Tarnished Empire: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

by Ava Harrison

  7

  Phoenix

  The rapid beat of my heart should be enough to make me wonder if I’m in a bit over my head.

  The thing is, stubbornness is a trait of mine, so regardless of my body trying to warn me, I refuse to let it. Even though my brain screams at me to pick up the phone and call this entire thing off, I don’t.

  I’m sure George is in place by now—and even if I want to, it’s probably too late to turn back. I just need to put my big girl panties on and walk out the door.

  One more glance, and then it’s time.

  I head over to the mirror in the foyer of my hotel suite.

  Everything is as it should be.

  All the pieces of my façade are in place.

  My dark brown hair is pulled up in a messy bun with slight wisps framing my face to give me a sexy beach vibe. My dress has a plunging neckline that dips almost to my naval. I’m not one for jewelry, but today, I have a diamond pendant that falls low in the valley of my breasts.

  Nothing is left to the imagination in this crisp white form-fitting dress. If this doesn’t distract him, I don’t know what will.

  According to what George said, the guns we’re looking for are imperative to my father’s survival. He will not have enough inventory to give his client without this shipment. Not only has the client paid in full, but he’s also one who’s not to be trifled with.

  No. This could be my father’s last chance. He saved me when I was nine. This is my chance to return the favor.

  To save him.

  I’ll find the guns, then he’ll give them to the client, and everything will be okay.

  It’s a solid plan with a bonus that maybe when I’m in Alaric’s office, I’ll be able to find something else incriminating to use against him in the future.

  This can kill two birds with one stone.

  This Phoenix can at least hope.

  After I double- and triple-check that my outfit and face are to my liking, I head out the door. My hotel is close to the pier, so instead of getting a ride, I walk. Yeah, my heels are probably too high for the trek, but it’s an excellent way to expend some of my nervous energy.

  Throughout my walk, I check my phone. George hasn’t called, and neither has my father. I didn’t expect them to, but still, it doesn’t settle my stomach not knowing whether everything is going to go as planned.

  The air, although warm, isn’t unpleasant, and a gentle breeze picks up as I get closer to the docks.

  There’s a chill in the night air once there.

  Small goosebumps form on my arms from the breeze coming off the ocean. But even as cold as it is, it’s not cold enough to ruin my outfit by wearing a coat, however it appears my nipples have a different opinion as they have pebbled into hard peaks beneath my white dress. It probably will add to my allure, or at least that’s what I hope as I approach the boat.

  His boat isn’t a boat, but rather an enormous yacht. The thing of beauty gleams against the night sky.

  It’s much bigger than I had imagined, but from what I have heard, Alaric Prince lives on his yacht.

  When I’m standing close enough, I can see on the side of the boat is the name that makes me cringe. Empire.

  It makes me want to turn back. I don’t need a reminder he is the king here, but he’s about to find out, unlike his little soldiers, I’m no peasant.

  There is no turning back now, so with my head held high and my shoulders pulled back, I make my last approach, tearing down walls that I never knew I had inside me until I embarked on this mission.

  Soon I’m standing in front of one of his men. The man is tall and jacked. He looks like he spends half his life in the gym and the other half probably torturing people for fun.

  As he looks at me, I wonder if I’m his next victim, but before I can turn around, he’s stepping aside and allowing me to pass.

  The party isn’t in full swing yet; only a few people milling around the deck. They are all drinking and laughing, but that’s why I’m here early. I plan to slip in and mingle, and when more guests arrive, I’ll sneak beneath the party deck and look around.

  If what George says is true, and Alaric Prince does live here, the guns could be on this boat, or maybe at least an address or something.

  I keep walking as I allow my eyes to take in my surroundings.

  I don’t see George, but if he said he’d be here backing me, then he will. And knowing George, I won’t see him unless I need him.

  I’m on the deck when I see Alaric from the corner of my eye. Tiny goosebumps form on my exposed skin as he makes his way over to me.

  He looks dashing as always, dressed in black pants and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

  The worst part is the way he looks at me. The way his full lips tip up slightly on the right side of his face into a perfect smirk is downright sinful.

  One that says he knows just how perfect he is.

  Too bad he’s the enemy. If he wasn’t, I might allow myself to get lost in him for a moment.

  He’s not the man you fall in love with.

  He’s not the type you hang your hopes and dreams on.

  He’s the man who uses you and then spits you out.

  It’s a good thing he’s the enemy. I can’t afford to let myself get lost in anyone, especially someone so deadly.

  The closer he gets, the more unnerved I get. His eyes trail over me, starting on my legs and moving to the valley between my breasts until our gaze locks.

  His blue eyes are stormy.

  Full of emotions I can’t place.

  I see lust.

  I feel it. It exudes through the strained muscles in his face and neck.

  I feel the lust too. It’s thick in the air, making my skin heat. My cheeks flush at the way he looks me up and down.

  His gaze slithers over me seductively.

  He’s so damn enticing, but I need to remind myself why I’m here. I’m not here for that. And as much as he warms my body with his stare, I can’t get lost in the fire he stokes within me.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asks as he places his hand on the small of my back and walks me toward the bar. A few people are already standing there, but I know he won’t wait. Alaric doesn’t wait. The crowd parts for us as we walk past them.

  Like the Red Sea. Like a king.

  Well, technically a prince, but something tells me his name is not enough for the man that he is.

  “Glass of champagne,” I respond.

  The bubbles will loosen my nerves. I’ll need all the help I can get if I’m going to sneak around this place.

  He’s quick to get me my glass, and I’m even quicker to drink it.

  Just as I suspected, it calms me. It helps me believe that maybe I can pull this off.

  After a long sip, I lower my glass to smile at him, batting my eyelashes like a seductive temptress.

  “This is beautiful,” I say.

  “Thank you.” He turns from me briefly, looking around the open deck, and gives a nod to someone. The man looks vaguely familiar. I think it’s one of his henchmen who was with him at the club. Once he seems satisfied with whatever silent message he is trying to convey, he turns his attention back to me. “Now that I have you here”—cue grin—“and we can hear each other, what brings you to the Bahamas?”

  “Probably the same as you.” I run my fingers up and down the stem of the champagne flute as I lift my shoulders.

  “And what would that be?” The deep timbre of his voice has my insides growing warm. Not a good thing when I’m supposed to hate this man. At least there is a chance he might fall for my act since I’m so obviously affected by him.

  “Relaxation, of course.” I wish.

  My life right now is anything but relaxing. It takes everything in me not to allow myself to shake like a leaf blowing in the wind as I try to manipulate this man into giving me the ammunition to help my father take him down.

  “And you’re all alone …”

>   I allow my lip to tip up into a playful smile. “What makes you think that?”

  “The fact that you aren’t here with anyone,” he deadpans dryly.

  “I’m in the Bahamas with friends.” Lie. My voice stays leveled. Hopefully, I don’t give myself away.

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “You could have brought your magical friends over.”

  I did, and his name is George. “They had other plans.” The inside of my chest feels like it will burst from the deception, but I keep my breathing steady and throw myself into the mission.

  “And you didn’t want to join them instead? I’m flattered.”

  Snake. The longer we talk about this, the better the chance I give myself away. Time to up the sexy.

  “You should be.” I bite my lip. “Turning you down was hard to do.”

  To that, he gives me a large smile, gleaming white teeth and all.

  “Their loss is my gain.” He lifts his drink to his mouth and takes a sip, all while watching me. Or appraising me is more like it. By the way his blue eyes trail over my body, I feel naked, and the worst part, I like the way he looks at me. It makes my stomach churn, that even though I know he’s at war with my father, I can find him attractive. What kind of person does it make me? “Tell me about yourself.” The deep baritone of his voice pulls me from my inner ramblings. Lifting my glass to my mouth, I use the time it takes me to take a sip to calm my racing heart before I can answer.

  “I just graduated.” I once heard if you are going to lie to keep it as close to the truth as you can, so that’s what I do. I allow myself another taste of the crisp and refreshing champagne and let the bubbles loosen my tongue.

  His eyes never leave me. Instead, he stares at me like the words leaving my mouth are the most interesting things ever said. “What did you get a degree in?”

  “History.”

  My answer makes his eyes taper. “Interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “I never met a history major. Now that you’re done, what do you plan to do with it?”

  His comment is hard to believe, seeing as it’s a very popular subject to study, but I don’t let on my thoughts on the matter.

  “Isn’t that the age-old question? Probably nothing, I guess. Maybe become a historian,” I answer truthfully, or at least my truth before my father called me back. Funny how one phone call can change your life. A part of me always wanted to talk to my father about the business he was in, but I never had the guts until that fateful day in the office. It seems like forever ago, but it’s only been a week. Before that I chose to be ignorant, my life was simple, and now … Now it’s anything but, as I stand here, batting my eyelashes at a man dangerous enough that I should be scared, but instead, I’m wondering if my plan is working.

  “I’d like to see that.” His blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You. Behind a desk.” He parts his lips, and his mouth spreads into a smile, but not just any smile. No, this one is deadly. This smile could suck all the oxygen in the room. Good thing we are outside. “Maybe a pair of glasses.”

  “I said historian, not librarian. And you? What is it that you do?” I step closer to him, feigning interest.

  “Import and exports,” he answers with a straight face.

  Not a lie, but not necessarily the truth. It seems Alaric Prince follows the same rules as I do when it comes to false truths.

  “What do you import?”

  He shrugs at my question, his gaze leaving mine, and looking across the deck.

  “A little of this. A little of that.”

  “And export?”

  “Same.”

  “A man of many words.” He doesn’t answer that with a sarcastic rebuttal, and I wonder if I took it too far. Did I ruin my chances? Blood pounds in my ears at the thought of failing my father. I owe him everything, and I might have lost the game before it even started. But then Alaric lifts his hand and gestures to the small crowd starting to form.

  “Before more people come, would you like me to give you a tour?”

  My heart hammers hard behind my breastbone. This is exactly what I need. A tour to determine the lay of the land. This is perfect.

  I take another sip before placing my glass on the bar.

  “Lead the way.”

  He takes my hand in his and then links our fingers together. It’s intimate, and I have to will myself to stop the butterflies swarming in my stomach.

  Damn. Maybe I shouldn’t have had the champagne because the farther I walk with him and the longer he touches me, the harder I find it to keep my body from shaking with nerves.

  I suck in a slight breath, praying he doesn’t notice, but if he does, at least he’s courteous enough not to mention it.

  One point for the villain.

  I almost chuckle at my endless mental commentary, but I don’t. I can’t fuck this up. As we walk together, he points at the galley. The kitchen. The bar. We take another step, and he smiles. I want to ask why, but he just walks up the stairs.

  “This way. It’s not too many.”

  I follow him up. There’s a parlor, and at the end of the room is another door.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Just my office,” he says as he leads me back toward the stairs.

  “You aren’t going to show me?”

  “Do you want to see my office?”

  He raises a brow, and I realize I’m about to step into a problem if I keep this up, so instead, I lean in toward him.

  “Not really.”

  “Then what is it you want?”

  I bite my lip and meet his gaze. He steps forward, and I step back, hitting the wall. He’s so close I can feel the fabric of his shirt grazing my exposed skin.

  His hand drops from mine and trails up my arm and across my collarbone.

  I lean in closer, and now, his mouth is almost touching mine. I can smell the earthy hints of scotch on his lips.

  “You want me to kiss you,” he states, his warm breath tickling my flesh.

  His fingers cradle my face, and when he pulls back, I get lost in his gaze.

  It feels like I’m on fire, ablaze with a desire I need to extinguish. But will one kiss change anything?

  I don’t have time to think about it before his lips find mine. His mouth opens, asking me to let him in.

  I do. I let him kiss me.

  Allowing our tongues to dance to a seductive rhythm.

  Becoming lost in the sensation.

  Lost to this man.

  He tastes like everything I knew he would.

  Sins and lies.

  His tongue runs across my bottom lip. Mouth hungry, his lips leaving a searing kiss. It’s as if he wants to give me everything. Demand everything.

  But as soon as the kiss starts, he pulls back, his vibrating phone breaking through the haze of lust between us.

  He scoffs at the disturbance, pulling out his phone and reading the message.

  Then he shakes his head. He steps back, and I miss his warmth, but at the same time, relief hits me like a ton of bricks. Five minutes more and I don’t know what I would have done. By the way I was just kissing him, I probably would have abandoned the mission like a love-sick teenager.

  Thankfully, that doesn’t happen because I’d never forgive myself if my dad lost everything.

  “Everything okay?” I whisper, still not one hundred percent over the kiss.

  “I have to go back down.”

  This is my shot. I’m a mere two feet from his office, so maybe I can sneak in without him being the wiser.

  “Where’s the little ladies' room? This lipstick is not going to fix itself.” I make myself sound coy and even blush when he looks at my lips. “Next to the office. You can find your way down?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulls me closer, sealing his lips to mine one more time. My legs are like putty as he worships my mouth and then pushes away.
/>   “What was that?”

  “I figure you won’t let me do that later.” I cock my head at his statement. “After you fix your lipstick,” he clarifies.

  “True.”

  “See you downstairs.”

  As soon as he heads down the stairs, I jet off to the office.

  The door is locked, which I expected. It’s a good thing I can pick a lock—another little thing I picked up in boarding school. I’m sure my father would love to know what his money paid for. Sneaking around and not getting caught.

  I lift my hand and grab the extra bobby pin in my hair. It’s now or never.

  The door creaks open, and I step inside. I close it behind me and make my way toward the desk, pin still in hand. Something tells me I’ll have more locks to pick.

  I begin to search the desk by opening each drawer. I need to be quick so he won’t look for me, but I also need to be thorough.

  Once I pull the drawers open, I rummage through each one, my fingers flipping through papers. The boat dips slightly, and my hand slips.

  A boat must be docking next to us, making the yacht rock from its wake.

  I look through more papers. Something has to be here. I’m in the bottom drawer when I knock on it and hear the echo—a false bottom. My fingers feel around, and I can feel a tiny protruding piece of wood. I carefully lift it, and the wood pops off.

  Bingo.

  I found it.

  It might not be about the guns, but it has to be reliable intel my father can use.

  With the false bottom exposed, I find a lockbox large enough to hold folders.

  Grabbing the pin, I attempt to open it up when I fly backward.

  What the hell? I grip the desk to keep my balance.

  We are moving.

  And not just from another boat. No, this boat … Alaric’s yacht is really moving. It’s as if we are no longer docked, and instead, we are taking a joyride.

  With a deep inhale, I try to remain rational. It wouldn’t be so far-fetched to believe he was taking his guests out for a spin. The night is gorgeous. Maybe he wants to show everyone what his toy can do.

  I wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe some bimbo asked him to.

  But how long will this ride last, and will it affect my plans?

  Shit. I need to get this open, find George, and then we need to abandon ship.