by Lana Love
Royal Arousal
A BBW & Royal Romance
Lana Love
Love Heart Books
Copyright © 2018 Love Heart Books
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without express written permission from the publisher.
Published by Love Heart Books
Want to know about new releases and sales, first?
Sign up for my mailing list!
Subscribers will receive the bonus epilogue for Royal Arousal!
http://eepurl.com/dh59Xr
Also by Lana Love
THE PLAYBOY’S ACTRESS: A VIRGIN & BILLIONAIRE FAKE FIANCEE ROMANCE
He needs a fake fiancée, she needs a better job.
https://www.amazon.com/Playboys-Actress-Billionaire-Fiancee-Romance-ebook/dp/B075CJMZH2/
FLING: A BBW & BILLIONAIRE OFFICE ROMANCE
She wants a fling, he wants forever.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077PRGR5M
To discover all my books, please visit my author page at:
https://www.amazon.com/Lana-Love/e/B078KKRB1T
Finally, thank you so much for reading Royal Arousal! If you enjoy this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Your reviews help let me know what you enjoy or wish was different in my stories, and I appreciate and value your feedback. Thank you!!
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
A Quick Note From Lana
Chapter 1
Sophie
Girl, you need something stronger than coffee to keep you on your feet tonight,” Maggie says. “Better yet, you need a sinfully sexy boy toy!”
I snap my head up and smile wanly at her. It’s true. I’ve been up and moving since seven this morning, and it is now past midnight. Between painting all day and working here at night, I barely have two minutes to just breathe these days. But a boy toy for a little NSA action? Sometimes I wish I was that kind of girl or even had the time for that.
“You got that right. About the coffee, I mean. You know how I am about dating.” I sigh. Maggie is always teasing me about being single and how it’s a crime that I don’t have a boyfriend or, her preference, a string of men to play with. “But, only another hour and then I’m free. And I have tomorrow off from everything, so that will be a blessing.”
Maggie laughs and shakes her head. “Sophie, girl, I know you. You’ll try to relax, then you’ll be looking at your easel, then you’ll paint until it gets dark outside and your stomach cramps because you haven’t eaten in fourteen hours.”
“Yeah.” Maggie does have a point. It’s hard to sit still when you’re working your ass off for a goal. For me, that means working to earn as much as possible so I can get my butt to Italy and the Accademia del Arte in Florence. I’m supposed to be there right now, but I couldn’t afford it since I didn’t land a full scholarship. It’s lucky they agreed to defer my admission for a year, but if I don’t make the down payment next month, my dreams of the Accademia are over. On the plus side, I was able to land a grant for this year, which is financing much of my life right now. But, it’s barely enough to live on, plus with saving up for the Accademia…let’s just say I’ve become a master of frugality.
And I have no idea how I’m going to get the last ten thousand that I need. I’d need to start stripping to even come close to that. I’m hoping for some kind of miracle, either finding a winning lottery ticket or some new grant or something.
“You’ll get there, Sophie. Stop your worrying. You know I’ll help you out, too.”
“Thanks, Maggie. I couldn’t take your money, though. You’ve got your own education to pay for.”
Maggie looks over my shoulder and her expression changes from concern to excitement.
“Ooh, here we go. Flirt with these idiots and we might land a fat tip.”
I hear the customers she’s eyeing before I turn to look at them.
“Oh, shit. Really?”
It’s a bunch of douchebags in tuxes, obviously coming to Drip Drip Café because they’re slumming after some party. But, Maggie is right. If we play our cards right, one of us might walk away with a fat tip.
“Okay,” she says, pulling a quarter out of her pocket. “Flip you for them.”
“Deal,” I say, a surge of excitement running through me. I hate guys like them, but I do like their money.
“Be right over!” Maggie calls out. She flips the quarter in the air and our eyes are glued to it. Catching it, she looks up at me. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” I shift the weight on my feet. I want the table, because of the potential tip, though I also hope Maggie gets them. She’s still in school and she’s always running short of cash every month.
“I call tails.” Whenever we flip a coin, it’s always heads.
I gasp when she lifts her hand. The table is mine.
“Wish me luck,” I say, smoothing my hands through my hair. “Is my makeup okay? Or is it sliding off my face?”
“You look gorgeous. Now go make some bomb tips and work on Italy,” Maggie says, gently pushing me toward the table.
When I’m three steps from the table, my skin tightens and I hesitate.
I know that face. That mouth. A tall, sculpted body that could rival that of David in Florence. Holy hell…I’ve read about this guy in magazines for years! How the hell does someone that famous and that rich end up in the Drip Drip Café? I blink my eyes slowly, but he and his friends are still there when I open my eyes again.
When he glances at me, his intense blue eyes hold nothing but complete indifference.
Bastard. He could at least be polite.
“Yo. You gonna take our order, or what?” Another guy, who’s clearly used to snapping his fingers and having people jump, he’s staring at me like I have the IQ of an eggplant.
“Of course, sir. What can I get all of you?” I smile sweetly, though I’m gritting my teeth tightly as I do so. I hate rich guys like this who think they own the world and can have everything at the flick of their manicured fingers. The truth is, they can and do. It just sucks to be the one jumping for them.
I take their orders and retreat back to the counter as fast as possible.
“Oh, baby!” Maggie says, her voice a stage whisper. “That is one fine bunch of wealth over there. I wonder if any of them are single…”
“Yeah, you can have them.” I stop myself when I realize I’m slamming cups and dishes around. Our boss docks our pay if we break anything.
Maggie gives me a long look and I can see her mind putting things together.
“What’s with you? I know you don’t like guys like these, but something is obviously bothering you. Did they hassle you?”
“You see the blonde one, the one with his shirt open?” I look up and the glass-covered sign and see his reflection watching me. Dammit.
“Yeah, what about him.”
“Maggie, really. Haven’t you seen a gossip magazine? In the last decade?”
“You know I don’t read stuff like that. I don’t have time.” Maggie hands me mugs as I pour out the coffee orders for the table.
“That’s Gabriel de Montmorency,” I whisper, glancing in the mirror to make sure none of them are watching us. “You know, a prince. He’s freaking royalty! He’s been in all the magazines for years. Total playboy and all-around dick.
Everything I hate.”
Maggie’s eyes go wide and I see her mind racing.
“Then that’s just the man you need as a boy toy.”
I roll my eyes at Maggie and load up the mugs of coffee on a tray. Walking over to serve the coffee, I can’t help but notice how much sexier he is in real life than in pictures or on television.
Then I roll my eyes. Pursuing a guy like him, even for a night?
He’s a recipe for trouble.
Chapter 2
Gabriel
I’m bored.” I yank the silk bow tie from my neck and throw it on the table. “Isn’t there anything other than charity money grabs in this backwater?”
Seattle isn’t the first place I’d choose to spend any amount of time, but I need a break and Father has decreed that I be here as the gala approaches. I’m regretting being in this sleepy town. Oh, they like to think they’re modern and cutting edge, because of all the high tech here, but let me tell you this: they’re not. A bunch of rich geeks do not mean a town is culturally interesting.
Though if I’m honest, I’m also bored with life. The last few years have been a string of parties, jetting around, and more women than I can even remember. None of that thrills me anymore and I don’t know where to go from here. My family wants me to settle down, but if I haven’t found a woman I want to marry by now, I doubt I ever will.
“Dude, pack a bag and join us in St. Maarten next week. Dominic is sailing in and rumor has it several Victoria’s Secret models will be in attendance.” Alfred leers.
“Maybe,” I say, knowing I won’t go. I lean back and try to get the attention of the waitress. She’s cute. Not like I need another woman following me around, but…her curves are giving me a boner. I may be bored with life, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have needs. And this dead sexy waitress is reminding my libido that my needs have not been adequately met in some time now.
This isn’t the first time I’ve wondered what I’m doing with my life. The family thinks I need to be married and popping out a brood, to keep the royal bloodline going. Maybe one day. Maybe. I idly wonder if I should get a job, then stop myself. What on earth would I do?
“Gabriel, you’re getting all broody over there. You need to snap out of it.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m just bored. I’m stuck here until after the museum gala. My father has been riding me again about settling down.”
“Does your father know you?” Christian bellows, laughing uproariously.
Thing is, Father does know me, or he thinks he does. He thinks I’m still leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me, but the truth is I’ve backed away from that. I’m vaguely interested in settling down, but I’ve never met a woman I found truly captivating. There’s no way I’m going to tie myself to a woman just because it’s what I should do or it’s what my family wants me to do. I’m only going to marry a woman I absolutely love.
“Have you found a pretty girl to be your date?” Christian says, not looking up from his phone. He’s swiping through pictures of women, so it’s obvious what he’ll be doing in an hour.
I groan. “No. The women here are too…” I wave my hand in the air. “Social climbers. You can see them angling for a date the moment they find out who I am. I’m bored of the gold diggers.”
“Why not hire someone?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Hire a hooker to go to the gala at the Pacific Art Museum? My family would disown me.” I laugh loudly and slap the table with my hand. “That’s a ludicrous idea!”
“Fuck man. No need to get bent out of shape,” Alfred says, nodding toward our waitress. “Hell, why not hire her? She’s cute. A little thick, but cute.”
I take another look at her. She is certainly sexy alright. She would definitely be a change of pace. Plus, my father would explode if I showed up with someone he deems unacceptable. It might be worth it just for that.
“Dude,” Christian says, finally looking up from his phone. “I dare you to ask her.”
“You all set for the night?” I nod toward the phone he’s tucking in his tux pocket.
“Damn fucking straight I am. Tall blonde on her way to the hotel, now. Gonna get fucked senseless, then push her out the door so I can sleep and wake up alone.”
“Such a romantic…”
“Hey, waitress,” Christian yells, snapping his fingers. The redhead stiffens and turns, a scowl darkening her pretty face. She says something to the other waitress, then returns to the table. I can’t help grinning at how cute she is, all angry and face darkened with fury.
“Is there something additional you need?” Her voice is polite, but her eyes are filled with murder.
“Well, not me, so much as our friend here,” Christian bellows, clapping me on the back.
“Ask her, Gabriel,” Alfred adds, leaning over and looking at the waitress like a fox eyeing a rabbit.
“Yeah, look,” I say, not quite raising my eyes from her luscious, ample breasts. Her work shirt outlines her full breasts spectacularly. “Would you like to be my date for a little event coming up at the Pacific Art Museum? It’s to unveil a special loan to their collection.”
“Obviously she has no idea what you’re talking about,” Alfred snickers. He assumes that people not in our circle don’t know anything about the events we attend.
“Actually, I do.” Her voice is tight, but something slight changes in her eyes. “Why should I be your date?”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Christian challenges. “Don’t you realize who he…”
“I’ll give you fifteen thousand reasons.” I pull out my Dior Homme wallet out of my jacket and extract several hundreds and lay them on the table. “You can consider that a down payment.”
“I’ll take that as a tip,” she says, brazenly taking the money and shoving it in the pocket of her apron. “But the price is a little higher. One-hundred grand. Take it or leave it.”
The guys take a long look at her and stare. She’s certainly gutsy. I like gutsy. I watch her watching me, her hands on her hips. She’s definitely not a shrinking violet.
“You’ve got a deal.” I whip out my Mobiado phone and take a picture of her. “What’s your number?”
Surprise and more anger flashes across her eyes, then she takes my phone and taps in her phone number.
“Thank you,” I glance down at my phone, “Sophie. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll work out the details.”
“Fine.”
Sophie pivots on her heel and walks back to the counter. I’m not the only one staring and admiring her round, luscious ass.
“That girl’s got balls,” Alfred says, admiration and awe in his voice.
No. That girl has curves and moxie.
I check her picture in my phone and feel immense satisfaction. I’m pleased that I’ll see her again. Taking a waitress to the gala might infuriate my father, but at least I’ll see her again.
And my cock is hoping that it has the chance to meet that luscious body of hers.
Chapter 3
Sophie
Dammit!”
There’s no way to dry the drop of sweat that’s just landed on the watercolor painting I’m working on, without ruining it, and now I’m going to have to start all over again.
I grab the washcloth I put in the freezer and hold it on the back of my neck, then drape it over my breasts, to try and cool off. I’ve been taking cold showers, but they never seem to work. And now that I’m meeting Gabriel in an hour, I want to at least look like I’m not in the process of melting.
Though, if you asked me to say which was hotter, my tiny apartment or my anger at Gabriel thinking he can just buy people? I think it might be my anger, though only by a very narrow margin.
Besides, as infuriating as he is, there’s a primal side of me that craves his attention and wants to preen in front of him. The idea of him between my legs makes me quiver and squirm with desire. Not to mention the money. Oh. My. God. That money will solve everything for me.
I kind hat
e myself for that, but what can you do?
I consider ignoring my phone when it buzzes, because it’s just out of reach and I don’t want to exert myself.
You ready for your date with prince charming?
Dammit. I never should have told Maggie that I’m actually going through this date thing with Gabriel. She mentions it every time we talk. Sure, it’s kinda impressive and cool, but I don’t think it should give him carte blanche to trample over everyone, just because he’s royal and because his family is obscenely wealthy.
Dreading it a little, to be honest. But…all that money! Italy!
Do it! And introduce me to his friends!
I laugh and toss my phone on my bed. If I don’t have this watercolor sketch more developed today, I’ll be further behind on this project and jeopardize my grant. The Foundation expects to see progress on this new series of paintings I’m working on, so I grab a new piece of paper and start over.
I would sell my soul to have even a small air conditioner. Technically, I have the money, especially with the tip I took from Gabriel, but I immediately put that in my savings account and earmarked it for Italy and the Accademia.
I ignore my phone until it beeps a third time. What does she want now?! But when I look at my phone, my mouth drops.
Gabriel wants to change our coffee meeting to a late lunch at a posh, members-only club downtown. I had a friend who worked there once and they told me about the ten-pound marble plates they sometimes served food on. Unreal food. Gorgeous décor. Stunning views of the city. All members rich as sin.
