The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

  I wanted to tell her to forget it, to link my fingers with hers as we made our way to the restaurant, but instead I watched as she inspected the broken cufflink and then dug about in her bag for something.

  “It makes more sense to me now,” she said, “you buying Badsley, money being so important. Even the helicopter. Sort of.” She pulled a pair of tweezers from her bag and set about tightening one of the screws that had worked loose. “It’s like proof or something.”

  “Badsley’s not just a way of me making up for my father destroying his family. That’s a big part of it, but I enjoy being there. I like living in Woolton.”

  She frowned, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was concentrating, or if she was skeptical that I enjoyed Woolton and Badsley.

  “Here,” she said, reaching for my shirtsleeve. “All fixed.” She slid the silver through the holes and snapped it into place. “Perfect.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  She smiled, clearly proud of her repair. “Have you done everything you set out to?” she asked. “Even though your father’s sins weren’t your own, you seem to have taken them on like they were.”

  “I’m far from done, but I don’t think it’s about just making money anymore. You using that article in the council meeting was…”

  Darcy winced. “I’m sorry. I did whatever—”

  “It was a smart move. You went for my Achilles heel. Takes guts. But that article made me reassess. I don’t want success for its own sake anymore. I don’t need it, and I don’t want to have a legacy of destruction. I want to build something of my own. I’ve always taken on other people’s businesses and improved them or sold them, but I’ve never built anything from the ground up. That’s what I want to do with Manor House Club.”

  She groaned. “I can’t regret that it’s not coming to Woolton, Logan.”

  “I know. And there’s an upside to me losing that fight—I’m sitting here with you.”

  The corners of her mouth turned up as she shook her head.

  “I mean it,” I said as the car slowed to a stop outside the hotel. “Here we are.”

  I would never have called myself a romantic, but I’d wanted to do something special for Darcy. And I wanted her to know that dinner with me was something to be savored and enjoyed rather than tolerated and endured. As much as she clearly had money, her life didn’t seem to involve much indulgence, and tonight I wanted to be a little decadent, indulge her a little. I liked to see Darcy’s smile and I’d enjoy seeing her wearing it more often around me.

  I opened her car door and guided her to the hotel entrance, my hand on the small of her back. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been here before,” I said as we rode up in the lift.

  “To Windows?” she asked, referring to the restaurant at the top of the hotel. “I haven’t. I heard it has a wonderful view.”

  I nodded as the doors opened on the twenty-eighth floor. She stepped out and I followed. A member of staff held a tray of champagne as we entered the restaurant. Tonight was a risk. Darcy’s comfort zone would be a picnic in Badsley’s woods or a home-cooked meal made with products from the farm shop. But I wanted to push her a little. Make her realize that she might enjoy things she’d not properly considered. Including me.

  She turned to me when she saw the quiet restaurant. “Are we the only diners?” she asked.

  “I thought it would be less distracting if it was just the two of us.”

  “So you just hired out the entire restaurant?” she asked as if she thought it was the craziest thing she’d ever heard, but I couldn’t tell if under the shock she was a little pleased.

  I followed as she wandered farther inside. Floor-to-ceiling windows on all four sides of the circular room gave us the best view in London. “If you look into the distance, the countryside is right there. I thought this was the perfect combination of great food with rural views,” I said. “And it’s very glamorous. Which I thought would suit you.”

  “Are you serious?” she asked, turning to face me. “I live in jeans and if I manage to put a comb through my hair most days, I’m doing well.”

  I paused and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Sometimes, I think you’re scared of being beautiful. And perhaps a little frightened of letting go and just enjoying yourself. I thought we could both indulge a little this evening. And I’ll get to enjoy your beauty even if you don’t. This evening you look particularly stunning.”

  “I just have some makeup on,” she mumbled as she scanned the room.

  “Stop making excuses for being gorgeous. Have you seen yourself this evening?” I countered. “You’re beautiful with or without the makeup, but tonight you’re like a Roman goddess.”

  As I stepped forward, she tipped her head back. “You’re right. I’m a terrible compliment receiver, so I’m going to go with thank you.”

  I swept a strand of hair that had escaped one of the pins away from her face and a blush dusted her cheeks.

  Perhaps she didn’t think I was such a terrible date after all.

  “How is your cufflink holding up?” she asked, glancing down at my sleeve. Her fingers dipped under the cotton and against my skin, sending shivers across my body.

  “Holding,” I said. “You’ve always got a solution.” I met and worked with a lot of clever, independent women, and though Darcy had never set foot in an office, she was one of the most capable women I’d ever met.

  I smoothed my hand up her back and she blinked slowly and then stepped away from my touch. “Let’s take a seat,” I said.

  “But where?” Her grin lit up the room as she twirled around in a circle amongst the empty tables.

  “We can move with every course, if you like, to get a different view.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too much. But tonight, I’m going to enjoy it.” She chose a table overlooking Hyde Park.

  Although I knew money wouldn’t impress Darcy, I’d meant to make an impression by hiring out the restaurant. To go beyond what any other man had done on a date. As much as she would have dated wealthy men before, I knew the British aristocracy weren’t fond of extravagance—yet it was what she deserved. And I wanted to stand out to her, as she did to me. But I hadn’t imagined seeing such delight painted across her face.

  It was intoxicating.

  She wasn’t pretending that she did this all the time. She wasn’t trying to make me feel bad for being indulgent or even for bringing her to London. She was enjoying herself, just as I’d hoped. I’d never had so much fun with a woman. Never enjoyed someone’s pleasure quite so much.

  “You can see the Serpentine, even in the dark. Look,” she said turning to me.

  It was just possible to see the light catching the water of the lake between the parting of the trees in Hyde Park. “You can,” I replied. “And Apsley House, down here.”

  “Gah,” she said. “I love that place.”

  I grinned, enjoying that she knew it and loved it. “It’s my favorite thing to do in London. That huge statue of Napoleon at the bottom of the stairs? I love that Wellington kept his archenemy at the heart of his home.”

  “It’s an interesting way to deal with your nemesis, for sure. Are you going to install something at Badsley?”

  I chuckled. “No enemies. None worthy of a sculpture, anyway,” I said. She’d been my most worthy opponent.

  “I’m surprised you have time to take in the sights when you’re in London.”

  I took a seat opposite her. “I haven’t been for a while—perhaps you’ll take me.”

  “Take you sightseeing? I don’t think so. I’m a busy girl.”

  I couldn’t remember wanting to touch, stroke, connect with a woman, like I did Darcy. Being on opposite sides of the table created too much of a divide between us. I reached, brushing my thumb under her chin. “I like that about you.”

  She sat back in her chair and looked at me as if she were trying to see inside my brain. “Is this your general M.O.? With wome
n? Dazzle them with this kind of thing?”

  The waiter placed napkins on our laps and left us with the menus.

  “No. Normally my M.O. involves no more than a drink and a compliment.”

  “Then why all this?” she said scanning the room. “It’s a lot.”

  “Too much?” Had I read her enjoyment wrong? Was this a step too far out of her comfort zone?

  “If this is what you think you need to do to get me into bed, then yes, it’s too much.”

  “You think I’ve done this so at the end of the night you’ll feel obligated to sleep with me?”

  “No, more that maybe you’re trying to…seduce me.”

  “I can’t decide whether you want me to reassure you that you’re different, or if you’re trying to shame my sexual appetite.”

  “Both, maybe,” she replied, tracing the edge of her glass with a delicate finger.

  It was the most honest answer I’d ever had from a woman. When I thought about it, Darcy was never anything but honest with me. She never dressed anything up, or paid me false compliments to ingratiate, the way so many others did. I’d never known her to say anything she didn’t mean.

  “Well, you are different.”

  “More of a conquest?”

  I liked smart women, but Darcy was something else. “I think it’s my default setting to see everyone and everything as something to be conquered. And with you it might have started out that way. Getting you here might have been partly me wanting to prove to myself that I could have what I wanted.”

  “Partly?”

  “There’s something I like about you that I don’t understand, but I’m here to explore it.”

  “But you can’t work out whether or not you want to sleep with me,” she said.

  I frowned. “No. I’m absolutely sure I want to sleep with you. If I’m holding back, it’s because I’m not used to knowing the women I fuck.” She deserved the same honesty from me that I had from her.

  “And that’s a problem because?”

  Clearly, she wasn’t averse to sleeping together, hadn’t balked when I’d been clear about my desire for her. “Because sex is usually just sex. And sometimes I like the woman. Sometimes I don’t know her. But it doesn’t matter. Because I don’t need to know her or like her.”

  “No feelings involved. No awkwardness the morning after. Well, maybe I’m the same.”

  I laughed. “You want to use me for my body.”

  She looked up at me from under her lashes. “It’s nice, from what I’ve seen of it.”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s who you are. Not deep down inside.” I reached across the table and linked my fingers through hers. She shrugged at my response. She knew I was right. But she was even practical and straightforward about seduction. There was no hiding anything. Nothing unspoken between us. “I’m having a lot of fun tonight. What do you say we just take each moment as it comes and see where it leads us?”

  Any other woman and she’d be naked right now. But this wasn’t about sex for me. And her pretending it was for her was a defense mechanism. In the same way that she didn’t see herself as glamorous or beautiful, she didn’t get that I wanted to have dinner with her and get to know her. I wanted to earn it if it happened. And I wanted to deserve it when it did.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Logan

  I wasn’t ready for this evening to be over. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked so much. Listened so hard. Laughed so often. Dinner with Darcy had exceeded every expectation I’d had. As we pulled up at Woolton Hall, I stroked my thumb over our linked hands before releasing her so I could get out to open her door.

  I hadn’t even kissed her yet, but every molecule in my body vibrated with the need to pull her close.

  “Come in,” she said as I took her hand and helped her out of the car.

  I wanted her and I wouldn’t say no despite knowing that if I was being practical, sensible, I should decline her invitation. I wasn’t about to make a habit of this evening—not the dinner, not even the sex. Sex was always a one-time deal. But the sensible part of me wasn’t the one in charge anymore.

  I followed her up the steps, her gold dress rustling as she walked and drew my attention to the sway of her hips and the smooth skin of her back.

  She opened the huge oak door and kicked off her heels as we stepped inside.

  “Thank God. My feet,” she groaned. “Let me grab some whiskey. Stay here.”

  She disappeared up the corridor, but returned carrying a decanter of alcohol and two glasses. I took the decanter and she transferred the glasses so she held one in each hand, then pulled up the front of her skirt and ascended the stairs.

  She opened the latch of her bedroom door and briefly glanced over her shoulder before she stepped inside. Did she think I might not follow her?

  As we stepped inside, she slid the glasses onto an old wooden chest and flicked on the bedside lights.

  “So, how do you want to—”

  I put my finger over her lips. “Know that I enjoy how independent you are. How you call me on my shit. That you don’t let me get away with anything when we talk. Outside of this room we are equals. But also know that when we’re fucking, I’m in charge. There’s no room for debate. Nothing’s up for discussion. You will do what I say, when I say it, how I say it.”

  Her breath grew short and a scatter of goosebumps rose across her arms. “Logan. That’s not me. It’s not who I am.”

  “Maybe it is, and you just don’t realize it.” I pushed back her silky brown hair from her face.

  Her eyes lowered to the floor. “What if it isn’t?”

  “Trust me. You’ll like it better this way.” Responsibility seeped through Darcy’s pores. She was strong because she’d had to be, practical because that was what was required of her. We’d be perfectly suited in bed because while we were fucking, she wouldn’t have to think about any of that. Everything would be my responsibility. “Do you understand?”

  Her eyelids flickered, but she nodded. “I’m not sure I’ll be very—”

  I circled my arm around her waist and jerked her toward me, pulling her against my throbbing erection. “That’s the point—you don’t need to worry about anything.”

  I released her. “Undress me.”

  She hesitated, then brought her trembling fingers to the buttons of my shirt. Glancing between my face and my shirt, she worked the buttons open and pulled my bowtie free.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Darcy. Your tight, generous arse.”

  She circled me and pulled my jacket off.

  “Your tiny waist. Those sparkling eyes.”

  She undid my cufflinks, placing them carefully on the bedside table, then pulled my shirt from my trousers, her cool fingers trailing over my hot skin as she pushed the cotton over my shoulders. It was as if she was hypnotized by my body as she trailed a finger around the skin above my waistband. She settled in front of me, her fingers fiddling with the opening of my trousers.

  “I like every part of you that I’ve seen. Now I want to see if I like the parts you’ve been hiding just as much. Is your pussy as soft and hot as I think it will be?” She paused, her fingers frozen as she caught her breath. “Will you moan desperately when I suck and bite your nipples?”

  As if need and desperation coursed through her body, she softened and weakened, and she lost her balance. I slid my hands around her waist to keep her upright. She took a breath and released my trousers, looking me right in the eye as she slid down my boxer briefs, kneeling as she did.

  “Good girl,” I said as she made quick work of my shoes and socks. “Now stand.” If she was down there for a second longer, the temptation to fuck her mouth would overwhelm me.

  “I’m not sure I like being ordered about.”

  “Just do it. Don’t think about whether you like it.”

  She rose to her feet, her gaze fixed on my thick, hard dick, already full and throbbing against my stomach.

&nbs
p; “Keep doing as you’re told and you’ll get plenty of my cock. Turn around.”

  She looked up at me, her forehead furrowed. She ran her tongue over her top lip but she slowly turned.

  Jesus, did she realize that every move she made drove me to fuck her into the next universe?

  I unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet, revealing nothing but her naked back and black lace knickers. She was beginning to belong to me.

  “No bra,” I said, the words almost catching in my throat. “Turn around.”

  She stepped out of her dress and turned to face me.

  “Off,” I said, nodding at her underwear.

  She hesitated, transferring her weight from one leg to the other.

  “I want to see your pussy. Take them off—don’t make me ask again.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, clearly reticent.

  We were at a turning point. Would she surrender? I kept silent as she tried to decide if she was willing to submit.

  Her breath grew heavier and pride circled in my belly as she snuck her thumbs into either side of her underwear and slipped them off.

  She’d willingly relinquished control. She was mine.

  And she’d never looked so beautiful.

  As she straightened, she folded her arms, covering her chest. I shook my head. “No.” I pulled her arms apart. “This is my body while we are together like this. You don’t get to cover it up. It’s mine to inspect, to worship, to use, to fuck. You’ve given it to me.”

  I trailed a finger up from her belly button to her perfectly ripe breasts, her dusty pink nipples already hard and desperate for my touch. Pinching each one between my thumb and forefinger, she frowned, then tipped her head back on a gasp.

  “I get to do whatever I want with you.”

  “Logan,” she whispered. “Don’t hurt me.”

  I wasn’t into BDSM in any real sense, though I’d tried it a couple of times, been to a few clubs. What I liked was control. To establish the balance of power. To have someone trust me to give them what we both needed. I released Darcy’s breasts and cupped her head in my hands. “All I’m going to do is make you feel good.”