Dirty Player: An International Alphas Romance

by Lula Baxter

  “He just took me on a tour of the Riviera. Sightseeing is all.”

  I see Alexandre smirk at me with amusement. I return a warning glare.

  “Sightseeing,” she echoes, completely unimpressed. “Does he know you’re engaged?”

  I feel the heat come to my cheeks, most of it isn’t from guilt or embarrassment, but resentment. My mother has no idea what Bruce is really like.

  “No, because it isn’t relevant. I had fun and we are on our way back now, so you can call off the cavalry.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting testy with me, Astrid. You have no idea what it’s been like the past few hours not knowing where you were or what had—”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I say, feeling guilty for the first time. “I just needed…space.”

  I hear her sigh on the other end. “I get it. I know you’d rather be here with your friends instead of your old fuddy-duddy mother.”

  “That’s not true. I love being with you, and I’m looking forward to seeing Dad. I’ll be back in less than an hour and we can get ready for tonight, okay?”

  She gives a heavy, aggrieved sigh. “Alright then. I’ll see you soon, Astrid.” The last part is in a tone that informs me I’m not allowed any other surprise detours for the day.

  Why does twenty-one have to be that weird middle ground where you’re technically an adult, but your parents still treat you like you need minding? On the other hand, if I had a daughter who had just run off for the day with a strange man, to do god knows what, in the middle of the Mediterranean, I’d be worried too.

  “See you soon, Mom. Bye.”

  I hang up and give Alexandre a look that says, “don’t even.” He just laughs and shrugs, then turns on the engine.

  “Are we in trouble?”

  “You’ll be fine. You don’t have to deal with my mother upon our return.”

  He laughs again and speeds off, back to Monte Carlo.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexandre

  The best.

  That’s how she described her father. The look on her face when she talked about him is something I can’t let go of. She truly does think he’s a good man. I wonder how much she really knows about her father and his plans for Hawthorne Pharmaceuticals.

  The funding she mentioned was interesting, mostly in the way she said it rather than the news itself, as if she didn’t approve somehow. Anyone who is even remotely tuned-in to the industry knows that the company has money coming in soon. All the better to expand and become even more profitable.

  The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

  A smile comes to my face. Usually, that smile gives me a rush of adrenaline. Today I can feel a hint of ambivalence tainting it. I’m even more curious to meet this Edgar Hawthorne when he arrives tonight.

  I turn to look at Astrid as the wind blows her wet hair around her face. She looks even more beautiful in this disheveled state than she did sitting prettily at the bar this morning. I briefly wonder if there could be something more between us, even after….

  Don’t be foolish.

  Once the game of cat and mouse is over, I move on, seeking out the next target. No emotions. No commitments. Most of the time, the parties involved have no idea what happened…until it’s too late.

  I’m so deep into my thoughts that I miss a particularly large wave and we go flying over it, reaching a precarious height. Astrid laughs with exhilarated pleasure, assuming that I did it on purpose.

  “I’m surprised the boat didn’t break on impact with that one,” she shouts, still laughing.

  Her enjoyment is infectious and a smile slowly comes to my face. “I like to live dangerously,” I reply, giving her a wicked grin.

  The smile disappears as I face forward again, focusing on the water around us now that we are getting closer to Monte Carlo and much larger vessels. As one of the smaller crafts on the sea, and one with a motor as well, I have an obligation to yield to them, which makes sense considering the wake most of them leave. Another wave like that and our boat might very well break on impact. I slow the boat down and the noise of the engine softens.

  “You know, you never answered the question about what you do for a living?” she asks out of the blue.

  I turn to her with a sharp look, wondering if there was something in my face that gave me away. I quickly recover when I see nothing more than idle curiosity in her expression.

  “I believe you hit the nail on the head with international man of intrigue,” I tease with a seductive smile.

  She just laughs. “Seducing young American girls on vacation to learn all the top secrets we hold, I suppose?”

  “Once again, my cover is blown!”

  “Does that mean you have to assassinate me now?” she prods with a sly grin.

  “I prefer to seduce you into becoming a double agent. You’d be the perfect agent provocateur. Did you think it was coincidence, my running into you today?”

  “And what kinds of secrets would I be seducing men for?” she asks, leaning in closer to me with a grin.

  Although running into her was pure coincidence, we’re getting too close to the truth for me to continue this little verbal spar.

  “On second thought, I think I would keep you for myself. You are too precious a commodity to risk out in the field.”

  “So now I’m a commodity, am I?” She raises one eyebrow.

  I reach out a hand to caress her cheek and look down at her with a smile. As worldly as she aches to be, she’s still so innocent. I can already picture the eventual effect everything I’m about to do will have on her. I briefly consider putting a stop to the wheels that are already in motion. Then, the usual darkness falls over me as I remember the reasons why I do what I do.

  I’m sorry, Astrid.

  “You’re more precious than you know,” I say with a soft smile.

  There must be something in my voice or expression that hinted at something beyond playful banter. She pulls away and looks at me curiously for a moment before turning her eyes to the water around us.

  If Astrid ever learned the truth, she’d hate me forever.

  “Careful,” I say, holding one of Astrid’s hands as she steps out of the boat onto the dock.

  Once she’s got a secure footing, I deftly follow her.

  “So, did you enjoy yourself on my little boat?”

  She responds with a tinkling sort of laugh that sends a cloud of euphoria to my head. “Yes, Alexandre. I had a wonderful time on your little boat.”

  She stares at me for a moment with her face in a half squint. Then she lifts herself up on her toes and plants a kiss on my cheek, which causes me to blink in surprise. It’s so chaste, considering everything we’ve done today.

  “I should get going,” she says, suddenly flustered as she pulls away. “I hate to just go like this but….”

  “No apologies needed,” I say, laughing lightly. “Days like these should be nothing more than brief, fond memories.”

  She smiles with a mixture of relief and admiration. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  She lifts up to peck me on the cheek once again then spins around to fly away. I watch her run down the docks, her white dress flying behind her. I cement it in my brain as the last happy memory I’ll have of her.

  When we meet again tonight, she may not be quite as pleased to see me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Astrid

  “I won’t tell your father about your little adventure today with that man, who isn’t your fiancé, by the way,” my mother says, not even looking at me as we ride down in the elevator to the lobby of the hotel we’re staying at. The entire afternoon has been nothing but reproving comments and threatening reminders.

  “Why wouldn’t you? It was a simple boat ride with a local who wanted to show a tourist a good time.” I try to sound as nonchalant as possible, but I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks when I think about what that ‘good time’ involved. Another part of me also heats up. Perhaps it’s best
she doesn’t tell Dad.

  My mother just responds with a snort of disapproval.

  There’s a strict dress code in the restaurant where we’re eating with Dad tonight. I spent almost an hour in the shower scrubbing my body and washing and re-washing the salt water out of my hair. Now I’m dressed in a black silk dress that, amazingly enough, highlights the tan I picked up today. I’ve twisted my hair. I think it makes me look sophisticated, especially considering how everyone else in this luxury hotel is dressed. The “formal” dress code is strictly adhered to, especially in the casinos, where all the men are in black tie attire and all the women in formal dresses.

  Since the budget was practically unlimited for our trip, we’ve been staying at only the finest accommodations. Five-star hotels from beginning to end and Monte Carlo is no exception. In fact, considering the average net worth surrounding us, this city may be the ultimate non-exception.

  The mild discomfort I always feel around overt displays of wealth is immediately diminished when I see one shining ray of normalcy in the crowd.

  “Dad!” I exclaim, walking over as fast as my heels will allow.

  He shows absolutely no hint of decorum when he grabs me into his usual bear hug and swings me around. The few disapproving stares we get for being the “ugly Americans” are completely lost on him.

  “Well, aren’t I the lucky guy to be greeted by the two prettiest ladies in Monaco tonight?” he comments, putting me down and beaming at my mother, who has made her way over in a more gracious fashion.

  Even our little display, which I’m sure has secretly mortified her, isn’t enough to keep her from blushing like a teenager as he leans in to kiss her. I’ve always thought of my parents as the ideal couple, as different as they are, personality-wise. They’ve been through so much, with Dad working hard to start his company, while Mom worked as a teacher to support us all. Now that he’s a success, he’s done nothing but spoil the both of us. I can only imagine what that will be like when the funding comes through and Hawthorne Pharmaceuticals expands.

  I stare down at the ring that I placed on my finger as soon as I was sure Alexandre couldn’t see me, back at the marina. These two people standing right by me make this all worth it. At least, I hope so.

  “Well, I hope you two don’t mind me cutting this little reunion short, but I just got here and I’d rather I didn’t smell like a ten-hour flight from Boston,” Dad says, giving us both an apologetic smile. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this suit, as nice as it is, doesn’t quite match the quality of the women who are my dates tonight.”

  “Of course not, dear,” my mother says, giving him a silly smile. “You go and get refreshed. Dinner isn’t for another forty-five minutes. Astrid and I will head to the lounge. I think I need a cocktail.” She turns to me with a forced smile. “We have our own catching up to do.”

  I try to keep from rolling my eyes. I thought we were done with this.

  “Well, that sounds…ominous,” Dad says, looking back and forth between the two of us. “And it also sounds like something I probably do need to get refreshed for.”

  He kisses each of us on the cheek and wisely makes his escape. We both watch him go and then turn on each other.

  “Could you have been a bit more obvious?” I say with exasperation.

  “I thought you didn’t care about me telling him anything,” she says, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “After all, it was just a boat ride with a local.”

  “Maybe a drink is in order. I think I’ll have one too,” I say, turning to head toward the bar.

  “And now my daughter actually likes drinking. What other surprises will I learn about you on this trip?”

  I register only half of what she’s said, mostly because my mind is completely focused on the man in the middle of the lobby staring at me.

  Alexandre.

  My mother is still chattering on until something she says finally breaks through the mental block I’ve used to tune her out. “Isn’t that…?”

  Apparently, she’s just as stunned as I am, watching him as he approaches. He looks nothing like the man I met on that motorcycle today.

  My heart actually does a little cartwheel in my chest. I know it’s not from the concern about having to actually introduce him to my mother. I just never thought I’d see him again and now that I am I can’t help the smile that comes to my face.

  Then I follow his gaze as it drops down—right to my left hand.

  “Astrid,” he says, taking that hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. As he kisses my knuckles for the second time today, his green eyes go a shade darker as they stare at me over the dazzling emerald surrounded by diamonds.

  My chest rises and falls rapidly, unable to give me enough air to breathe out a reply greeting.

  “I’m Astrid’s mother.” My mother says pointedly, breaking our spell. “Helen Hawthorne.”

  Alexandre is quick to pull away and meet her with a smile that actually sends a bit of color to her cheeks. “Forgive my manners. Alexandre Richmont,” he says, taking her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles as well. That makes the color in her face deepen about two shades.

  “Well, I hardly recognized you from the picture Astrid sent me. You look quite different in a tuxedo. Of course, I didn’t have a full name to put to the face, until now.” She makes a point of giving me a raised eyebrow as she says it.

  I realize that up until now, I didn’t even know his last name. I take in how well he wears that tuxedo, which is obviously custom made to fit him perfectly. He looks just as at ease in it as he did in the t-shirt and jeans. I realize that there is a lot I don’t know about Alexandre Richmont.

  “Well, there is a dress code,” he says smoothly, releasing her hand.

  Now that she’s free of the momentary effect he’s had on her, she’s quick to recover. “I noticed you eyeing my daughter’s engagement ring.” Maybe too quick to recover.

  Alexandre takes my hand again, lifting it up so the light from the chandeliers in the lobby hits it at just the right angle for it to sparkle to the point of blindness. I suck in a breath that remains stuck in my chest.

  “Yes, I was,” he says, returning his attention to me, holding my eyes hostage once again. “It’s an Ardant, no?”

  My mother blinks in surprise. It’s enough to cause even me to exhale the breath I thought would never leave.

  “You’re familiar with the brand?” she asks, considering him with a mixture of reserved awe and suspicion.

  “I’m good friends with the owner,” he says, his gaze still on me.

  I actually feel the ice surrounding my mother melt as she hears this bit of information.

  “Is that so?” she asks with deceptively idle curiosity. “And how is it that you came to know the owner of Ardant Jewelers?”

  The barest hint of a smile ghosts across his face. He knows she’s fishing. This morning he was a nobody, now he may even beat out the Campbells in terms of importance.

  I’m just as surprised as my mother. The man riding that motorcycle in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt, whisking me off on his “little boat,” has been replaced by a suave, tuxedoed member of the elite, who could probably give James Bond himself a run for his money when it comes to wit and charm.

  Who the hell are you Alexandre?

  I just want him to let go of me. His fingertips feel like flames licking at my hand as he keeps it held in his. That’s nothing compared to the heavy ring that might as well be a ball of fire on my third finger—the one that was ringless all day.

  “We play squash together,” Alexandre says, finally dropping my hand and turning to my mother with another charming smile. “It can get quite competitive.”

  I can almost see the thaw continuing to melt the icy wall of suspicion she’s built up. It never ceases to amaze me how easily money can create trust in most people. Odd, considering some of the biggest crooks in the world are the wealthiest. Any hint of chill remaining in my mother is immediately evaporat
ed by his next words.

  “In a way, without him, I wouldn’t be part owner of this beautiful hotel you and your lovely daughter are guests at. He was the one to lend me the money.”

  It’s almost comical the way Mom presses her hand to her chest, completely breathless. She actually looks as though she’s about to faint as her chest expands and contracts.

  I’m completely thrown as well. This new image of Alexandre is nothing like the man I met back at the bar on the marina. That man was rebellious and daring, the kind of man you sneak out of bedroom windows to hook up with. This man almost perfectly fits the image of that international man of intrigue he teased me about back on the boat.

  “Well, that’s…” she blinks her eyes at him, struggling as she tries to figure out what to say.

  I mentally dare Alexandre to say something smart or sarcastic or any way insulting. I may judge my mother’s snobbish ways, but that’s the prerogative of a daughter. I’ve seen too many members of the upper crust she’s climbed her way into, snicker at her behind her back. I’ll be damned if I’m going to put up with it from a perfect stranger. And no one is more of a stranger than this man in front of me, the one who is so vastly different from the one I thought I knew.

  “That’s very impressive for someone who seems so young,” she says finally.

  Alexandre raises one eyebrow and gives her a devilish grin. “Why madame, I’m sure I have you beat by at least a good five years or so.”

  I mentally roll my eyes. He was far more sophisticated and witty on his “little boat” this morning. But it somehow does the trick with my mother.

  “Oh…” she laughs with a flustered air, her guilty smile giving away the fact that she’s actually…flattered? I watch the slow creep of pink reach her cheeks again, making her look like she’s a high school freshman being noticed by the homecoming king.

  “I see you are both dressed for dinner. I must insist you join me tonight as my guest.”