Royal Rogue

by Jessica Peterson

  So I shoved my hands in my pockets. Took a steadying breath.

  “Look. Jane. I want to come in. Christ, I want to—”

  “But,” she said, offering me a tight smile. The look in her eyes flattened.

  I scrambled for the right thing to say.

  “But I want to take things slow with you,” I said, going with the truth. “I want to be careful with you, Jane. I don’t know if I’ve ever had so much fun on a date before. This is special, and I don’t want to ruin it by rushing.”

  “Charlie,” she replied, shaking her head a little. “I told you I’m not looking for anyone right now.”

  The question was out of my mouth before I could think better of asking it.

  “Why not?”

  Jane swallowed. She searched my gaze for a beat.

  “A lot of reasons.” Reasons she clearly wasn’t going to share with me. “Tonight was so wonderful. Let’s end it on a high note, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I want you to know that I’m not—I’m not looking for a hook up, Jane. I like a side of friendship with my sex—sue me. Actually, please don’t, because I really don’t have time to deal with a lawsuit right now.”

  Jane scoffed. She looked away toward the car, baring the sinews of her throat.

  My skin throbbed.

  Jesus fuck. Refusing this invitation was killing me.

  “Let’s find a happy medium, okay?” I said. “It exists, and we’ll find it—the place between what you want and what I do.”

  She looked at me from the corner of her eye.

  “Please,” I said. The word came out hungrily. A little hoarse.

  Jane swallowed. “All right. A happy medium. I have to get up early and do some work anyway, so…yeah. Probably a good thing if you go.”

  “Working on a Saturday,” I said, clinging to the change of subject for dear life. “You must really be passionate about what you do.”

  She rolled her tongue between her lips, biting the bottom one.

  “I am. I’m not afraid to say that I absolutely love my job.”

  “Lucky you.”

  A small smile worked its way onto her lips. “I am incredibly lucky. Working at my parents’ foundation gives me this really profound sense of purpose. Of direction. I know most people don’t necessarily get an opportunity to do work like that.”

  My heart was pounding again. “What do you do at the foundation?”

  “I focus mostly on fundraising and grant stuff. Women and education are the cornerstones of my agenda. We’ve made a lot of exciting progress in funding charities and small businesses related to those interests.”

  A lock of hair fell in her eyes. My fingernails bit into my palms inside my pockets. I wanted to reach out. Tuck her hair behind her ear.

  “That’s so fucking cool,” I said, and I meant it. “What kind of businesses?”

  “All kinds. Mostly businesses that directly benefit underprivileged or underserved communities of women. I’m big into scholarships and specialized schools for girls. It’s my mission to make sure every female in this country reaches her full potential. I love helping people become who they are, you know? Who they really are.”

  My chest contracted.

  Make the world a better place.

  Jane was doing exactly what mom had wanted me to do. She was making the right choices. Doing the right kind of work. Doing good.

  While I was conning my way through life. Not that I had much choice. But still.

  I reminded myself that Jane had been born into incredible privilege. She’d been born to parents who had given her a deep sense of purpose, as she’d mentioned. But she could’ve easily chosen to let other people do the hard work while she lived a life of leisure. Of luxury.

  The kind of life Jane led—the kind of woman she was—this was what mom had wanted for me.

  “Charlie,” Jane was saying. “Are you okay?”

  I blinked. Her face came into focus. Full mouth, kind eyes, smooth skin.

  I wanted her. So fucking badly.

  I yanked my hands out of my pockets. I stepped forward. Her head tilted back as she followed my movements, and I caught it, I slipped my trembling hand onto her face and held her there, my fingertips grazing the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. Her skin was hot and soft against my palm. So feminine. So different from the prickle of my scruff.

  Then I closed my eyes and kissed her. Pressed my lips to hers, guiding her face up to meet me.

  This was stupid. Dangerous. Kissing her for real. Kissing her like I meant it.

  In that moment, I didn’t give a shit.

  She tasted like whiskey. Whiskey and cherry chapstick.

  It was like a punch to the gut, that cherry flavor. Sweet.

  I drew a breath through my nose in an effort not to groan.

  This was supposed to be a first kiss. Tender and patient. A hint of what was to come. Which meant no groaning.

  But Jane must’ve sensed my desperation, because she stepped into me, her hands curling around the lapels of my jacket. She deepened the kiss, opening her mouth to me, and I kissed her deeply right back. Hungrily. Licking her lips, the inside of her mouth.

  Her mouth was slick and clean, her tongue curious. I ducked my head a little, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. She rose into the kiss, rose into me. Confident. Sinking her hips into mine. My dick leapt to life.

  Jane made this sound. A moan. Needy and rough.

  Unguarded.

  She was letting her guard down.

  Something inside my chest cracked. It fucking broke, and I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t know what it meant. All I knew was that it scared the shit out of me.

  I pulled back roughly, breathing hard. Jane’s eyes snapped open. They were hazy. Confused.

  “You sure you’re okay?” she asked.

  I needed to get out of here. Needed to be alone so I could figure out what the hell was going on with me. So I could rub one out, because Christ I was turned on.

  Turned on and scared. There wasn’t a more dangerous combination than that.

  I dug a hand into my hair. “I’m—”

  “Get a room!” a voice called out beside us. I turned to see Owen hanging out of his open window, shaking his head.

  I speared him with a glare. “You’re going to need to get a new job if you don’t roll up that goddamn window, Bastian!”

  He tapped his cap before doing as he was told.

  I turned back to Jane, my hand still in my hair.

  “You look a little pale,” she said, brow furrowed in concern. “You can come inside for some water if you’d like. Do you need to sit?”

  I shook my head, training my gaze on the ground. “You kiss like you play blackjack, princess. Ruthlessly. Of course I want to come in. Which means I need to go. Tomorrow—tell me you’re free.”

  Jane hesitated.

  “I’ll call you,” I said. “I have your number now.”

  “All right,” she said. “You can call me.”

  “Great,” I said. I looked up. Met her eyes. “Great.”

  She nodded. “Great.”

  Then she turned and unlocked her door and stepped inside, meeting my eyes one more time before closing it with a soft thud.

  I turned and headed for the car. Safely inside, I ran my hands down my thighs. They were still shaking.

  “Where to, brother?” Owen asked from the front seat.

  I looked out the window, not seeing a damn thing.

  “Home,” I said, pulling at my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. “I need a drink.”

  “A stiff one, eh, after a kiss like that?” Owen replied.

  I laughed despite myself. “Your terrible pun is not appreciated.”

  “But tips are.” He touched the brim of his cap. “Just saying.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlie

  “Earth to Charlie,” a voice said. “Hello. Charlie.”

  I blinked, startled from my thoughts.
Jimmy’s office materialized around me. Gleaming desk, ivory walls. Steam rising from the cup of coffee in front of me. Grey morning light streaming through the window. A black cab trundled down the street below, the unmistakable tut tut tut of its engine echoing off the empty sidewalks.

  Soho on a Saturday. Same as always. But today felt different.

  So fucking different. Like an asteroid had hit Earth overnight, knocking it off its axis. Turning everything upside-down.

  Which was why I’d come to see Jimmy. I didn’t want to ask him for advice. But I had no one else to turn to. He’d been an expert Romeo himself back in the day, and I figured he’d have some words of wisdom to help me keep my head screwed on straight.

  Jimmy was looking at me across the desk, eyes narrowed.

  “Sorry,” I said, reaching for the coffee. I took a long, scalding sip. It didn’t help. Didn’t lessen the throb behind my eyes. “Late night.”

  He settled his elbows on the desk. “I take it the date went well, then?”

  “Yeah.” Another sip. “Really well.”

  Too well.

  Jimmy’s eyes were still narrowed. He didn’t entirely buy it. I didn’t blame him. All things considered, the night had gone well. But then that kiss happened, and I’d lost my fucking mind.

  I’d barely slept after that. I’d kept turning that kiss over in my head. Kept getting hard. Kept wondering where the hell I’d gotten derailed. Why? I’d never lost myself in a kiss before. Not with a mark, and not with a real date, either. I always had control of the situation. But something about last night—about Jane—had made my control slip.

  She’d made me reckless.

  I did not do reckless.

  I tugged a hand through my hair.

  “Talk to me, Charlie,” Jimmy clipped. He was getting impatient.

  “It’s nothing. I just—this one’s getting under my skin a little bit.” I sniffed. Looked away. “It’s a big job. You know I don’t get nervous, but this…it’s different.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Jane is a beautiful girl. But don’t let her make you lose sight of what you’re after. Who you are.”

  My eyes moved to meet his. “And who’s that?”

  “Charlie fucking Zeller,” he replied easily. “Second most brilliant con man this side of the Atlantic.”

  I scoffed. “After you.”

  “Of course after me,” Jimmy said, grinning as he gave his lapels a little tug. “I was a legend, as you know. And now you’re a legend in yours, even if don’t want to be. Look, we’ve all had a mark get under our skin once or twice.”

  I blinked. “You have?”

  “Of course.” He leaned back, his big leather chair creaking. Ran his tie between his first two fingers. “Her name was Cecelia de Vere. Heiress to an ancient fortune. She was gorgeous. Liked Led Zeppelin and LSD. She was clever. Witty.” Jimmy got a faraway look in his eyes. “She made me laugh like no one else.”

  Sweat broke out inside my collar. Minus the LSD bit, Cecelia sounded a lot like Jane.

  “What was the play?” I asked.

  Jimmy looked out the window. “A seven carat diamond. Nicked it right off her finger at a dinner party.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy,” I said. Then, when he didn’t elaborate: “But you did see the job through.”

  “Of course.”

  “How?”

  His eyes snapped to meet mine. “I leaned into it. Into my feelings for her. It was real, Charlie. What I felt for her was real. Now that I look back on it, the con would’ve never worked if it hadn’t been. But I was still able to see the bloody thing through. You want to know why?”

  I was holding my breath. “Why?”

  He dropped the tie and leaned his elbows on the desk. “Because even if my feelings for her were real, I had to remember that hers weren’t. They couldn’t be, because they were predicated on a lie. Cecelia didn’t fall in love with me. She fell in love with Luke Lovelace, a tortured—and of course very rich—novelist.”

  “Luke Lovelace.” I let out a whistle. “Can’t believe she bought that one.”

  “It was the seventies.” Jimmy shrugged. “The shit you could get away with back then would blow your mind. My point is, I’d doomed whatever relationship I could have had with Cecelia by pretending to be someone I wasn’t. She would have never forgiven a betrayal like that. She definitely wouldn’t have fallen for a lad like me with no family to speak of, no real job, and barely two pennies to rub together. Toffs don’t know what to do with people like us. If she had ever found out who I really was, she’d have kicked my arse to the curb. No question.” He looked me squarely in the eye. “You’ve already set the wheels in motion, Charlie. It’s too late to change your story now. If you do, you’ll be crushed. And people like us—we’ve already been crushed one time too many. She may be charming now. But deep down, she’s just like the others.”

  It was my turn to look out the window. Jimmy was right. But the math didn’t entirely add up. Hadn’t Jane been crushed, too?

  Hadn’t we all been crushed by life and love and loss one time too many?

  I gritted my teeth. I hated having these fucking inconvenient thoughts. Before Jane, it’d been simple enough. Us or them. My family or theirs. But now it seemed more complicated than that.

  “So you like her. Let yourself live in your lie for a bit. Have fun with it. Date her just like you would anyone else. It’ll be your best work yet, because it’s genuine.” Jimmy took a breath through his nose. “But when it comes time to make your move, just think of how quickly Jane would hang you out to dry if she found out who you really are. Think of what the Queen would say if Jane brought a thief home for Sunday dinner. A poor kid from South Carolina. They’ll never accept you, Charlie. Just like Cecelia would never have accepted me if she’d known I was the bastard son of a prince whose very existence was so scandalous I had to be swept under the rug like dirt. Remember that so you can do your job and get the hell out of there.”

  Through the window, I watched two sharply dressed men making their way up the street. They were talking. Laughing. I imagined they were having a normal Saturday. Living their normal, privileged life.

  My heart twisted. I was so envious of the privilege I fantasized they had. Not jealous. Envious. A bone deep longing for their freedom. For the educations and opportunities I imagined they had.

  Girls like Jane dated guys like them. And the kicker was that I got it. I understood why she’d want them and not me. What the hell could I offer her? I was a thief, for fuck’s sake, who was up to his eyeballs in debt. I had two hundred pounds in my checking account. I lived with my brother in a fourth floor walk-up in a shitty part of town.

  I didn’t want to live this way forever. I wanted better for Owen and for myself. But I didn’t have wealthy parents or a special talent to help me get there. I had to rely on myself. The skills that I had.

  I was skilled at conning people. So that’s what I’d do until I didn’t have to do it anymore. Even if that meant stealing from a girl who maybe didn’t quite deserve it as much as the others.

  One fucking date. How the hell did I feel so overwhelmed after one fucking date?

  Grabbing my coffee, I finished it.

  I had to remember that Jane was probably just a crush anyway. The things I felt for her were temporary.

  My freedom, though? That was forever.

  “You’re right,” I said, smacking my lips. “I’m being stupid.”

  Jimmy looked at me. “Just think of your brother. The deli. Everything you’ve ever wanted can be yours if you make this job work.”

  I ran a hand down my face, nodding. He was right. Time to take my head out of my ass and get this damn thing done already.

  I got up, digging my phone out of my pocket. “I should head out—I owe Jane a call. I’m supposed to see her today.”

  Jimmy grinned. “That’s a good lad. Remember what I said, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I said, getting up.

  “One more
thing.” He held up a finger. I paused. “My sources tell me Princess Jane is hosting a fundraiser at the palace on Friday. If you can get her to invite you, that could be our way in. You’d play defense inside the palace while we snatch the painting. No better distraction than a black tie party.”

  I nodded. “I’m on it.”

  But my thoughts still swam as I stepped outside onto the sidewalk. Despite the pep talk, I felt more confused and off-kilter than ever.

  It made me want one of Jane’s cigarettes. I’d never been a smoker, not really. But I’d try anything if it meant clearing my head.

  What thoughts was Jane trying to chase away when she smoked? What clarity had she found standing on her stoop, cigarette in hand, nicotine in her lungs?

  The sharp smells from last night’s partying clung to the air, making it heavy and humid. I looked down at my phone. Hovered my thumb over Jane’s number.

  The sick part was that I was still excited to call her. Calling her meant seeing her. And I really wanted to see her. Yeah, I wanted to tear her clothes off and taste every inch of her skin. Which I obviously couldn’t do. But more than that, I just wanted to be with her. Soak up her company the way I’d soaked up sunshine in our tiny backyard in Charleston when I was a kid.

  Live in your lie.

  I wasn’t sold on Jimmy’s advice. He was a fucking loan shark, for Christ’s sake. An expert con. But what other choice did I have? I had to do this. I had to make my relationship with Jane work. I’d already learned she had no tolerance for bullshit. The more genuine I was, the more smoothly this whole thing would go.

  The more quickly I could get it over with. The quicker it went, the less collateral damage there’d be.

  I hit her number. Took a deep breath, bouncing on my toes.

  She picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey Charlie.” Her voice was soft. Equal parts uncertain and bright. “I’m glad you called. The way you left last night—I have to admit I was a little worried. Are you sure I didn’t…I don’t know, do anything to hurt you or…?”

  I closed my eyes. Let out a long, low breath.