by Tia Louise
Picking up my phone, I shoot Reggie a text. Casino date tonight is a go. Can I know how to gamble?
Carrying my phone with me, I decide to check on my little sister. I have to pause in shock at the enormous bouquet of red roses now filling the entryway. The card is gone, so I have no idea what he wrote to her.
“Damn,” I hiss under my breath, shaking my head as I head to her door. I shouldn’t be miffed. So he bought her a florist’s worth of flowers. He did offer to call me a whole doctor for an ankle sprain.
I’m just about to knock when Reggie’s reply vibrates my phone. Your call, although probably not wise to be a card shark. Don’t be shy around CPR. Make your move. I’m counting on you.
“My move,” I mutter. “My move is falling for the wrong prince.”
Ava doesn’t answer when I knock, so I turn the doorknob slowly and peek in. She’s dressed in one of the designer outfits Reggie bought us—tight white capris that show off her long, slim legs, with a flared black sleeveless jacket-top. She’s brushing her hair a little too hard. Her pilfered aquarium bracelet shakes and sparkles on her wrist.
“Going out?” I walk over to her and put my hand on the brush.
Her rapid movements still, and our eyes meet in the mirror. “I need something to wear tonight. The casino is very formal.”
“I’m sure Reggie’s got it covered.”
“Then I want to shop.” She begins brushing again, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder.
“Everything okay?” I’ve never seen her this way. “You know, it’s possible I haven’t blown this job. Reggie thinks I still have a chance.” As much as I hate it.
“You kissed Rowan, and you slept with Cal?” Her question is clipped, and embarrassment tightens my stomach. Of course, she’s mad.
“You’re right,” I say, looking down. “I have to get my head in the game. I have to stop screwing around and focus on the prize.”
She puts the brush down and faces me. She’s a little softer, but I can tell she’s still not happy. “I think you’re doing the best you can. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” She picks up her clutch. “I’ll be back after lunch.”
“Really? We’re not going to do anything together?”
“We’ll catch up tomorrow. Or tonight at the casino. Mind if I take the card?”
“Of course not. The money is for both of us.”
She’s gone before I can say another word, and I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is still a rat’s nest from hiding under the covers, so I take the brush and pull it through until it’s smooth. Then I walk slowly to the tower of roses, pulling one from the throng and pressing it to my nose. Sweet perfume.
I’m back on with Rowan, but that only solves one problem. How do I pretend to care about the crown prince, when all my thoughts keep flying to his brother? How can I pretend like nothing happened last night?
I drop onto the soft green sofa and look out at the turquoise blue waters, fighting the memories of last night trying to filter into my brain. I’ve never failed at a job before, and I’m not going to start now. I won’t choke in the biggest game of my career. I’ll regroup and see this one through to the end.
Preference
Rowan
Cal is unusually quiet on the limo ride into town. We’re both wearing requisite black tuxedos, and while his hair is combed back and smooth, mine is all around my ears.
“I should have had a hair cut today,” I grumble, tilting the scotch back and forth in my crystal tumbler.
He continues looking out the window, not answering. His elbow is bent, and he’s pinching his top lip. It’s one of his tells.
“You’re going to have to loosen up if you expect to win tonight. I can tell you’ve been dealt a tough hand.”
That brings him around. “What?”
“Why are you so distracted?”
His brow quirks, and he shifts in the seat, sliding his palms down his thighs. “Rode over to Longines this morning. That gelding has to be put down.”
“Pierre?”
“He never fully recovered from his injury last fall. The vet says it’s getting worse. He’s in pain.”
Leaning forward, I touch his knee. “Sorry, brother.”
Cal shrugs. “He’s twenty-five. It’s time.”
“Still, he was your first horse.”
He leans back and polishes off his scotch. “I’ll try not to let it ruin the evening.”
We’re at the hotel, and I give him a tight smile before sliding forward. Hajib holds the door, and the moment I look out, I call back to Cal.
“We have to hustle.” A cadre of photographers is already swarming in our direction.
With a push off the plush leather, I’m across the space between the car and the front doors before they’re able to catch me. Cal is right on my heels. The doormen keep them outside while I step to the house phone and call our dates.
“They’re on the way down,” I say. Standing beside my brother, I look through the glass at the waiting paparazzi. I can almost see their fangs gleaming. “We should have planned an escape route. I didn’t expect them to be so interested.”
“The word’s out. You’re looking for a bride, and you’ve been spotted with the same woman three times now.”
“Zee?” I think about last night, me carrying her up from the shore in my arms, rotating her bare foot. “We need to flush out the rat at Occitan.”
“I couldn’t agree… more.” His unexpected stutter causes me to look up. His expression is stunned, and I turn to see the ladies exiting the lift.
My own stomach tightens at the sight. Ava is wearing a two-piece long black dress with a V-neck, midriff top. I can’t decide whether to focus on the soft swell of her breasts or her lined torso. Both are causing a sudden rush of blood from my head to my cock.
I have to tear my eyes away from her sexy body to greet Zelda, who’s leading the two. She’s equally stunning in a white dress that stops mid-thigh. Her toned legs are lined, and the bronze heels she wears are amazing. Her dress is cut out at the back, and almost appears two-piece as well, except for the small bit of fabric covering her stomach.
“Wow,” I meet Zelda in the middle and take her hand. “You both look very beautiful.”
She’s doing that thing again, where her eyes are fixed solely on me as if she’s trying not to see anyone or anything else. I don’t know what it means other than I can’t look at Ava.
“Thank you,” she takes my hand. “Always the perfect date.”
Ava makes a soft noise, and I take advantage of it to look in her direction. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
She blinks up at me, and once again, I’m hit with a jolt of emerald green. Her soft hair is pulled away from her face in a smooth sweep down her back, and her lips are a pale shade of pink. I must have her tonight. The thought stampedes in my brain.
“I can’t wait to see the casino,” Zelda says, taking my arm and breaking the moment. “I looked it up online, and it’s gorgeous! So historic.”
“It was built more than a century ago.” We walk slowly to the door, and I do my best to fight my irritation when Cal takes Ava’s arm. “It was one of our great-great grandmothers’ ideas.”
“The family was in financial ruin, and she saved us all by starting this massive enterprise,” Cal says.
Zelda tenses at his voice, and I glance down to catch a hint of pink in her cheeks. “It’s enormous.”
“That’s what she said,” my brother mutters behind us, and Ava laughs.
Zee doesn’t respond, but her cheeks redden more. “You said you like to play Baccarat? Is that like poker?”
“More like blackjack.” I pause at the hotel entrance. “I’m afraid we’ve attracted the paparazzi. We’ll have to dash to the car, but I’ll shield you from them.”
“It’s like running the gauntlet.” Zee mutters looking out at them.
As soon as we leave the building, the shouting begins. They call my name, they call C
al’s. They ask who the women are. One bastard makes a shitty crack about me getting a hummer.
Hajib is efficient as always getting the doors open and closed and leaving the premises without killing anyone. We’re all quiet inside, recovering. I’m infuriated by the blowjob remark in front of our guests, particularly Ava.
“Is that something you deal with a lot?” Zelda’s eyes meet mine, and a touch of compassion is in them. “It must be miserable.”
“It goes with the territory.”
“Escorting beautiful women makes it worse,” Cal adds quietly.
“So it’s Ava’s fault?” Zee laughs.
For a moment I study her. She’s serious, and I confess, her humility softens me. “Don’t be so quick to let yourself off the hook.”
She shakes her head, and we’ve arrived at the casino. We’re as close to the entrance as possible, as several of the photographers have followed us. We’ll be safe enough once we’re inside.
Another brisk run, and we’re pushing through the entrance of the palatial casino, the screaming paparazzi blocked outside. Again, we pause to catch our breath and straighten our clothes.
Zelda runs her hands over her pale blonde hair and lifts her chin to look all around the grand salon. “It’s enormous!” She walks across the Persian carpets to gaze at a larger than life oil painting in an ornate golden frame.
The three of us follow a few steps behind her, and while I’ve been in the building more times than I can remember, it’s like seeing the thick, red-velvet drapes and sparkling gold leaf Corinthian accents anew.
“I love this one,” Ava says.
She’s looking up at a huge portrait of a woman in a field of heather that’s being swept forward by the wind.
“Most of these have been here for centuries,” I say. “I’m not sure who painted that one.”
She looks up at me. “It’s very fine. All of it is so… noble.”
“Have you been to many casinos?” I know I should be with Zee, but I notice Cal is with her. They appear to be having a lively conversation, and I’ll steal my moments with this beautiful lady when I can.
“I-I’ve been inside a few,” she says hesitantly, “but only out of curiosity. I’m not allowed to gamble.”
“Not allowed?” I smile, and she blinks away from my eyes.
“I don’t have a poker face.”
“Ah,” I reach for her hand, pulling it into the crook of my arm. “That is a liability.”
“So I’ve been told.”
We start to walk, and in this position, her luscious body is very close to mine. I feel her heat, and I have to fight my primitive desire to take her. Everything in me aches for her.
“Tell me about growing up in Florida,” I say in an effort to redirect. “Were you close to the coast?”
“Yes! We practically lived in the ocean, sometimes we even slept on the beach at night.” Her enthusiasm is adorable.
“We?” My brow lines, and she looks startled.
“Oh…” She looks away, over her shoulder, before turning back. “My older sister… and me.”
“You have a sister? What is her name?” She laughs in a way that sounds a little strangled. I stop and look at her. “Are you feeling ill?”
“Would it be possible to get a drink?” Her hand tightens on my arm, and I cover it with my hand.
“What would you like? Champagne? A cocktail?”
“Whiskey sour?”
“Whiskey?” I grin, and she looks embarrassed. “No, I’m impressed by the contradiction.”
“What do you mean?” She flashes me a look, and I notice something I missed before. Ava Wilder is secretly feisty. I’m intrigued.
Stepping to her, I touch her chin with my thumb. “I’d like to know this side of you better.”
Her full lips part, and my dick stirs. I have to grab the reins on my lust. We’re in a public place for god’s sake.
“Come,” I take her hand and escort her to the elaborate bar. Like everything else, it’s adorned in oil paintings, sculptures, and heavy golden accents.
The bartender is with me at once, and I place our orders. Ava stands beside me looking at the frescos on the ceiling. I take the opportunity to look at her beautiful throat and shoulders.
“Your grace.” The bartender places a tall, slender whiskey sour, accented with a cherry and an orange wedge in front of me.
She nods to my plain tumbler of scotch. “It’s so fancy compared to yours.”
I lift it and give her a toast. “To garnish.”
“You don’t have to pay?” she whispers. Her lips lightly touch my ear, and fuck me.
“We have a tab,” I say as I lead her through the salons, through the French doors, and out to the patio. She lifts the cherry out of her glass and slips it between her full lips. Everything this woman does is pure sex.
“If you’re hungry, there are several restaurants…”
“I’m not.” She smiles, turning to scan the garden. “I hope we can see the fountain. Do you think the photographers will be there screaming at us again?”
“I’ll be sure you see the fountain in peace.”
She glances over my shoulder at my omnipresent bodyguards. “I noticed we have company. Can’t they do anything about the paparazzi?”
“Engaging with them only makes it worse, I’m afraid. We do our best to ignore them.”
“In America they hide behind ‘freedom of the press’ laws.” Her voice is angry. “Freedom of the press means we’re prisoners of print.”
“You’re very smart.” She leans against the stone archway of the balcony, and I slide the backs of my fingers down the soft skin of her arm. A gratifying sprinkle of tiny bumps appears in its wake.
“So I’ve been told.”
“And you have no poker face.” I’m reading her hand. Her soft breasts are flushed, and her breathing fast. Leaning closer, I touch her chin. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were at the aquarium.”
“I know.” Her eyes are focused on my shirtfront.
“Look at me,” I order.
She obeys, and when I see the heat in her eyes, it’s all the encouragement I need. I cover her mouth with mine, sliding my hands over her exposed back. With a soft moan, her gorgeous body melts into mine. Her shoulders rise, and the tips of her fingers touch my face. I push her lips apart, tasting her sweet mouth. She’s mint laced with cherries, and every touch, every stroke of our tongues curling together fuels the fire in me.
“I want to make love to you.” My voice is rough and hungry.
“Rowan,” she gasps. “We need to stop. We should talk more.”
I’m chasing her mouth, capturing her full lips, threading my fingers in her silky hair. I’m a junkie, and I’m finally getting the hit I’ve been craving for days. “We can talk later,” I say, claiming her mouth again.
She moans a response, and I know she can feel my arousal. I don’t care. I feel hers in every kiss, every touch. I would take her right here against this stone archway if it weren’t for those fucking bodyguards.
“Let’s go across the street.” I glance up at the guards on duty, pretending not to watch.
“What’s across the street?” she pants, one hand on my neck, the other holding my arm tightly, as if for balance.
My palm is flat against her lower back, holding her securely to me. “The Paris Hotel.”
“Mm,” she struggles, and I allow her to move.
She steps to the side, smoothing her hands over her dress, touching her lips lightly. I watch in frustration. I don’t want her pulling away from me.
“I only meant it would give us more privacy,” I say. “The guards don’t have to be with us there.”
Her eyes widen and she looks around. At once her cheeks flame red, and she covers them with her hands. “Oh my god, I forgot about the guards.”
Stepping forward, I take her in my arms. “Please don’t pull away. They’re an unfortunate byproduct of who I am, but I want to know you better.”<
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“What about Cal… and Zee? We should find them. We can’t just leave without a word.”
I hate that she has a point. “Cal will look out for your friend. She seems to enjoy his company better anyway.”
Emerald eyes flash to mine, so beautiful. “She thought she was coming here with you tonight. I’m ruining your plans.”
“The only plan I had for tonight was you.”
Pushing away, she shakes her dark head as she walks across the patio to the heavy stone rail. Her black skirt swirls around her legs, and the lines in her torso deepen as she walks. She’s so fucking gorgeous.
“I thought Cal was the playboy prince.” It’s a sharp accusation, and I’m taken aback.
“What does that mean?”
“It seems you get hummers from anonymous women, last night you kissed my sister, and tonight you want me to go to bed with you?”
I’m at a loss. My brain swiftly catalogs her complaints, searching for a rebuttal. “Your sister?”
“I… I mean… Yes!” She’s momentarily flustered. “Zee is like a sister to me. Sometimes we even call each other sister. Is that all you got from what I said?”
“No, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t following you for a moment.” I look away. The top of the enormous fountain is just visible over the hedges. “I don’t know what to say. Yes, I kissed Zelda last night. She had hurt her ankle, and I carried her to the house. It was a thank you kiss, nothing more.”
Her back is to me, and I want to break down these barriers. I want to have her. Perhaps that does make me a playboy prince, but I don’t think in those terms.
I touch her soft shoulder. “The first night I saw you, you quoted Robert Frost. Passionate preference; love at first sight. Why did you say those lines?”
Shanking her head, she does a little shrug. “It came into my mind. I don’t know why.” She walks away, crossing the space to the stone arch.
I’m right behind her, making her face me. “I’m not playing games, Ava. I want to know your mind. We can go back inside and find your friend, but after this night, I want to know you in every way. I don’t want anyone else.”