Cocky Prince

by Jules Barnard

  Hayden and her parents didn’t have the resources my family does. She wouldn’t have been able to sustain a scandal like that without more bastards hurting her. “Too many people around this town think it’s their moral obligation, in between living off the gambling and drinking of others, to judge,” I mutter.

  She settles her head on my shoulder. “I came back—that’s all that matters. I’m not running anymore.”

  I stare down at her and lightly kiss her forehead. “You’ll never need to run again.”

  Because as far as I’m concerned, I will do whatever it takes to protect her.

  Hayden

  Adam carries me back to my bed, where he divests me of what little I’m wearing and covers me with his body. It’s warm and cozy, and I’m certain he means it as a comforting gesture, but our bodies can’t sustain close contact before hands begin to wander and heated kisses turn desperate with need.

  In the afterglow of that second bout of lovemaking, I lay my head on top of his chest, our legs entwined. He pulls up a lock of my hair and looks at it in the light of the clock. Which reads two in the morning. I have to work tomorrow, but whatever. I never want to leave this spot.

  “Why does your hair smell so good?” he says. “Like apples and cinnamon. I want to eat it.”

  “Please don’t eat my hair. I need it to keep my head warm.”

  He takes a giant whiff, then carefully sets the lock back on my shoulder. “Don’t get creeped out if I sniff your hair from time to time. It’s your fault it smells so good.”

  “Don’t get creeped out if I smell your neck.”

  He chuckles. “Why my neck?”

  “Because you smell good.”

  His arms tighten around me. “You can smell me. And touch me. As a matter of fact, there’s something reaching for you right now that you’re welcome to touch.”

  I swat his chest and he chuckles. “I can’t believe you have the energy for that. Again.”

  Adam yawns. “I don’t, but there’s another part of me that perks up whenever you’re near. He’s on alert twenty-four-seven.”

  “Good to know for when I wish to take advantage of you.”

  “Twenty-four-seven,” he repeats, his voice groggy, as though he’s falling asleep.

  A few seconds pass, and I’m not even sure if he’s awake. My mind wanders to our conversation earlier. Being stoned by a group of kids from school was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. I felt helpless, but for some reason, sharing it with Adam released a weight from my chest.

  Secure and more comfortable than I can remember being in a long time, I ask the question that’s been on my mind all night. “Adam,” I say quietly.

  “Mmm?”

  “Where is your mother?”

  His breathing stills. Then his chest deflates as he pulls me closer. “She died of cancer when I was six.”

  My hand flexes against his chest at the shock of his confession. “I’m sorry.”

  He rubs my arm. “Was a long time ago.”

  “What about your dad? Are you close to him?” I never found out what his dad wanted to talk to him about tonight, but his father made it clear I wasn’t welcome in the conversation. I can’t imagine Adam’s dad knows about the teacher rumor. Whatever was bothering him, I doubt it had anything to do with me.

  “I’m closer to him than my brothers are, but that’s not saying much.”

  “How can six men who lost the woman in their life not band together?” I want to understand him. And comfort him. And if I’m going to, I need to know more about him.

  He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he says, “After my mother died, my father checked out. In a way, we lost both of them that day—our mother to cancer, and our father to Club Tahoe, where he put all of his energy. The only difference between my brothers and me is that I tried to stay close to our father. I lived the lifestyle he did, I worked for him—I did whatever he asked. Since stepping away to work at Blue, I’ve realized those choices I made never brought us closer. And they never made me happy.”

  His body is tense, a war of emotions playing out on his face—a handsome face that rarely reveals what he’s feeling, always masked by that sexy veneer. But I don’t see that Adam anymore. I see beneath the pretty exterior to the person filled with kindness, caring, intelligence, and sometimes pain. “What makes you happy?”

  He shrugs lightly. “My brothers gave up their trust funds to live their lives the way they want. I thought I couldn’t live without the money.” He peers down and his gaze softens. “But here I am. With you. And I can’t imagine a better life than one filled with jars of flowers and a beautiful girl who walks around in her underwear eating chocolate.”

  I grin, and he squeezes me to him. “When my father approached my brothers and me tonight, I realized it wasn’t the lifestyle I craved. I wanted his time. Doing what he said meant I was close to him in some way, but it was never enough.”

  I crawl on top of Adam until my body is aligned with his, and tuck my face into his neck, my arms cradling his head. I don’t want him to feel alone. Ever. “What did your dad say to you tonight?”

  Adam flattens his hands on my lower back. “He said we should spend more time together as a family.” His chest rises on a deep breath. “I can’t even tell you how ridiculous that statement sounded after so long. He offered what I’ve wanted since my mother died, and I couldn’t take him seriously.”

  I tilt my head to see his face. “Maybe you should. People can change.”

  He shakes his head. “My father—he snaps his fingers and expects us to follow orders. I get the reason why my brothers have butted heads with the old man. He doesn’t know how to…”

  “He doesn’t know how to love you?” I say.

  Adam looks down, then kisses my forehead. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say. This is the first time my father has reached out to us. It’s odd. He is odd lately.” He chuckles. “My dad’s suggestion had one predictable effect. Levi, Wes, Bran, and Hunter stormed out.”

  “Maybe in time you can give your dad a chance. If he’s not used to trying, it couldn’t have been easy for him to make the request, and he may not have known what to say to you and your brothers.”

  “Maybe.” He pulls me up until our mouths are aligned. The pain in his gaze lingers, but it’s quickly being overtaken by a naughty glint I’m beginning to recognize. “That’s enough of that talk. We have a few hours before work. How shall we spend it?” His eyes sparkle as they skitter over my mouth to my breasts pressed against his chest. “We could tick off a few items from my honey-do list.”

  “Are you trying to avoid talking about your father?”

  “Just maximizing our alone time.”

  “I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” I say with a long-suffering sigh that’s entirely insincere.

  “Not if I use my mouth.” He quirks his eyebrows and my heart races.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hayden

  In the spirit of taking it slow, Adam only stayed four nights over the last week. Okay, so that’s not exactly slow. I’ve wanted to see him, and he’s been especially ardent in his attentions. Who knew we’d get along so well?

  “Hayden, have you seen my tie?” he says from my bedroom.

  “Which one?” I call from the hall bathroom. “You have about five hundred.”

  “The navy woven checked.”

  I walk over to where Adam is standing in front of the walk-in closet he built me, dressed in his suit pants and an unbuttoned dress shirt. I glance inside the door, and a chorus of angels sings inside my head—not really, but my closet is so beautiful I could cry. Adam finished it a couple of days ago.

  Two of the three walls in the closet hold narrow shelving for maximum shoe capacity. I allowed for one wall of clothing bars with an extra shelf on top, on his insistence. You know, for those extra shoes I might purchase. And somehow a few of Adam’s clothes have made it onto a bar.

  If I’m a shoe hound, the man
is a clotheshorse.

  “It’s not here?” I ask. “You’re sure you brought it last night?”

  His gaze hovers on me, taking in my black silk bathrobe. He snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me close. “I can’t see anything with all your shoes filling the space. Weren’t you going to get rid of some?”

  “I got rid of a few.” Like one pair. And it hurt.

  He kisses my neck and tugs at the collar of my bathrobe. I slap his hand away and wiggle out of his arms.

  Dropping to the floor, I crawl on my hands and knees and reach for a piece of fabric, toward the back of the closet, that’s stuck beneath a pair of suede Gucci ankle boots.

  I hear him let out a tight breath. “If you don’t want me to touch you while you’re getting ready, this position isn’t helping. You know what it does to me.”

  I look over my shoulder and hold out the tie with a smile, but he’s staring at my ass. “You’re going to be late, Adam.”

  He shakes his head and grabs the tie distractedly, draping it around his neck. “I know, I know.” He buttons his shirt and reaches for his suit coat and wallet, his shoes in his hand.

  Adam doesn’t wear his shoes in the house. He says he wants to keep the place clean. I think it’s sweet. I also think he’s a neat freak. Except in bed. There he’s a dirty, dirty boy.

  He looks over and his gaze strips me bare. “Going to be a long day after that show you just gave me.”

  I stand and lean up, grabbing the back of his head. I kiss him, and it’s not light. It’s long and needy, because as nice as it is to see him at work, it also sucks. We decided to keep our relationship a secret from the employees. Mira and Nessa know, of course, but other than our friends and their significant others, we’ve kept things quiet.

  I want to know our one-week romance is of the lasting variety. Every instinct tells me it is, which is weird and a first for me. The other part of me says, This is Adam.

  I never thought we’d make out, let alone turn our antagonistic working association into a romantic relationship. But we have, and I need time to figure out what that means. Adam is adamant we not tell our coworkers for reasons he refuses to explain. He particularly doesn’t want Blackwell knowing. I’m telling myself it has nothing to do with the fact that Blackwell hates me. It’s not like Blackwell can dictate whom we see. But those Blue Stars are tight-knit, and Adam works alongside them as though he were one. He doesn’t have the sapphire ring, and that’s all that matters.

  I could ask Adam what’s really going on at Blue. That was the plan in getting close to him, but somehow that feels dirty now. Like I used him. What we have isn’t about Blue Casino; it’s about us. Besides, the longer I go without evidence of the illegal suite, the more I question whether it still exists.

  So I found the Bliss schematics. What does it really mean if there is no proof of something illegal? I’ve talked to Mira about the new suites, and she thinks they could be what we’re looking for, but I have my doubts. And as long as those doubts exist, I’m going to entertain the idea that Bliss is nothing more than the set of luxury suites it appears to be.

  Adam

  If I thought I enjoyed my job before, now that Hayden and I are together, life feels damn near perfect. With the exception of the Bliss venture.

  We have three weeks until our grand opening, which coincides with the auction and burlesque event. The burlesque show gives people a reason to come to the casino, and provides the casino a chance to show off—by invitation only—its exclusive Bliss suites to the wealthy.

  Inside my office, the party planner runs down a list of food for the Bliss welcome party. “Cauliflower fritters and caviar, blue cheese and pear tartlets, and Kobe beef sliders to start.” She taps her pad with her pencil, her brown hair swept into a severe bun on top of her head, so tight it pulls the corners of her eyes back. “Dom Pérignon will be offered to kick-start the party after the burlesque show. Blue’s specialty wines will be on offer throughout the rest of the evening and early morning, along with a fully stocked bar.”

  William sits forward, his distinct eyebrows winging up with enthusiasm. “We’ll have three or four of the burlesque dancers who perform that night mingling with party guests.”

  The party planner ticks off items on her list. “And the celebrity DJ from Los Angeles?”

  “I’ve already contracted him,” I say. “The engineers are working with the DJ’s assistant on setup preparations for inside the suite.”

  The planner checks off more items from her clipboard. “Each invited guest will be asked to wear a platinum and sapphire pin to commemorate the event and to help employees identify potential Bliss members as they work their way around the casino and hotel.”

  “What about rooms for the guests?” Paul asks, looking to me.

  “We’ve booked the second half of the penthouse, and the floor beneath. All of the rooms will be stocked with premium towels and personal care products from the Bliss line.”

  Paul glances at his phone and nods to the party planner. “Looks like we’re all set, then.” He stands and the party planner does too, juggling her clipboard and huge workbag, filled with the pamphlets and brochures we’ve used these last couple of months to place orders for the event.

  He shakes her hand. “Thank you for your hard work,” he says, barely looking at her. She’s not flashy or beautiful, and I get the feeling Paul doesn’t give women like her much attention.

  “My pleasure,” she says.

  Paul walks her to the door and closes it behind her. He sits next to William and crosses his legs. “We have a hundred and twenty full membership slots available, thirty-seven of which are already accounted for. Blackwell wants to offer a lesser plan for rotating members who intend to use Bliss on a short-term basis. It will cost them less overall, but more per day, and it allows us to up our membership without compromising full members. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  I stack the paperwork the planner handed me. “Blue will be coming into a windfall.”

  “As will we.” He grins at William, who returns the look.

  I cross the room to a safe I had installed and enter the code, ignoring their enthusiasm.

  “Why are you keeping those?” Paul gestures to the files. “Blackwell wants all Bliss-related material on the cloud, or stored in the off-site safe. Security for this venture is critical. It’s why we invested in that damn military-grade encryption system.”

  “This is a fireproof, locked safe that weighs three hundred pounds. And I’m keeping the information in here until the end of the event in case anything comes up. As hospitality director, my ass is on the line should the event suffer because subcontractors fail to deliver.”

  I tuck the folder in the safe and a knock sounds at the door. Hayden slips inside, a grin on her face—until she spots Paul and William.

  My shoulders tense. I close the safe and move toward my desk, giving her a warning look when Paul and William aren’t looking. We shouldn’t be seen together outside of meetings, particularly not with these two in the room. Hayden has been ordered to stay away from the Bliss business. I don’t want these guys thinking she isn’t.

  “Oh, excuse me,” she says. “I—came to give you a list of applicants.” Her gaze darts to the others as she crosses the room.

  Paul scans her figure, his eyes lingering on her ass. I want to kick him in the face.

  “Why are you working with her?” he says to me, ever smooth. He’s gotten bolder these last few months. The power Blackwell gives him has gone to his head.

  I take the folder from her and give her a courteous smile. Her eyes dart to mine, a question in them, but I look away.

  “I’m working with Hayden,” I say to Paul as I scan the names and backgrounds of the applicants inside the file, “because I need an assistant.” I lean against my desk and cross my legs at the ankle. “Is there a problem?” I give him a pointed glare.

  Paul’s face colors. “Yes. You’re not to work with her.” He stand
s and hovers over Hayden, and my arms tense. “This is private,” he says to her. “And I’d be happy to explain to Blackwell how you’ve disregarded his direct orders and butted in where you’re not wanted.”

  Hayden doesn’t back down. Her chest rises and her expression hardens. “Had I been involved in hiring from the beginning, the issue with the last assistant never would have happened. Did you know she worked for a strip club?”

  Paul rubs his chin. “Did she now? I had no idea.” His words are insincere. And they should be. Paul was the one who told me to hire someone from the strip club. But his boldness worries me. He’s not even trying to keep it a secret. He seems to take pleasure in letting Hayden know she’s been kept in the dark.

  Hayden’s lips press together. “I don’t know what kind of outfit you’re running, but unless you want the authorities coming down on your heads like they did before, I suggest you work with the department designed to help protect the company.”

  Paul steps closer to her. “Is that a threat?” he says, his breathing increasing.

  I stand abruptly and shove him in the chest. He’s lost his damn mind—probably tapping into those drugs the casino has access to.

  He staggers back. “What was that for?”

  “Back off.” My voice is steely. “I needed someone to fill Bridget’s position yesterday. I asked Hayden for help; she isn’t butting in. If there’s a problem, I’ll speak to Blackwell.”

  “What about…” Paul glares at Hayden, then looks to me. “The assistant to the hospitality director plays an important role.”

  He means in relation to Bliss. “I understand, but some allowances must be made. We’ll find a workaround.” Paul will have to deal with the fact that my assistant can’t be a coordinator for the Bliss concierges like he wanted. “In the meantime, I’ll take care of the communication you’re referring to.”