Spring Romance

by Bailey, Tessa

  How was I going to put it into words? “You’re a ‘haver.’ I mean, you could have any woman in this room if you wanted, and probably some of the guys too. You’re young, hot, and filthy rich.”

  His irritation vanished. It was replaced with an arrogant expression that said none of this was news to him. I pushed forward, gathering steam.

  “Me?” I said. “I’m a ‘have-not.’ I’m sure you didn’t intend for it to happen, but when you said I was a nobody, you made it true. No one will touch me.”

  “I touched you.”

  He was immune to my scorching glare. “You wanted to know why I was still a virgin last year. Well, there’s your answer. You’re the reason, Royce. Nobody would be caught dead with me.”

  He considered the accusation I’d lobbed at him. “You’re wrong,” he said finally. “I was aware what was going to happen. It’s exactly why I said it.”

  My head turned into a void. “What?”

  He leaned over the table to ensure he had my full attention. “I saw you at the bar with your sister that night. You were swaying to the music, all happy, and pretty, and it pissed me off. My father had already laid out plans for me. I was supposed to be with Emily, but that wasn’t what I wanted.”

  I clenched the menu in my hands. I sensed where he was going, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My heart chugged along, thumping loudly in my ears.

  “So, yeah. I knew you were behind me when I called you a nobody. I did it on purpose, because I couldn’t stand you with anyone else. I wanted you for myself.”

  “Oh, my God.” My body flushed hot, although I didn’t know if it was with anger or excitement, or a deadly combination of the two.

  “I’d tell you I’m sorry if that was hard for you, but honestly?” He tossed a hand up. “I’m not. I take my victories where I can get them, and I don’t regret what I had to do to earn it. It’s win-at-all-costs in the Hale family. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

  Catching my breath was impossible. “You’re making this up.”

  He looked dubious. “Seriously? Why would I? I went out with Emily once. Did she tell you about it?”

  “She said,” I swallowed thickly, “you were a jerk.”

  “Is that it?”

  When I didn’t answer, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking at me like I’d just proved his point.

  “I wasn’t aware that was something you could turn on or off.” My tone was dry. “I thought it was a default setting for you.”

  He chuckled. “See? You’re like me. You say what you’re thinking, and no one talks to me like that. It’s one of the reasons I like you. Everyone else has their nose so far up my family’s ass it’s uncomfortable.”

  One of the reasons. What were the others? “She also said you had zero chemistry.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “That should have been a dead giveaway. Because you and me, Marist? There’s no fucking issue of chemistry. I still remember what you taste like.”

  Oh, Lord.

  I put my hands on the linen tablecloth because the world was spinning too fast and threatened to hurl me off. The naïve part of me wanted to believe everything he’d said, but my brain didn’t trust him. He was a master manipulator.

  The waitress appeared. “Have you decided?”

  “I’m not hungry.” Because what I was interested in wasn’t on the menu.

  Royce gave her a strained smile. “We’ll each have the filet, medium rare, with a Caesar salad.” He snatched up the wine list and pointed to an entry. “And this bottle of wine, please.”

  She was gone almost instantly.

  “I said I’m not hungry,” I repeated.

  “And this is supposed to be a date, not a business meeting, so maybe start acting like it.”

  Our evening tonight was to lay the groundwork that Royce and I were a couple, so when our engagement was announced next month it’d be less of a shock. Cape Hill wasn’t large, and news of our evening would spread quickly.

  Especially since the girl two tables over from us had snapped a picture. It was probably already up on Instagram.

  At least, if it fit in with the girl’s color story.

  “It’d be more believable if you didn’t look like you hate my guts,” he added.

  “I don’t,” I said and frowned. “Honestly? I have no idea how to feel about you.”

  A playful expression crossed his face. “I think you like me. You just don’t want to.”

  “God, you’re cocky.”

  He grinned widely, and I did my best not to let it get to me. A weaker woman would have swooned at that smile. “It’s not cocky,” he said, “if you can back it up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s exactly what a cocky person would say.”

  He laughed. It was a pleasant sound. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Go for it.”

  “You look great,” he said, “but I miss the green hair.”

  The momentary lightness in me faded. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly your father’s cup of tea, was it?”

  The muscles along his jaw flexed like he was gritting his teeth. “Nothing is. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

  Although the way he’d said it made me think otherwise. Like Royce was still struggling not to disappoint his father. I ran my fingers along the edge of my silverware. “You said you were protecting me the other day.”

  His expression glazed over. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I sighed. I was so very tired already, when I knew I still had a long way to go. “Please? Can we be honest with each other and—”

  “Everything I have was given to me,” Royce said. “He never stops reminding me and Vance of that. It all came from him, and he can take it away from us at any time.”

  His hard, serious expression made my insides cold.

  “Which means,” he continued, “everything that’s mine? It’s his, according to him.” His gaze captured mine and refused to let go. “So, if I show an interest in something—let’s say a particular Northcott sister—he might decide to take her away from me, just because he wants to make sure I remember who’s in charge.”

  “Holy shit.” Every muscle in me locked up. I had my doubts about a lot of things he’d said, but this I believed. Royce liked to mess with people, and he’d learned it from his father.

  Macalister was Zeus. He fucked with the mortals just for the fun of it.

  For sport.

  Which meant everything was more dangerous than I realized. If Macalister decided to “take me away” from Royce, that meant the deal would be off and my family would be left with nothing. Anxiety fluttered in my chest. I would have to depend on the man sitting across from me to guide us through the next few weeks.

  “We shouldn’t talk about it right now.” Royce’s gaze dropped to the table and focused on something. “He has at least a spy or two here.”

  He plucked a non-existent piece of lint from his sleeve and flicked it away. It’d been a normal gesture, but I didn’t miss his meaning. He’d used it to motion toward the couple sitting a few tables away.

  One of whom was the girl who’d taken a picture of us. The idea of spies sounded ridiculous, but the Hales had a stupid amount of money, and it made them paranoid.

  The wine arrived. I sat awkwardly still as the server poured Royce a sample, and my gaze followed the swirl of the red wine in his glass before it was set against his lips. When his throat bobbed with a swallow, a pulse deep between my legs mirrored it. Was that why he’d made a move on me in the library last year? Had he been sampling me? Making sure he wanted to buy the entire bottle?

  He nodded his approval to the waitress and the wine was poured in both our glasses, and he didn’t speak again until she was gone.

  “Come home with me tonight.”

  I choked on my wine, coughing and sputtering.

  “So we can talk about it freely,” he offered over the rim of his glass.

  Oh, he was smoo
th. My body clambered for it, but I shoved the desire down. “Right.” My tone was drier than the wine. “Talk.”

  He sounded innocent, but his smile was sinful. “Did you have something else in mind?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned on the table, not allowing myself to slide into his trap. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I thought we didn’t want to give your father the wrong impression.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. He knows I’m not going to fuck you.”

  The wine in my glass sloshed as I jerked. “What?”

  It was amazing how I wasn’t interested in that . . . until it was suddenly off the table. “Do you need board approval for that too?”

  Darkness seeped into his eyes and turned them stormy, but he slowly blinked it away. “No. I don’t fuck on the first date.”

  It was a lie. I knew it not because rumors were legendary about how fast he could get in a girl’s pants, but from his stiff posture and the fist he’d unknowingly clenched on the tabletop. Interesting. Whatever the truth was, he didn’t want to say, or perhaps he couldn’t. Maybe I’d get more out of him when we were away from the invasive eyes of Cape Hill.

  “All right.” And then I said the words I never expected to utter in my lifetime. “I’ll go home with you, Royce.”

  Chapter Eight

  I followed the black town car down the long driveway, circled the fountain, and parked in the empty space beside the garage that had once been the Hale carriage house. I’d offered to give Royce a ride in my Porsche Cayenne and let his driver leave early, but his phone had chimed as we were leaving the restaurant. He’d said he had to make a work call to straighten someone out and he’d meet me at the house.

  I was a little relieved he’d declined. It gave me time on the drive over to rerun the evening, regroup, and prepare. Once I’d agreed to come home with him, our conversation had turned to lighter topics. We knew the heavier stuff was to come later.

  He didn’t ask about my family, so I didn’t ask about his.

  We talked about his job and mine. I volunteered as a tutor at the community college over the summer, mostly to look good on my resume, but I enjoyed it. We chatted about my classes at Etonsons and other safe things like music and movies. It wasn’t . . . unpleasant. For me, conversation came easier with him than it did with others.

  He walked toward my car as I climbed out. He’d taken off his sport coat and folded it over an arm, but rather than look relaxed, he seemed anxious. His hair was mussed, like he’d run a hand through it in frustration.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Fine.” His tone said otherwise, and I gave him an expectant look. He let out a breath. “There’s some stock I bought recently, and it’s underperforming. My broker wasn’t paying attention, so we had to have a conversation about it.” Like this was a normal problem for a twenty-five-year-old to have. He tipped his head toward the front door. “Come on.”

  I walked beside him up the stone staircase and tried not to think that this might someday be my home. Our home. Unease churned in my stomach. As we got close to the front door, there was a metal click as the lock disengaged with his keycard.

  The entryway was quiet and dark as we stepped inside. “What, no one is going to announce me?”

  Royce quirked an eyebrow in a silent question.

  “Last time I was here—your graduation party? There was a man at the door, announcing everyone when they came in.”

  He gave a short, amused laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like some pretentious shit my family would do.”

  He was halfway up the grand staircase before he realized I hadn’t followed. He stopped and turned, one foot on the step above the other, casting his intense look down on me. He was framed perfectly on the stairs, and if my heart weren’t already racing, this would have made it. He was a beautiful man, surrounded by danger.

  “Where are you going?” My voice came out sounding unsure, and I hated it. What if Macalister was up there? No amount of work could mentally prepare me for it.

  “My room,” he said. When I didn’t move, he took in a deep breath. “Just to talk, Marist. We can go to the kitchen if you want, but I’m pretty sure everyone’s home.”

  Meaning he wouldn’t be able to say everything he wanted.

  I nodded, placed a hand on the smooth banister, and made my way up to join him on the landing. I followed him as he led us deep into the heart of the house, not knowing which room was his. Was last year the first time I’d been upstairs? Most of the times I’d come here, it’d been for some event, and they were usually held in the gardens out back. His graduation party would have been too, except it had rained.

  We passed several guest bedrooms as we made our way to the end of the hall, and then a closed door on the right. “Vance’s room,” Royce said. “Although he’s probably in the theater room downstairs, playing PlayStation. His door has to stay closed because Lucifer isn’t allowed in there.”

  “Lucifer?” Was this some sort of cruel nickname for someone on his staff?

  “As in the devil?” A smile hinted on Royce’s lips as he put a hand on the small of my back and guided me through the open doorway to the left.

  “Actually, in mythology, Lucifer is the morning star.”

  The room he’d led me into looked like a luxury hotel. The walls were paneled in rich, dark wood. There was a sitting area with a light gray couch, a black coffee table in the middle, and two chairs upholstered in smoke gray on the other side. Beyond that was the king-sized bed. Its linens and headboard were done in the same light-to-dark gray scheme. Even the sleeping black cat curled into a perfect circle at the foot of the bed matched.

  When Royce shut the door and closed us in, the cat lifted its head and gazed at me with apple-green eyes. It scrutinized me with a discerning look then moved on to the man. A half-second later it was on its feet, vaulting toward him and landing on the carpet with a soft meow. Like a dog who was happy to see its owner, the cat hurried to him and brushed against his leg.

  “Are you allergic?” Royce tossed his sport coat onto one of the chairs. It was so his hands were free and he could reach down to grab the cat.

  “No,” I said.

  “Vance is.” I’d expected him to go to the door and set the cat outside of his room, but instead he held it in his arms and scratched its cheeks.

  “This is Lucifer?” My brain short-circuited while watching him with the gorgeous cat, who was clearly loving the attention. A loud, steady purr rumbled from the animal.

  “Yeah. My father hates him.”

  “I’m surprised he lets Alice keep him.”

  When he set the cat down, Lucifer wasn’t pleased. He snaked between Royce’s legs, meowing his protests. “He’s not Alice’s.”

  That was . . . surprising. “Really? You don’t strike me as a cat person.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a shrug and motioned toward the sitting area. “I found this kitten beside the dumpster outside my college apartment. His back leg was broken.” His tone turned playful. “Fucker cost three grand at the vet and sheds everywhere, but the upside is—as I mentioned—my father hates him.”

  Royce dropped down onto the couch, which was more of a loveseat and didn’t leave much room for me. Not unless I wanted to sit close. I eyed the chair across from him and took it. “That’s an upside?”

  Lucifer looked delighted Royce’s lap was unoccupied and immediately jumped onto the couch. The miniature panther draped himself across one of Royce’s legs, demanding more attention.

  As he stroked the cat, Royce’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “I like to go off-script sometimes.”

  The way he stared at me charged the room with electricity. His subtext was clear. Like this cat, I was not in the first draft of his scripted life, but he was happy with the revision. I crossed my legs, feeling uncomfortably hot and exposed. And needy.

  “Well,” my voice was unnaturally tight, “you’ve got the whole villain look working for you with that cat
on your lap. Like you’re plotting world domination.”

  “I have been for a long time.”

  I laughed, although I got the feeling he wasn’t joking. I teased, “Have you?”

  “When my father steps down, I’ll be the head of HBHC.” His gaze dropped to the cat who stretched, revealing his claws as he did one paw and then the other before curling back into place. “Everything I’ve done is so that will happen. My whole life has been leading up to it, and it’s been the only thing I’ve wanted for so long, I don’t know if I can care about anything else.” Royce’s tone was deathly serious. “I want to be honest. You should know what you’re getting with me.”

  Pressure squeezed my body, turning me immobile.

  My sister’s words flitted through my mind. Hales can’t love anyone but themselves. Even here in Royce’s bedroom, it felt cold and impersonal. There weren’t photographs of his family, not even his mother who’d died when he was young. Just the pet, who seemed to be a tool of defiance against his father.

  But . . . I appreciated him being upfront. Macalister had said marriage was an important partnership, and I believed it. I wouldn’t want to work with someone who didn’t respect me or refused to see me as an equal. I believed Royce did.

  “You took my father’s deal for a reason,” he said, “and the same is true for me. Securing my future as the head of the company is all that matters.” His hand froze mid-stroke on Lucifer’s back. “There are a lot of hoops I still have to jump through, now and even after I’m on the board, and . . . I’m going to need your help.”

  I swallowed a breath. “How so?”

  “Win at all costs is the Hale family motto, so there will be times I’m going to say or do things you’re not going to like.” His expression was resigned, like a doctor delivering tough news. “I’ll be mean, Marist. Maybe even awful. I’ll tell lies, and when this is all over? You might think I’m worse than my father.”

  My hands, which had been resting in my lap, tensed into fists and my mouth went dry.