Royal Rogue: A Sexy Royal Romance (Flings With Kings Book 3)

by Jessica Peterson

  Charlie laughed again. “Something like that. What started out as an impromptu tutoring session kind of morphed into this lunchtime class thing. The kids loved it, and so did Ria and Natalie. The lessons check a bunch of boxes. Healthy eating. Curiosity. Confidence. Self-sufficiency. A few of the students really had a knack for it. We’re researching more advanced culinary classes for them.”

  Oh, shit, now my throat was really closing in. Tears blurred my eyes. Charlie was helping kids learn real skills. He was helping them discover their passion.

  He was discovering his own passion.

  Charlie looked at me. “I want you to know that I’m done doing illegal shit. I’ve been given a fresh start, and I don’t intend to waste it.”

  A tear slipped from my eye. I wiped it away.

  “Fresh start?”

  “Jack helped me out with that, too. I’m still Charlie Zeller. But I got a new backstory, thanks to some magic your grandmother worked on my behalf. You’ll always know the truth about me, Jane. But everyone else—they’ll just know me as some guy from South Carolina who brought his sandwiches across the pond.”

  Jack. Of course Jack was behind all this wonderfulness. I wanted to strangle him for meddling.

  Strangle him, then hug the shit out of him.

  “I need you to know something,” Charlie continued. “I never meant to get in on the whole con thing. I stole from people because I had to. My mom—she had this dream of opening up a deli. She did it, but then she died a little while after. So Owen and I took the reins, but we were too young and too stupid to know how to make it work. Well, mostly Owen was. But that was neither here nor there, because it was our business. We loved it. We wanted to keep mom’s memory alive. But because we almost ran the damn place into the ground, we had to borrow money from a guy we shouldn’t have borrowed from. Over the years, we’ve had to pay back that money by running his cons.”

  “A guy?” I said. “What guy? Do you still owe him money? I assume you can’t just...I don’t know, run away from a person like that.”

  “I can’t,” Charlie replied. “We’re still working on paying him back. But this time we’re using money we earn, not money we steal. And I have a plan. One I’d actually like to talk to you about later. I’m not asking you for money or anything. Just a favor.”

  I took a step toward him. Desperate to be close to him. To feel the air vibrate with his presence. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His eyes got this faraway look in them. “Because it was a moot point. I didn’t think any of this—what’s happened over the past few weeks—was remotely possible. Telling you the truth seemed like the ultimate act of cruelty. Because no matter what my story was, I couldn’t see a way for us to be together.”

  Another step toward him. This time, he stepped toward me, too.

  “But now you do.”

  “Now I do,” he repeated. “Which begs the question—do you?”

  A beat of heated silence passed between us. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to do except stare at him, tears pouring out of my eyes.

  “My mom wanted me to make the world a better place,” Charlie said. His voice was low. Gravelly. “Given my circumstances, I didn’t think that was possible. But then I met you, and I see all the good you’re doing. You’ve pushed me to do better, Jane. You’ve pushed me to see that I can help, even in small ways.”

  I looked at him. Hard.

  “I know you were covering up for Owen,” I said after a beat. “I saw the tape.”

  He swallowed. “Jane. I couldn’t let my brother go to jail.”

  I looked away. I felt light headed.

  “You’d really take the fall for him?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Charlie replied. “Same as you’d do for any of your brothers.”

  I looked at him.

  “I want to believe that you’re telling the truth,” I said.

  He held up his hands. “I want that, too, Jane. But if you don’t, I totally get it.”

  My heart was pounding inside my head. My skin. My chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “So fucking sorry for putting you through all this. I made a lot of mistakes. But you’ve made me want to be better. I’ll never stop trying to deserve you, Jane. You’ve set the bar really fucking high because you’re you. You’re honest, and genuine, and so damn good at—well, at everything. I want to be good like that, too. I want to live an honest and genuine life. Thank you for reminding me how.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  Charlie wasn’t fucking around.

  I knew it in the marrow of my bones. His story—it explained the pain I’d seen in his eyes when we were with my family. Explained the sadness I’d recognized in him when he’d looked at me. Now I understood his internal war. He’d been trying to do right by his brother, but he’d also wanted to do right by me. Two competing objectives.

  He’d somehow managed to choose us both in the end. He’d saved Owen. Knowing his brother was safe, now Charlie was going about the business of changing for me.

  He was still Charlie. Still had his heart of gold. But now he was using that heart for good.

  He was trying. And that’s all we could really do, wasn’t it? Try to do right by ourselves and each other?

  I wanted to try again with Charlie. Because he’d made me brave, and now he was being brave, too. Taking the hard road for me. Doing what he had to for me.

  He was blinking hard now. “I can give you nothing—”

  “Charlie,” I said, stepping into him. Searching his eyes. “You’ve given me everything.”

  His lips parted on an inhale. His brow was furrowed.

  “You really mean that?”

  I put a hand on his face. “Of course I mean that. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “I love you, Jane,” he said, voice strained. “I meant what I said in the letter. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  A beat of silence. Then another. Another. We looked at each other.

  Then, unable to keep still any longer, I laughed.

  “My God, Charlie, are you gonna kiss me yet or what?”

  His expression morphed into a grin, even as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

  “Yes, princess,” he said.

  Then he slid his hands onto my face and ducked his head and pressed his lips to mine.

  The sweetness of his kiss was acute. My eyes fluttered shut as a rush of happiness washed through me. Happiness and relief and arousal. It warmed my skin and made my blood dance inside my veins.

  He was here.

  He was mine.

  I’d waited a bloody lifetime for this moment. For this person.

  I fell into his kiss, into him, surrendering to the crush of all the things I felt. He kissed me hard, like he’d always done, and he kissed me deeply, pouring his soul into this place where our mouths met.

  Out of breath, he pulled back. He curled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck.

  “God I’ve missed you,” he breathed, rocking me gently. Then he straightened. “Should we celebrate with a drink?”

  My gaze flicked to his lips. “Bet your ass we should.”

  That handsome mouth of his quirked into a grin. He reached around and pulled that beat up metal flask out of his back pocket.

  “Stop it.” I stared at him. “Jameson?”

  “Of course,” he said, unscrewing the cap. He held it out to me. “Ladies first.”

  I took it. The metal felt warm in my hand. Familiar. “As you wish.”

  “Hey.” His brow furrowed as he watched me take a pull. “That’s my line.”

  The whiskey hit my tongue. It was delicious. Spicy, sweet. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and handed him the flask.

  “What if we try something new?” I said. “A role reversal, if you will. I’ll be the pirate, and you be the princess.”

  Charlie’s grin moved into a smile. T
his secret, naughty flash of a smile that I felt between my legs. He held the flask to his lips.

  “Only if you wear a mask,” he said, taking a sip. Then he passed it back to me.

  “You’ve got it, Buttercup.”

  I took another sip of whiskey. Then I kissed him, letting the sweetness mingle between our lips. He laughed. I breathed him in.

  Princess. Pirate. Whatever he wanted to be, he could be it with me.

  There wasn’t a more perfect happily ever after than that.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Charlie

  I walked into Jimmy’s office with my head held high. I had no idea if this was going to work. But putting on a show of confidence couldn’t hurt, right?

  I’d talked the whole thing over with Jane and her brothers. Not only were they on board with the idea. They insisted I make it happen, because they were awesome like that. Apparently the Queen had caught wind of my plan, too. While we’d never officially gotten approval from her, she hadn’t disapproved, either. Which Jane said was as good as we could hope for.

  I’d take it. Because even though Jimmy wasn’t exactly a stand-up guy, he was still a part of the Thorne family. If I had the chance to help build a bridge—to show him that not every member of the royal family was a prick like his father had been—I had to make it happen.

  And yeah, it’d be a nice bonus if he cleared the debt I owed him as a nice little thank you.

  Was it a long shot? Absolutely. But I was a former con who’d ended up with a princess. Sometimes wild hope paid off.

  Jimmy was sitting at his desk. He looked up when I entered his office.

  “Charlie,” he said, setting down his pen. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Been busy.”

  “So I hear,” he said. “I’ve missed having you around. I’m still waiting on that big idea you promised me.”

  My heart thumped inside my chest.

  “What if I had something better to offer?” I said.

  Jimmy puckered his brow, settling his elbows on his desk. “What could possibly be better than a multi-million pound job?”

  I licked my lips. They’d suddenly gone dry.

  “Your family,” I said. “Her Majesty Princess Jane and her brothers would very much like to speak with you.”

  Later That Week

  I knocked on the door. One short, quick rap. Then I stepped back to stand beside Owen.

  He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, passing the brown paper bag he held from one arm to the other.

  “This is really what they wanted us to bring?” he asked, glancing up at the four story apartment. “Some sandwiches and The Princess Bride edition of Monopoly?”

  I grinned, looking down at the box I had tucked underneath my arm. The board game’s title, printed in shimmering gold letters, glinted in the early afternoon sunshine. I’d had it custom made by an artist on Etsy, and I couldn’t wait to show Jane. I wanted her to see it before her brothers started hurling the mini Miracle Max and Inigo Montoya player pieces at each other.

  “Yup.” I gave Owen a gentle nudge with my elbow. “Hey. They’re going to love you. Trust me when I say they are the kindest, most easy-going, foul mouthed family in England.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, still looking up at the palace. “You sure about that? Because these people caught me on camera trying to steal from them.”

  “I explained everything,” I said. “They’ll be cool, I promise. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have given us that loan for our classes.”

  Though truth be told, I felt slightly less confident than I sounded. Yes, The Foundation had given Owen and I even more seed money to get our classes off the ground. And yes, Jane had talked to her brothers about Owen. How, like me, he’d conned because he had to. Because he’d just wanted to make his tuna melts in peace.

  But the Thorne brothers were a volatile bunch, as I’d learned over the course of several Sunday afternoons. You never knew what you were going to get.

  I also really, really wanted Owen to get along with everyone. I wanted him to enjoy Jane’s family as much as I did. Because one day they might be our family, too. It was important to me that Owen feel included. Feel welcomed. We had no one else in the world. It’d be nice to know Owen had some friends he could rely on.

  And then there was the whole Jimmy situation. I wondered if he’d even show up. He’d spent his whole life hating these people. But that look in his eyes when I’d said the Thorne siblings wanted to meet with him had been almost hopeful. Soft.

  I’d never seen Jimmy go soft before.

  Owen drew a breath at the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door, followed by muffled voices.

  “That them?”

  “Of course it’s bloody them, who else would it be? Thick as a board, you are.”

  “Me? Please! You’re the one with a brain the size of a fucking pea.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, lads, watch your language around the baby, would you?”

  “Listen to you guys!” A woman’s voice this time. “Out of the way, all of you. You’re not fit for decent company.”

  The deadbolt slid back and the door opened. Aly, Rob’s wife, smiled at us. Her eyes lit up when they fell on the paper bag.

  “I am so glad you’re here,” she said, giving her growing belly a rub. “I’ve been craving a turkey bacon club like nobody’s business, and I can’t seem to find a decent one anywhere in this city.”

  I stepped forward to kiss her cheeks.

  “Aly, this is my brother Owen,” I said, motioning to my brother. “Owen, this is Aly.”

  She held out her hand, giving him a warm smile.

  “So nice to meet you. Charlie’s told us all about you.”

  Owen cut me a glance. “Hopefully only good things?”

  “Oh yeah,” Aly said. “Mostly how good your world famous sandwiches are. I’m excited for you guys and your classes! How cool that you’re bringing the art and science of sandwich making to the U.K. Also cool that you’re bringing that turkey bacon club to me.”

  My brother laughed, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. He held out the bag. “I made a few extra with mayo on the side. They should keep in the fridge for the next few days.”

  “You are so speaking my language. Thank you,” Aly said, taking the bag. “Come in, come in, please! Oh, and don’t mind the dog. We’ve gotten him fixed, but he—well, just kick him off if it gets to be too much.”

  I followed Owen and Aly inside. Immediately we were inundated by people and hugs and dogs—Kit and Em had apparently brought their new puppy over to play.

  Rob pulled Owen into an embrace. When he pulled away, he patted his pockets.

  “Wallet’s still there,” he said. “Guess we can trust you, yeah?”

  Rob burst out laughing. So did Kit and Jack. I couldn’t tell if they were really joking or…not.

  Jane merely rolled her eyes, plastering her body against mine.

  “Ignore them,” she said to Owen, who had suddenly gone pale, despite the smile plastered on his face. She lowered her voice. “They’ll warm up to you. Just give them a moment. And a few glasses of wine.”

  I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I missed you. How was the trip?”

  Jane had flown up to Northumberland yesterday to visit a female-led theatre production company that had received a grant from The Foundation. She’d gotten back late, so we hadn’t been able to catch up.

  “It went really well,” she said, giving my waist a squeeze. “Next time you’ll have to come with me. I think you’d really love meeting the students.”

  I grinned. “Are you asking me to be your bag man?”

  “I’ve already got one of those,” she said, grinning back. “What about being my right hand man?”

  The joke was a terrible one. But I couldn’t resist.

  “I’m a big fan of your right hand.”

  Beside me, Owen groaned. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Get a
goddamned room.”

  “Thank you!” Rob said, stepping forward. “They’re the worst, aren’t they? Always sucking each other’s faces in front of us.”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “We’re the worst? I’ve walked in on you—”

  “Shh!” Rob put his hands on either side of Aly’s belly. “The baby doesn’t need to know how it was made, all right?”

  Aly smiled, offering us a little shrug. “I’ve been dreaming about this sandwich. Let’s eat.”

  Like usual, the china and crystal were set out on the dining room table. And like usual, those were the only fancy things about the lunch we had. Owen passed out his sandwiches—each one customized to what I’d told him everyone liked—and his color slowly came back as silence descended, people too busy devouring their meal to do much besides groan in appreciation.

  “My. God,” Aly said between bites. “This is—”

  “Orgasmic?” Jack said around a mouthful of a ham and Havarti sandwich. “I second that opinion.”

  Baby Josie, who was munching on a slice of cheese Emily had taken off her Italian sub, slapped the table in apparent solidarity.

  Kit elbowed Owen. “You’re welcome to come over anytime. As long as you bring these,” he teased.

  “Welp,” Rob said, wiping his hands over his empty plate. “Complete rubbish, that. Hated it.”

  Owen looked so happy I thought he might burst.

  The more my brother relaxed, the more I did too. It was really fucking weird, the fact that Owen and I were sitting down to lunch with the family we’d tried to rob.

  But then being around the Thornes made me think that all families were weird. Period. No matter who your family was or where you were from. Was our story weirder than most? Probably. But didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy the wonderful parts about each other, too.

  I was still anxious, though, when Aly brought out The Princess Bride Monopoly box. Jane literally gasped when she saw it.

  “You didn’t!” she said, grinning ear to ear.

  I shrugged. “I had to.”

  “So who are you going to be?” she said, opening the box to take out the player pieces. “Dread Pirate Roberts? Wesley? Buttercup?”