Billionaire's Princess: A Standalone Novel (A Royal Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires Book 2)

by Claire Adams

  If Kya had been the untouchable good girl, the Country Club Princess, before, she was done now. All the headlines and captions lambasted her. All the articles talked about her going wild, letting loose, and, my personal favorite, tarnishing her halo. She was in my territory now.

  I would have felt bad for her, if I did not remember catching her with the golfer just outside my bedroom door kissing on the couch over glasses of champagne. The surge of anger burned off some of my hangover. I got out of bed and marched to her door. What would I say?

  I turned and went to the kitchen to make a hangover cure. I was just choking it down when I noticed the folder and note on the counter:

  I had to tell you about the offer. It is too good to pass up. I understand you want to do everything on your own and that makes sense to me. I'm the same way. That's why I am pursuing other athletes. Now there's no pressure, I'm not depending on you. Make this decision for yourself. – Kya

  I opened the folder. She was right; the deal was very generous. The contract was for a surprisingly long period. It would set me up for long enough to get settled. It would help me survive the ups and downs of my MMA career.

  I tore the contract to shreds.

  Kya had not mentioned anything about us. She had not explained why I caught her kissing Jackson McRay on the sofa. She had very carefully kept work and personal life separated. I should have respected that. It seemed the more I tried to maintain that separation, the worse my life got.

  "Don't have a hangover, do you? Because I'm going to make you drink that egg thing that Aldous always cooks up." Kev let himself into the suite and joined me in the kitchen. "Jesus, what does that little scrap of paper say? Is that a new offer?"

  "I'm not taking it."

  Kev leaned on the kitchen counter. "You didn't think I would reach that conclusion on my own? What's with the shredding?"

  "I just don't want any more distractions. I need to focus on defeating Maxwell Lewis," I said.

  "Oh, right. So it has nothing to do with Kya Allen," Kev said. "I thought you two were becoming a thing."

  "She's only interested in me as a client." I pointed to the scraps of contract and the note.

  Kev read the note and shook his head at me. "You realize she was only doing the right thing. She owed it to you and to her clients to pass along the new offer. Takes integrity to do that even if it jeopardizes her personal interests. I mean, I guess. That's what I hear about integrity, anyway."

  I chucked Kev in the shoulder and he complained about the bruise all the way down to the waiting cab. He distracted me with his normal litany of near-conquests and sexual fantasies. I had to smile. It was impossible to brood when Kev Casey was around. The ride was quick and by the time we met Aldous at the gym, I was ready to focus.

  "Go team!" Kev said. He peeled off to chat with a pair of female boxers.

  I started the circuits that Aldous timed. He had obviously seen the photograph, too, but my coach did not say a word. He would not say a word unless I brought it up. I worked harder. I would not be in Las Vegas training for the title fight without my manager and my coach. No matter how much I wanted to be a lone wolf, I was part of a team.

  I had not realized it before. Kev and Aldous were more than team members. Despite Kev's disgusting conversational skills and Aldous' habit of preaching, they were my friends and family. I had never struggled to separate our personal relationships from business. We all lived what we did.

  Kya was the same.

  There was no reason to keep her out of my life. She fit perfectly. All I had to do was show her I was better than some Polo shirt wearing golfer. I trained hard, burning off all the other distractions. I was going to win my next fight.

  I meant to go straight back to the suite and stay out of trouble, but suddenly, I was striding through the casino. I saw Jackson McRay in his light blue Polo shirt. He leaned against a video poker machine and toyed with Kya's copper curls. She pulled back and smoothed her hair down, but then she smiled at him. I had to do something. I would not cause a scene, but I would get Kya's attention.

  "Oooh, Fenton Morris. I've been dying to meet you!" The voice came through a strong white light.

  I blinked and discovered a camera crew surrounding me. Actually, they surrounded a leggy blonde in a short blue dress. I recognized her from all the headline websites that had featured my photograph.

  "Whoa, wait. I'm not reality show material," I said.

  "Oh, forget about the cameras. I'm Sienna." She pressed against me and giggled.

  I had to appreciate the firm curves of her body and her blatant exploitation of my appearance in the casino. Sienna was only skin-deep and easy to figure out. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pretended the cameras were not there.

  "You look like you could be a good lucky charm," I said.

  "Want me to blow on some dice for you?" Sienna asked.

  I laughed loudly and paraded the reality show blonde farther into the casino. Kya looked up from her video poker machine. Despite the outpouring of her winnings, she frowned at me. It was not what I intended, but it certainly had grabbed her attention. She was not the only one that could pursue other angles.

  Over Sienna's wriggles and giggles, I watched Kya brush off Jackson McRay. He looked ready to punch someone until a horde of short-skirted fans surrounded him. Kya disappeared from the casino. I suffered another half an hour of Sienna draped over me and vamping for the cameras. Then, I unhooked her arms from my neck and headed upstairs.

  The bright white decor of the luxury suite was lit only by the fireplace. Outside the wide windows all of Las Vegas sparkled. Kya's door was shut tight. I wanted to knock on it, but instead, I stood in front of the view. Las Vegas surprised me. I loved it. Minutes from the neon and faux explosion of the Strip was the desert. And, in between all the tourists and vacation facades, there were real people working hard. For one moment, I was content. I could stay put. The suite was silent and comfortable, Kya was in the other room safe and sound, and I felt good.

  Instead of waking her up and ruining everything with words, I went to my room. There in the middle of the bed, was a stuffed black cat toy with a red ribbon around its neck. Kya had scribbled a quick note:

  Saw your tattoo and thought you might like this. Who says black cats are unlucky? You don't need luck; we all know you're going to win. – Kya

  I tucked the black cat under my arm. The black cat tattoo was entwined in the skin art all over my back, bits and pieces from my life. Somehow, Kya knew the cat meant more to me than my first motorcycle, the first cash I won fighting, or my first pair of boxing gloves. She had seen straight through all the skulls and roses, the stone angel and guns and picked out the one thing that summed up my entire childhood.

  My mother's sweet black cat, Lucy. That cat lay on her bed, purred, and kept her warm, until she passed away.

  "Don't believe what people say about black cats, Fenton," my mother had said. "Luck isn't real, good or bad. It's all up to you."

  I carried Kya's gift with me to the fight the next day.

  "A mascot, I like it," Kev said. "Let's bring the black cat to the ring, let it get in Maxwell Lewis' head."

  I smiled. "Go team."

  There was a commotion outside the locker room. Kev yelled at someone outside the door. "No one's coming in. No one!"

  "Who was it?" I asked.

  "Not Kya Allen, if that's what's got you worried," Kev said. "She told me she's watching it on the big screen in the casino."

  I jumped up and down and tried to stay focused.

  Kev continued. "I just figured you didn't want a whole reality show swarming around before you head out to the ring."

  "Sienna?" I asked.

  "Yup. Said she'll catch up with you after the fight. Just let me know if you want me to take her off your hands."

  Kev then launched into an entire storyline of what he would do with Sienna and how the cameras would have to stop rolling almost immediately. I welcomed his normal drone and
got myself pumped up for the fight.

  "You ready for this? You're ready for this," Aldous said.

  "I am. And when this one's done, let’s sign that endorsement deal. It’s time to take things to the next level," I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kya

  Maxwell Lewis was hard. He answered every move Fenton made with a lightning fast combination. The two fighters hardly broke apart. Instead, they locked together time and again. I watched through my splayed fingers.

  The giant screen in the booking lounge was overwhelming. It made every heavy hit reverberate off the walls. All around me, people drank and cheered, chatted and laughed. I could hardly breathe. Fenton was fighting at the top of his game, but Maxwell Lewis was an even match.

  I was torn between wanting to run to the arena and see everything, every kick and spin and chop, and wanting to retreat upstairs to the suite and bury my head under a pillow. It was impossible not to worry about Fenton, no matter how invincible he looked in the ring.

  At least this time he's wearing gloves and there's a ref, I thought. No more bare-knuckle boxing.

  I watched the odds rise and fall depending on the moves the fighters made. Fenton was the top choice, but Maxwell Lewis was looking good. Watching the statistics flash next to the live fight was almost too much. I turned to run down to the arena.

  "And he's down! Fenton Morris has done it. Total knock out!" the announcer roared.

  My knees went weak, and I found a seat just as everyone else leapt to their feet. The celebrations and lamentations quickly spread out of the booking lounge and into the casino and bars. Soon, there were only few stranglers left to watch the post-fight action in the ring.

  Fenton's left eye was swelling and his lip was cut, but he wore a huge smile on his face. I leaned back in my seat and tried to catch my breath. He had won. A huge weight was off my chest. I hoped now that we could move past all the mistakes I had made and start over. He was on his way to the title fight and whether or not we worked together, I wanted to be with him.

  My breath caught in my chest again. I wanted to be with him? The man that made passionate love to me twice and then invited a stripper up to the suite? Was I completely insane?

  There had to be more to the story. There had to be some way we could clear the air. Still, I did not breathe as the ringside reporter shoved a microphone in Fenton's face.

  "Some people are saying you've redeemed yourself after the disastrous fight with Mario Peretti. What do you have to say to that?" she asked.

  "I have to thank my team, the people that make sure I am fighting at my best," Fenton said. Kev and Aldous joined him. Kev held the black cat I had given Fenton over his head like a trophy. Fenton laughed. "They are the ones that help me make my own luck."

  I was right about the black cat tattoo, so maybe I was right about Fenton Morris himself. There was a good guy underneath his act. Maybe there was a simple explanation to what happened between us. I left the booking lounge and headed upstairs. The least I could do now was plan a celebration for him.

  A quick conversation with the casino concierge and a DJ and caterer arrived at the suite within minutes. Hotel staff helped me rearrange the furniture, create space for the party, and hang a congratulations banner across the wide picture windows. When everything was set, I stood under the banner and waited.

  It was impossible not to admire the view and feel my heart soaring. There was something about Las Vegas. I loved the glitz of the Strip and the nearby starkness of the desert. I loved the chilly wind of the evenings and the hot beating sun during the day. And, I loved that underneath the facade were real people. I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be part of this fabulous town.

  "Great minds think alike, Ms. Allen," Kev called from the doorway. He marched in leading a long string of party guests. "Crack open the champagne and let’s get this thing started."

  "Oh, thank God," I said. "I just realized Fenton might have decided to go out on the town."

  "The man likes to party in private, especially to celebrate a win," Kev said.

  "You mean he might actually be himself tonight?" I asked.

  Fenton's manager laughed. "Oh, so you like the real Fenton? I figured. I never would have guessed it at first, but you two seem to be a good match when you're not busy messing it all up."

  I accepted the glass of champagne. "Well, maybe tonight can be all about celebrating and nothing about work."

  "Damn fine idea," Kev said. He popped another bottle of champagne as more people crowded into the suite and started to party.

  "Who are all these people?" I asked.

  "Gym staff, restaurant servers, valets, cab drivers," Kev said. He shrugged his shoulders.

  For all his big talk and disgusting jokes, Kev was a good man. Everyone that helped him or supported Fenton in even the smallest way had been invited to celebrate.

  "You're a class act, Kev Casey," I said.

  "You flirting with me?" he slipped an arm around my waist.

  I laughed and shoved his arm away. "Sorry, I've got some networking to do."

  "Oh, so you're thinking about settling here in Vegas? I meant to talk to you about that. Opportunities abound. I bet your agency would love a foothold here," Kev said.

  I blinked and could not hide the huge smile that spread over my face. "My boss would love that."

  "Yeah, I got the feeling you weren't rushing back to Chicago. Sometimes a place just grabs you, like it’s got its own gravity and you realize you've just been floating along until you find it," Kev said.

  At that moment, Fenton appeared in the doorway. There was the pull that Kev was talking about. Fenton Morris pulled me in to his orbit. I was about to give in and go to him when a tall blonde and blinding camera crew appeared behind him.

  All hope of Fenton being himself vanished as he grabbed the reality show star and sauntered into his party. With the cameras rolling, Fenton was in full-on party mode. Tequila appeared in front of him and he tipped it back, taking a lime wedge out of Sienna's mouth. The crowd cheered as Sienna's entourage poured into the suite.

  Kev gave me an apologetic look, and then swooped in to wrap his arms around two of Sienna's skinny, sequined friends.

  "Let's get some music going!" Fenton yelled.

  The DJ started and the living room became a dance floor. Fenton pulled the reality star into the center and ground himself against her. She shrieked and danced, writhing against him while the cameras ate up every bit of it.

  "Not really your scene?" Aldous asked. He appeared behind me with a small plate of snacks, but no alcohol.

  "Is it really his?" I asked.

  Fenton's coach chuckled. "He plays it up good for the cameras. Saves money on a publicist, I guess."

  So this is all business to Fenton, I told myself. It was only fair. I had let my dotted line get in the way, and now he was letting his one-man brand keep me away. I straightened my shoulders and finished the glass of champagne Kev had poured me. Then, I dove into the dancing crowd. It was hard not to smile as everyone was having such a good time. I finally gave into the music and found that dancing was a much easier way of getting through the crowd.

  In fact, I was having so much fun dancing that I was surprised when Fenton slipped his hands around my waist and turned me to face him. Sienna refused to relinquish her hold and gyrated against his back, but Fenton's blue eyes were on me.

  "I just wanted to say congratulations," I said over the music.

  "Where's your date?" he asked. "The golfer?"

  "Jackson? He's not my date. I'm not interested in him. I told you, I was just pursuing him for the vitamin supplement people. That way I don't have to bother you anymore," I said.

  "You don't bother me," he said. He shrugged off Sienna and moved closer to me.

  His whole body changed, became less rigid. I watched as the act slipped away and it was just Fenton that stood before me. He took my hand and pulled me off the dance floor. My heart pounded harder than the mu
sic as he handed me a glass of champagne. People patted him on the back and congratulated him. He smiled and nodded, but focused on me.

  "Is your eye bothering you?" I asked. I wanted to reach up and soothe the swollen area, but stopped myself.

  He shook his head. He took another swig of tequila and watched the surging party.

  "It was an amazing fight," I said. "I watched from the casino. It was terrifying to see you on the big screen."

  His lips quirked up in a smile, but he said nothing.

  "We need to talk, don't we?" I asked. "Can we talk?"

  "I wanted to thank you for the black cat," Fenton said. "My mother had a black cat that she loved. It was the whole reason I don't believe in luck. You make your own luck, right?"

  "You're welcome," I said. "I don't think tonight had anything to do with luck. You might not show it, but you work hard."

  "Maybe it’s time I start working smarter, too," he said. "I talked to Kev and Aldous and they deserve a raise. I'm willing to sign your deal. Tell your clients they've got my endorsement. Build in a percentage for my manager and coach and send over the new contract. I'm ready to sign."

  "That's great, it's a great deal. You won't regret it," I said. "But that wasn't really what I wanted to talk about."

  "Let's just get the business out of the way," Fenton said. He pushed away from me and was swallowed back up by the happy crowd.

  I stumbled back against the wall and leaned there. All he was interested in was the business deal. It hurt. Now, I knew how it felt and now I knew why I had kept it between us this whole time. Everyone I cared about disappeared. The only constant was my work. A steady paycheck took care of me and new clients filled my days. That was all I had needed. Until I met Fenton Morris.

  I watched him rejoin the leggy blonde. Together, they flirted for the cameras and danced late into the night. Finally, the camera crew put down their equipment and joined the party. The dancing got wild, then sloppy, then slow. People broke off from the crowd in pairs and small groups. The party broke up somewhere close to dawn.