The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

  A lot, baby. A hell of a lot. “I don’t have to try very hard,” I said, keeping things deliberately ambiguous.

  Who was I kidding? Of course I’d like to close the deal with this woman. I might have done business with her brother, and we might be neighbors, but I was rarely intrigued by a woman. If she was up for it, I’d definitely like to explore that. Explore her. See how those curves moved when they weren’t covered up–having a type meant I’d been indulging in the same body over and over for the last couple of years. Perhaps fucking Darcy would keep things interesting.

  She narrowed her eyes and I held her gaze, willing her to challenge me. I liked her spirit.

  But Ryder interrupted us as he came back to the table slicing through whatever that had been building between us. “Darcy, don’t hate me, but we have to go. There’s been a security alert at the airport and they’re requiring an early check-in.” He sighed. “I hate flying commercial.”

  “Really?” She looked devastated. “Since when did you start flying commercial?”

  “Trying to fly private into China is ridiculous. Come on, I’ll drop you off on the way.”

  She glanced at me, and for a moment my heart lifted in my chest. Was she going to stay with me? But her gaze didn’t fall on me, it went to the plate of pasta that had just been delivered.

  My seduction technique clearly needed some polishing up, but it was probably for the best. Going home for the weekend to see my grandmother might get difficult if something was to happen with Darcy. I had no idea if she’d have some kind of expectation of me beyond sex. And there was nothing to expect of me in that regard.

  “Stay and eat,” I suggested out of nowhere. “I can see you home.”

  “It’s just around the corner. I can see myself home.” Darcy glanced at Ryder and then back at me. “But I’ll stay and have dinner. No point in it going to waste.”

  “Good idea. I know how much you like your pasta,” Ryder said.

  “I’ll see you and Scarlett in a couple of weeks?” Darcy said.

  “Yes, we’re bringing the kids. We’ll have plenty of time then, more than just a rushed half dinner.”

  Darcy’s shoulders sank. “Okay,” she said slumping back into her seat. “Don’t miss your flight.”

  “Good to see you, Darcy, and Logan,” he said, looking at me. “Don’t let her walk home on her own.”

  “Absolutely on all counts,” I said and shook Ryder’s hand. “She’s safe with me.” That was a blatant lie. Thirty seconds ago, I’d been imagining his sister naked, her large breasts swaying as I thrust into her from behind. Shit. I swallowed. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.” I nodded and tried to look serious.

  “You look a little flustered,” Darcy said when Ryder left. She picked up her fork and began to twist it in the strands of pasta.

  “Me? I don’t get flustered.” Thinking about a business colleague’s sister, naked and panting while shaking his hand, was as close as I’d ever gotten to flustered. I clearly needed to get laid. I should drop Darcy off and find a bar somewhere. Something to take this edge off.

  “So, you seem close with your grandmother. What’s that about?” she asked, then popped a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth.

  That was an easy way to shut down my imagining what was under her jumper, how much I’d like to peel off her jeans. “What do you mean? She’s my grandmother.”

  “But you seem close. She lives with you, or you with her. At the weekend, at least.” She sat back and narrowed her eyes, studying me as if she thought I might be a closet jewel thief.

  “We’ve always been close. We’re a small family, and I’m her only grandson. I like to look after her.”

  “Where are your parents?” she asked, slipping another forkful of pasta into her mouth.

  My family background was nothing I wanted to get into. “Wanna know my blood group?”

  She shrugged. “It’s called conversation—you’re not used to it?”

  I chuckled. “You’re just direct.” I didn’t talk with the women I fucked. There was no need. And I didn’t have women friends I took to dinner. I was unprepared for whatever it was we were doing.

  “I guess. I’m just interested. There’s a lot of things about you that add up, but living with your grandmother on weekends isn’t one of them.”

  “What doesn’t add up about it?”

  “Well, you’re a guy, who’s what, thirty-five?”

  I nodded. Jesus, was that just a guess?

  “You’re rich, good-looking…”

  Yes and yes.

  “Cocky. Clearly a player.”

  “Now that’s not very nice,” I said.

  “Do you prefer ‘confident’ and ‘likes women’?” she asked, grinning.

  I grinned. “Much better.” This girl.

  “But you don’t spend your weekends in London partying, entertaining, or enjoying the good life. You’re home having tea on the terrace.”

  “I can enjoy the good life while drinking tea on the terrace. Badsley’s gardens are beautiful.”

  She laughed. “But you get my point.”

  “Well, maybe I’m complicated.”

  “Maybe not.” She grinned at me and then beckoned over the waiter. “Can I have the bill, please?”

  Apparently, she was done. “How was your pasta?” I asked, wanting our conversation to continue.

  “Good,” she said, her eyes flashing—carefree and enthusiastic in a way I’d not seen before. “How was yours?”

  The waiter delivered the bill. “I’ll get—”

  “You absolutely will not.” She snatched it out of my reach. “This is my treat.”

  I grinned. It was something my grandmother would say. “Darcy,” I warned. “Let me pay. What would Ryder think if I let you?”

  “He’d think it was the twenty-first century and I could afford a bowl of pasta and a steak.” She handed over her credit card and punched her PIN into the machine.

  “Not many women have bought me dinner.”

  “Probably because you don’t deserve it,” she said, smiling at me as if she’d paid me a huge compliment. “Well, it’s been enlightening, neighbor, but I have a big day tomorrow, so I’m going to have to get my beauty sleep.”

  “Darcy, you picking up the bill is one, but there’s no way on Earth I’m going to let you walk home on your own.”

  “It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll just walk behind you, and that’s just going to look as if I’m following you—I could get arrested. You want that on your conscience?”

  She stood and pulled on her jacket. Her jeans clung to her hips in the most delicious way and her jumper that, although it wasn’t low-cut, made her breasts look bigger than I remembered. It took all my willpower to keep my eyes on her face.

  “You okay?” she asked as she pulled her bag off the back of her chair.

  “Yes,” I said, indicating I’d follow her out. How did she manage to look so sexy without any effort? I liked that she hadn’t dressed up. Sure, she’d been out with her brother, but still, she was confident enough that she didn’t have to put on a ton of makeup or wear a provocative outfit. Did she realize she was just innately sexy? Did she know that ninety percent of the men in this restaurant had imagined her naked? “Let’s go,” I said, blocking her, territorially. I could look at her without dribbling. Just. But I wasn’t sure it would be true for all the other guys in this place.

  We climbed the steps in single file and when we got to the top she paused, glanced at me over her shoulder and smiled a small, sweet, private smile that pulled all the breath from my lungs.

  “You’re beautiful,” I spluttered before I could help myself.

  She laughed and pulled up the collar of her jacket. “You make it sound like that’s a problem. I thought you were supposed to be this smooth player.”

  I chuckled. “You’re right. I’m an idiot. It’s just…”

  She ignored me and started up the road
, so I strode after her until we walked next to each other, our hands burrowed into our pockets.

  “I don’t normally tell women.” That wasn’t true. I told women they were beautiful all the time, but in a way that was unthinking. As if I was talking about the weather or my commute. Not that they weren’t beautiful. I just didn’t focus on it. But with Darcy, it came out cack-handed because it was true. I knew it and I meant it. “Not women I’m friends with.”

  “We’re friends?” she asked. “Since when?” Her eyes danced mischievously under the overhead streetlights.

  I nudged her with my shoulder, trying to bite back a grin. “You’re hard work, Miss Westbury.”

  “I’m just immune to your player ways. That’s what growing up knee-deep in mud and climbing trees does to you.”

  “Inoculates you from being seduced by inappropriate men?”

  “This is you trying to seduce me?” She stopped walking, the streetlight behind her, catching on the stray strands of hair, lifted by the wind. She was more than beautiful. I stepped closer to her and she took a step back, so she was flat against the wall of one of Mayfair’s grand townhouses.

  Women I normally spent time with were glossy and primed, with perfect bodies and sharp minds. Darcy was like a fresh, floral breeze that had floated in and made every other woman I’d ever known seem like they were trying a bit too hard.

  I moved closer again and swept a strand of hair away from her face. Her breath hitched and my eyes dipped to her mouth, down to her full breasts and back up so our eyes locked. She was edible. I wanted to sink my teeth into that soft, milky-white skin, slip my hands under her jumper, and squeeze and pull at her nipples until she groaned and begged me for more.

  She reached up and trailed a finger along my jaw and I blinked, enjoying the warmth of her touch.

  I placed my hands on either side of her head. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  We both stared at each other, heat building between us as we savored the moment before I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers. She smoothed her palms up my chest and I tried to savor the feeling each place our bodies joined. She tasted of summer meadows and rain, and I wanted to treat her like glass and fuck her into next week at the same time.

  I broke off, uncertain about whether I could stop myself if I stayed as close for any longer.

  “Hey. I’m not done yet.” She beamed up at me.

  I growled, and pressed up against her, my hips pinning her to the wall, showing her who was in charge. “You don’t get to say if we’re done or not.”

  She braced her hands against my shoulders and tried to hold me back. “I don’t get a say?”

  Hearing her reaction to it, my comment sounded brash and unnecessary, but I was so used to running things in my sexual encounters. But there was nothing normal about what we were doing. Not for me. She was a neighbor. She knew my grandmother. I was likely to run into her all the time. She was definitely not someone I should be taking to bed.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t kiss her once more.

  She gasped as I ran my tongue over her lips and delved inside. She tasted perfect—warm and soft—but I couldn’t stop thinking about how her pussy would be sweeter. It was the last place I should be letting my mind wander to, but her fingers were tightening in my shirt and her short little breaths were pulling at my patience and hardening my cock.

  Before I gave in and pulled her legs around my waist and ground against her knickers, she broke off our kiss, and ducked under my arm. “Yes, well. I think that’s quite enough.” She cleared her throat and smoothed down her clothes. “This is me,” she said, avoiding my gaze and nodding at the door. “Thank you for walking me home.”

  It was as if she’d stopped herself before she wouldn’t be able to. Before she lost control. Before she enjoyed herself too much.

  “It was very much my pleasure,” I replied, wondering if she was the same in bed. I imagined she didn’t get much opportunity to let loose. Those country boys probably thrust in and out a few times, never giving her pleasure a second thought. I’d like to fuck her until she had no choice but to come—sweaty, screaming and desperate.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Player,” she said, trying to bite back a smile as she turned the key in the lock and went inside.

  I repressed a smile. She was just so bloody adorable. But thankfully, she’d not invited me to come in. I would have said no and hated myself for it. Or worse, I’d have said yes and hated myself for it.

  Either way, Darcy Westbury was a lose-lose situation. And I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d see her again.

  Chapter Nine

  Darcy

  It still didn’t feel quite right to be hosting people at Woolton Hall. My grandparents had been natural hosts. But I’d have to get better at it—the summer party would be here before I knew it. I straightened the last row of chairs in the dining room just as Aurora came in, carrying a tray of sandwiches.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Just put them on the table.” I’d pushed the dining table against the back wall to make room for the fifteen chairs I’d arranged in three rows. As well as the Woolton W.I. chapter, a number of other local groups had been invited along to listen to the speaker today.

  “What time are they arriving?” Aurora asked.

  “Any moment,” I replied. “But I think we’re ready.” I could have used a number of rooms at Woolton for the W.I. meeting, but this one wasn’t too big and held wonderful memories.

  “What’s the speaker talking about?”

  “The economy and whether or not we’re about to hit another financial crisis.”

  “Cheery,” Aurora said. “I think I prefer jam-making.”

  This was my opportunity to tell Aurora about Logan. We’d done our preparations and were ready for people to arrive. “I have something to tell you,” I said, straightening the tablecloth even though it was already perfectly straight. “About a guy.”

  Aurora wore a huge smile as if I’d just offered her wine and ice cream at the same time. “Are you dating someone?”

  “Gosh, no,” I said, removing an invisible piece of lint from the cloth. “But I did kiss Logan Steele and it’s no big deal. It’s not that I like him or anything, don’t get the wrong idea. It was just the circumstances and before I knew it, it just happened.”

  “Darcy, stop babbling.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “You absolutely should have. This is amazing news. When, where, how? Tell me everything!”

  I shrugged and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Ryder and I ran into him when we were in London,” I explained. “He walked me home when Ryder headed off. It just kind of happened.”

  “I caught a glimpse of him in the farm shop the other day,” she said. “He’s very handsome.” She pretended to fan herself with her hand. “So, was it just a kiss?”

  “Of course it was.”

  She sighed as she twisted the corkscrew into a white wine bottle. “Shame.”

  “Aurora!”

  “Seriously, you need to get laid. How long’s it been now?”

  “Too long,” I mumbled, remembering the last time—I’d known I was going to end things with Henry, so it had been a little sad.

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked. “He’s a neighbor. And that article.”

  “Ignore the newspaper—you have to make up your own mind. And I think you’re crazy not to have slept with him.” She shrugged and began pouring wine into the glasses lined up on the table next to the sandwiches.

  “I’m not going to just sleep with every man I meet, Aurora—don’t act as if you’re sleeping with every guy you have dinner with.”

  “No, you’re right, I’m not, but I’m not having dinner with men that look like Logan Steele, either.”

  That was for sure—there weren’t many men who looked like Logan. Echoes of his hard body as he’d pressed against me, his firm grip and intense stare set goosebumps off over my skin.
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  “I’m delighted for you.”

  “It’s not like anything else is going to happen. He’s not my type.”

  “Just relax about who is and isn’t your type and go with it. You should definitely fuck him, even if it’s to find out if he’s really hung as well as someone that good-looking should be.”

  I didn’t tell Aurora about the grinding. I was pretty sure he didn’t have a problem with penis size. Ego size? That was a different matter. “I just don’t think he needs me feeding his ego by being all into him.”

  “I’m suggesting you sleep with him.” She pulled out the cork with a satisfying pop. “You don’t have to fall in love. I know things have been tough. But you always cope with throwing yourself into work—protecting the Westbury legacy or something. Maybe try a different tactic. Have some fun.”

  Kissing Logan had been fun. And I found him interesting. I hadn’t given him enough credit. He was more than some wealthy idiot who was obsessed with money and success.

  “You think I’m the sort of person capable of just having a casual affair?” I’d half-expected Aurora to tell me I was being an idiot and men like that didn’t go for girls like me. The fact that she was so encouraging opened a door in my brain and allowed me to remember how perfect the kiss had been and how a second one might be even better.

  “You won’t know until you try. And what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “An STD?”

  “Use protection.”

  We laughed.

  “Maybe you’re right.” The press of his palms against mine, the scrape of scruff and the growl of his voice. Would I get a chance to feel it all again?

  Luckily, the doorbell chiming down the corridor distracted me from thinking about when I would see him next. How I’d shivered when he’d said I didn’t get to tell him when we were done. How I’d felt a little giddy as I’d said goodbye and gone inside. About how I wanted him to kiss me again. And soon.

  “Hello, Mrs. Lonsdale,” I said, forgetting my nerves at being hostess. “There are sandwiches, cordial, water and even some wine on the table.”

  “The perfect hostess, just like your grandmother.”