father discovered her in your bed, you’d be obliged to marry her. And she’s your cousin.”

  “Right? The House of Grimaldi is not inbred, like the rest of the European royal families are, because we didn’t marry our cousins. They have all sorts of recessive genetic diseases that we don’t. Royal hemophilia took down more than one royal house.”

  Dree leaned back on her hands, the duvet soft under her palms. “This is like a Shakespearean play. Shakespeare always had people hopping into bed with the wrong person and getting caught.”

  He nodded. “The bed-trick was one of his most common plot elements. Let’s hope that we’re in one of his comedies and not in a Shakespearean tragedy, where everyone ends up dead at the end.”

  “You don’t think she just wanted to sleep with a priest, do you? Some women like the forbidden.”

  Maxence sighed hard. “I’ll text her tomorrow and see what she was thinking, but I don’t want to be in a room alone with her.”

  Dree rubbed his arm briskly. “You’ll be okay, buddy. I’ll make sure your horny cousin doesn’t get handsy with you again.”

  He chuckled. “If that is Marie-Therese’s plan, I’m going to need to station security personnel around my bed while I sleep.”

  “But then I wouldn’t be able to sneak in.”

  He put his arm around her and nuzzled her ear. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to find another solution.”

  “Yeah, this sneaking around is kinda hot.”

  Max chuckled. His very minty breath fluttered her hair over her neck and tickled. “And yet, I admit that I am looking forward to settling someone else as the sovereign prince of Monaco, so I can finally abdicate, be laicized, and go on with my life.”

  “What are you going to do after that, though?”

  Maxence’s warm lips touched her ear, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, “Run my charities,” as he wrapped his arm more closely around her. “Decide where and how to run projects for them. Even though I won’t be a priest, I can still do fieldwork. The clerical collar gave me some protection, I admi
t, but my organization would still be associated with Catholic Charities.”

  Dree turned on the bed and put her arms around his shoulders. “I mean, what are you going to do for money? If you’re not going to be the prince and you’re not going to be a priest, don’t you have to get a job?”

  He shrugged with a laugh. “My immediate family has private sources of wealth, chérie. It was acknowledged I would not inherit the throne because Pierre was the heir apparent, so they financed a trust fund for me before I was born. And now, as the last surviving member of my immediate family, I’ve inherited Pierre’s portion plus my own. I’m disgustingly wealthy. Billionaires hoard wealth and capital. I assure you, I’m definitely still part of the problem.”

  Dree nodded. “Okay, that makes sense.”

  His dark eyes creased at the corners as he smiled. “And after the Sea Change Gala tomorrow night, I will call a Council of Nobles meeting within days. After that, I’m done. I’ll probably stay on for six months as a consultant, and I can be with you. We can do what we want.”

  Dree twisted to look at him. “So your cousin Nico will be the prince, then.” She’d been taking notes at all the meetings in the office.

  Maxence nodded, the smile on his face almost turning into a grin. “I think he’ll do it. After the Sea Change Gala tomorrow night, I’ll know for sure. I promised him I’d stick around to make sure he gets settled into the job, but it will be his job, not mine. I’ll act as an advisor.”

  “And then what?” she asked, straddling his legs with her thighs. Cool air sneaked under her skirt and brushed her bare under-there.

  Maxence wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her against his bare chest more tightly. “And then you and I can sneak away, and the world will never hear of us again. We can do fieldwork for my charities, or we can buy an apartment in New York City or Paris or Geneva and run the organization while we attend parties and balls and lounge all day in bed. We’ll spend holidays with my friends and their wives, either Casimir in Los Angeles or Arthur in London.”

  “Wow, Maxence,” she said. “I didn’t know you were that serious.” This conversation kind of freaked her out and kind of made her all melty, like sheep’s cheese in the oven. When Francis had talked about getting engaged, he’d never talked about how their lives would be. Plus, he’d only hinted at getting engaged after Dree had thrown down an ultimatum because they’d been living together out of wedlock for six months.

  He asked, “Would you prefer a new, bespoke engagement ring or one that’s been in the family for generations? My grandmother’s engagement ring is available. It’s a ten-caret Cartier ring with two side stones.”

  “Is that . . . too big?” Dree asked. “I’ve never looked at diamond rings other than to cut them off of people’s mangled fingers in the ER.”

  “It’s pretty big,” Maxence said. “I think it should do nicely, but I’d better grab it while I’m still the heir apparent.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’ll get it out of the vaults tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re assuming a lot,” Dree laughed. “You haven’t even asked me yet.”

  “I’m the Pirate King,” Maxence said, smirking at her. “I get everything I want.”

  “Right. Kids?” Dree asked.

  Maxence’s smile widened so much that he blinked. “Kids, yes. But we shouldn’t send them to Le Rosey. A day school would be appropriate.”

  Horror struck Dree. “Oh, God, no. I’m not shipping off my rugrats to some rich-kid warehouse. Who would milk the sheep in the morning?”

  Maxence nodded sagely. “Precisely.”

  “Can I still be a nurse?” she asked, wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck.

  “You can do anything you want, chérie,” he said, rubbing his hands over her calves alongside his thighs. “We can do anything we want. You could take a job in a New York hospital, or you can use your expertise to run a nurse’s outreach program through my charitable endeavors.”

  Dree was having too much fun just dreaming up all this silliness with Maxence. “But what if I find someone who’s hotter and richer than you are and run off?”

  Maxence chuckled and flipped her across his lap, butt up. “Then I’ll track you down and spank your little bottom until it’s pink.”

  He popped a quick swat on her ass, a sharp crack that didn’t hurt so much as promised he knew precisely what he was doing.

  Dree squealed because it seemed like the proper thing to do when a hot guy gave you a sexy spanking.

  “As a matter of fact,” he said, inching her skirt up her legs, “I’m going to take your panties off and give you a bare-bottom spanking right now because you have been a naughty girl.”

  “Have I?”

  “I’m sure you were at some point.”

  As cool air inched up her thighs, Dree remembered something. “Uh, surprise!”

  His voice dropped to a bass rumble. “Oh, my naughty little chérie, what have we here?”

  His huge hand palmed her naked ass.

  “Yeah, well,” she said, “I didn’t expect to come up here and find another woman in your bed.”

  He massaged her ass cheek, gripping her flesh. “This is always a delightful surprise, but it’s very naughty of you to walk around the castle with no panties on, you naughty little secretary.”

  “Uh, I’m just pretending to be your secretary. I’m a medical professional.”

  “Naughty, naughty little secretary,” he repeated, his voice even lower. “Do you know what royal princes do with naughty little secretaries?”

  “Chase them around the desk? Because I’d just stand there and let you catch me.”

  “It starts with a bare-bottom spanking.”

  “I think you have a thing about that.”

  Crack.

  “Ouch!” she squeaked. His second spank on her other ass cheek stung more than the first. It was still within the realm of fun, though.

  He massaged her butt cheek again, rubbing the twinge away. “You remember your safe words?”

  Oh, he was going to get that kinky, huh? “Code blue for slow down. Code black means stop.”

  “Good.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding along the bottom of her ass and around to the inside of her thigh.

  Dree pushed herself up on her arms and twisted to look back at her own butt. “What are you doing back there?”

  Maxence moved her legs apart, pushing one off the edge of his knee. “Whatever I want to.”

  She braced her toes of that dangling leg on the floor so she wouldn’t topple off his lap. Her thighs were spread open, and considering that she was face-down, so was her ass. “Yeah, but are you going to—”

  He ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh and lightly brushed her folds, then pressed inside to drag his fingertip.

  “Oh, wow.”

  Dree thought it was kind of weird to compare what guys were like in the sack, but there was a difference. Her ex, Francis, had always had the same game, moving through the perfunctory stations of foreplay. Francis had always made little comments like wishing her waist was smaller or her tummy was flatter, like she didn’t measure up to his idea of what a woman should look like. Having sex with Francis felt like stuffing a protein bar in her mouth because she was hungry.

  Maxence was decadent. He was the whole meal and dessert and fine, fine wine.

  The way Max trailed his fingers over the skin of her ass and teased her, barely grazing the tip of her and then smacking her ass again—

  “Ow!”

  —suggested they could do this for hours, until dawn if they wanted to, because they could sleep in the next morning and didn’t have a job to get to, ever. Sex was play to him. It was a seven-course meal starting with an amuse-bouche and ending with kisses and glances that were light and sweet.

  He was massaging down the backs of her thighs, and Dree rested her forehead on the comforter. Her eyes were barely open because his strong hands kneaded soreness out of her hamstrings that she hadn’t realize
d was there.

  With her hanging over his lap like that, the world looked upside down. Dark wood furniture hung from the ceiling, and the tall bedpost beside her face blocked the bedroom door. The silver chandelier sprung from the ground like a crystalline flower.

  He pressed the heel of his hand slowly up her spine, and his fingers pulsed around the back of her neck.

  Dree’s shoulders lowered and relaxed, and her breathing deepened.

  His fingers pressed inside her, a delicious friction of need.

  He chuckled. “So wet, my naughty, naughty chérie.”

  He rolled her hard nub under the pad of his thumb.

  Languorous pleasure stole through her body. Dree closed her eyes, lost in his touch.

  His other hand smoothed up and down her spine, his fingers reaching into her hair and fisting a handful at the top, promising something rougher later, and then trailing lower over her tailbone with each stroke. His hand petting her lifted away, but Dree was too tranquilized from his methodical seduction to investigate why.

  Two fingers of his other hand still rubbed deep inside her, subtly stroking in and out. His thumb glided over her nub with every stroke.

  After a second, his other hand slid over her ass. One of his fingers, wet now, drew light circles on her asshole.

  Dree’s breath caught in her chest.

  Maxence asked, “Do you have anything to say?”

  Dree rolled her forehead on the mattress, shaking her head no, she didn’t have anything to say.

  Dree’s toe on the floor slipped, and she jabbed her foot down so she wouldn’t fall off Max’s thighs. She grabbed the comforter in front of her face, squeezing the silk in her fists.

  His finger on her asshole became heavier, pressing.

  He said, “Don’t clench inside. Push back against my finger.”

  Dree tried, acutely aware she was a total beginner at this.

  He was careful, and slow, and his other hand maintained its rhythm inside her.

  Slow, sensual pulses consumed her body, flowing over her muscles. It wasn’t a driving rush toward orgasm, but a constant assault on her consciousness.

  With persistence, his finger invaded her asshole, impaling her there, too.