Royal Shark (The Rourkes, Book 6)

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Royal Shark (The Rourkes, Book 6) Page 12

by Kylie Gilmore


  She shoves at my chest. “I have to go.”

  I don’t let her up because I need more. “Come back with me to Villroy tomorrow. I want you to see the casino.” I kiss her and then gaze into her eyes, trying to show her how much this means to me. “I want you to consider working there. I want you to consider us.”

  She blinks rapidly, like she’s trying not to cry. “Adrian,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

  She’s scared of Villroy and maybe she’s scared of what she feels for me. It’s intense, I know, but nothing has ever felt more right.

  I brush my lips over hers. “Just a visit. Just to see.”

  “No.”

  I get off her and pull her up to sit next to me. “Why not?”

  “Why do I need a reason? I don’t want to go.”

  I exhale sharply. “Is it Villroy or me?”

  She crosses her arms, hugging herself. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes. If it’s Villroy, I can work with that. If it’s me, then I’ll leave you alone.”

  Her gaze shifts to the side, one of her tells. “It’s you.”

  It’s not me. She’s just as into this thing between us as I am. I know it in my gut. She’s afraid to see Villroy, just like she was afraid to get back in the water after she sliced her foot open in the ocean. But I stayed with her back then, played poker with her, kissed her, until she relaxed enough to enjoy the water again. I was her hero then, and I’ll be her hero now.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Her head whirls toward me in surprise. “Okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “You’re not going to drag me there by the hair?”

  I lower my voice to the deep growl that makes her wet. “More likely I’d gag and bind you, toss you over my shoulder, and put you on my private jet.” Her cheeks flush pink, her eyes dilating. I can read her, and I love what I see. “But no. I respect your wishes.”

  Her face falls. “Oh. Thank you.”

  She sounds disappointed. Good. I don’t leave until tomorrow, and I want her to go willingly. I just need to get her so comfortable with me that she can face her fear of seeing Villroy again. We’ll make new memories there for however long she’s willing to give me. I don’t expect everything. Just a visit. Just a chance.

  Taking a chance is what all good gamblers do, only this is the riskiest bet I’ve ever taken. I’m going all in on us.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sara

  I’m tempted by Adrian, I really am. And with the jet I could go to Villroy and be back in time for my Tuesday night poker game. Still, my intense fear of getting sucked under by grief has me digging my heels in. I mean, just thinking about my parents makes my chest ache. Half the time I forget to breathe. Actually seeing our cottage or the beach where we spent so much time, I’m afraid I’ll fall apart. The panic attacks will take over. It took so long to put myself back together again. I told him no, and I’m sticking by it.

  We’re in the hotel suite I booked for the game now. I can feel him watching me as I set up the table with the card shuffler and chips.

  “When’s Gustavo get here?” he asks casually. That’s my dealer.

  I glance over at him. “Why?”

  He waggles his brows.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “We are not doing it here right before the game.”

  “There’s a bedroom. Why not?”

  I park a hand on my hip. “That’s like your signature phrase, why not?”

  “It’s how I live my life. Want to try something? Why not? Go for it.” He gestures toward the bedroom.

  I shake my head, smiling. Then it hits me that he’s fearless. He goes for what he wants when he wants it. “You’re lucky to have that attitude. I’m sure being the youngest and a prince gave you a lot of confidence and support. I’ve only had me to lean on.”

  He closes the distance and pulls me into his arms. “Now you have me too.” He presses my head to his chest. “Enjoy the lean.”

  I laugh, but then I wrap my arms around him and sigh. It’s heaven to be held by Adrian. Warm, spicy, sexy heaven.

  “Is it bad that I want you again?” he asks.

  I smile up at him. “It’s very flattering. And mutual, but we can’t just be having sex all the time.”

  “Why—”

  “Not,” I finish for him. “See, I’m catching on.” I pull away. “Because I’ve got things to do.”

  He gives my hair a tug. “Like me.”

  I laugh. “Incorrigible.”

  “Thank you.”

  By the time the guys arrive, I’m in a really good mood. Everything looks great, and I feel great, inside and out. That’s Adrian’s doing, I know.

  I can feel his eyes on me as I greet my players. I catch his eye, and my breath stalls at the smoldering heat in them. I flush hot, losing my train of thought as I put the buy-in cash away with a smile plastered on my face. Who am I kidding with the casual thing? It’s way too intense to be called casual.

  The guys help themselves to the food and drink, taking shot glasses of vodka back with them to the table, where Gustavo is waiting to deal. Adrian takes Sergei’s place at the table like he’s been doing for the past several games. The guys like him. I’ll have to go over my waiting list and find another player for Tuesday’s game once Adrian leaves. My gut churns at the thought. I know it’ll be hard to say goodbye, but I chose to let him close for a couple of weeks, so now I have to deal with the fallout. It’s not goodbye forever, I reassure myself. We’re going to keep in touch.

  The guys start in with their usual banter, and I smile to myself, tucking away the lockbox of money and perching on a nearby chair, pretending to be on my phone while I keep my ears tuned to the play. Whenever they call out to me specifically, I’m always right there with a cheerful response. I really need this game to continue doing well. Covering Sergei’s loss cleaned me out. Now I don’t even have the money for Chloe’s January tuition bill. Hopefully tonight someone will get on a roll and bring the pot high. Lately, the guys have been playing small. I’m not sure what’s up. Is it because Sergei didn’t return? Are they mad at me for kicking their friend out of the game? Maybe he’s claiming he paid his debt and I had sour grapes. I can’t get into all that with them. I’m Sunny Sara, the source of fun, not angst.

  A few minutes later, Ivan asks Yuri about the Queens project, and play stops dead while the men ask question after question. Shit. I think they all went in on it. I can only hope they didn’t spend all their reserves to go all in the way Sergei did.

  It’s only midnight when Ivan folds. “That’s all for me tonight.”

  No-o-o! The game usually goes much longer, and the guys play much looser the more it goes on.

  “It’s early,” I say. “How about we add some Red Bull to that vodka?” Caffeine and vodka, the drink to keep you wide awake drunk. Except these guys never seem that affected by the vodka, just relaxed. Their tolerance is insane.

  “Another time,” Ivan says, rising from the table.

  The other guys mutter similarly and, one by one, call it a night. I panic, about to do something crazy like offer to cover higher bets, when Adrian pipes up.

  “Hey, you all should come to my casino on Villroy Island. I’m leaving tomorrow by private jet. Join me. I’ll set you up with comps—free drinks, meals, and you can stay at the palace. You could jet over to nearby Monte Carlo to check out the casino there too. Lot of celebrities hang in both places. Ever hear of Jackson Walker? He performs at my casino.”

  The guys are psyched, talking over each other in their excitement.

  “Jackson Walker!”

  “He’s a rock god.”

  “Legend.”

  Yuri even plays air guitar and rocks out, thrashing his head.

  Adrian glances over at me. “Sara, you should come too, set everything up there for a cool poker game in a private room.”

  I nod once, my lips pressed tightly together. He forced my hand. I have to go. The guys will expect to see me there, and I need them
to think I’m key to the fun, not some random casino person. I can’t lose this game. Hell. Me on Villroy, the one place I hoped never to see again.

  Adrian turns back to the group. “I’ll have you back Sunday night.”

  “Hell yes!” Ivan exclaims. “I’ve always wanted to try my hand in Monte Carlo, and I’d like to see your place too.”

  “Great,” Adrian says. “You’re going to love it. There’s a spa next door if you want a massage. That’s comped too.” He gives them his cell phone number and the address of the private airport in New Jersey, telling them the flight leaves at ten a.m. tomorrow. “We can get in a few hours of play Friday night in Villroy. You can stay in the palace guest rooms, spend Saturday on Villroy, and then jet over to Monte Carlo to play Saturday night.”

  The guys are thrilled, and I force myself to join in their enthusiasm. They take their leave in good spirits, clapping Adrian on the shoulder and thanking him. They tip me better than the last game.

  As soon as everyone has cleared out, I sit on the sofa, lean forward, and drop my head in my hands. Part of me is thankful that Adrian salvaged a night that was rapidly going downhill after a series of less-than-stellar games. The other part is angry and scared. I have to go. I have to face the past I’ve tried so hard to move away from.

  And what if the guys don’t want to go back to my local game after having a taste of sophisticated European casinos?

  Adrian sits next to me and rubs my back. “Are you angry I invited them?”

  I lift my head. “I’m not sure.”

  “Then you’re not.”

  I straighten. “You forced my hand. And are you really going to have them stay at the palace? I thought that was just for the royal family.”

  “We have guest rooms from when we were taking guests for honeymoons and ladies’ weeks before the spa opened. We only let in people we’re friends with. It’s no problem. You’ll be with me in my suite in the west wing. They’ll be in the east wing.”

  I clench my hands tightly together. “I feel like I have to go. I don’t like feeling forced into it.”

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “Yes I do! If I want to keep my players, I have to go. They have to see me as key to the fun.”

  His hazel eyes are intent on mine. “And what about me? Do you want to keep me too?”

  I look away, unable to hold his gaze. “I told you before I don’t do relationships.”

  “That’s because you were waiting for me.”

  I groan. “Why don’t you just save us some time and have both parts of this conversation? Tell me how I feel since you seem to know so much.”

  “Okay. You’re scared of Villroy and the family memories it holds.”

  I stare at him, surprised he knew that.

  “You want me to be your hero, and I want that too. You care for me just as much as I care for you, and you’re worried that means risking your heart. You’re not sure if we’re a good bet. And I’m going to save you the time figuring that out because the answer is yes. We are a good bet.”

  I’m speechless, my gaze shifting away. Things are good between us now, but there’s still an ocean separating us. I know he’d never abandon his casino, and I can’t abandon my sister or my life here. Chloe doesn’t think she needs me now, but she could at any moment. I want to be close enough to go to her when she calls. I don’t say any of that, though. I can only deal with one emotional thing at a time, and the big thing for me right now is what Villroy represents—the loss of the happiest times my family had. My parents—I can’t catch my breath, my heart racing. Panic attack. It’s been years. No. I will not fall apart. Breathe in, breathe out.

  He brushes my hair back and then cradles my jaw, tipping my face up to his.

  I meet his steady gaze and calm a little. “Ade, if I go, it has to be different. I don’t want to see the cottage I rented with them. I don’t want to see the north beach or anything we did before.”

  “I can’t promise you that. It’s an island. You’re bound to see something that reminds you. But I can promise you that you’ll be having such a good time—getting the inside tour of the casino, playing poker at some of our high-stakes tables with comps, and being with yours truly—that Villroy will become a new set of memories. The kind adult you can handle.” He gives me a devilish grin. “I swear you’ll love it, or your money back.”

  I give him a watery smile. “I’m not paying any money, you goof.”

  He kisses me, just a brush across my lips that leaves me wanting more. “There are other ways you can pay me.”

  I’m still scared of what lies ahead, but he distracts me with his kisses, hauling me into his lap and holding me close. I tell myself as long as I focus on Adrian, it’ll be okay.

  He stands with me in his arms, carrying me to the bedroom.

  I snuggle into his warm chest. “If I have a breakdown, it’s on you.” I say it like I’m joking, even though I’m scared that’s exactly what will happen.

  “You won’t have a breakdown.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You’re strong and capable. You can do this.”

  He sets me gently on the bed and covers me with his body. I hold on tight.

  He kisses me and cradles my jaw with one hand, gazing into my eyes. “Thank you, Sara, for taking a chance on me.”

  My voice is shaky. “You’re a good bet.” I want it to be true.

  He smiles, his eyes lighting up. “Now you’re getting it.”

  He kisses me again, and I let myself go, losing myself in sensation, letting my dark thoughts fade. They’ll be back soon enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Sara

  Adrian and I are spending the night in the hotel suite since it’s already paid for. He’s asleep. It’s 1 a.m. and I slip out of bed to clean up the game in the living room area. I send Chloe a quick text to let her know I’ll be away for a few days in Villroy with Adrian and the guys. I don’t expect her to be up, but she responds right away.

  Chloe: What time are you leaving tomorrow?

  Me: What’re you doing up so late?

  Chloe: Reading.

  Me: If you need me, I can cancel.

  Chloe: I want to go with you. I’m hoping Villroy will bring back memories of Mom and Dad. I only have a few indistinct memories—Dad going off to work with his laptop bag, and Mom yelling at me to stop jumping on the sofa. I only remember that because I hit my head on the coffee table and we went to the ER. Afterward, she got me ice cream.

  Ironic how I fear triggering memories of our parents, and she yearns for them. I hadn’t realized she needed that.

  Chloe: Besides, it might be hard for you to be there. I want this to be something we do together.

  I can’t deny it would be easier to have her with me, and I’ve so missed spending time with her. She has a passport from when she travelled to Nicaragua this past summer on a service trip. I got mine at the same time so I could fly there on a moment’s notice if she needed me.

  Me: What about your classes?

  Chloe: I’ll get the notes to Friday’s lectures. I’m on track with studying. Don’t worry.

  I smile to myself. I’m not worried about that ever.

  Me: We leave at ten a.m. I’ll arrange a car to drive you to the airport.

  Chloe: I’m excited.

  I wish I were. I’m dreading it more than anything. I text rapidly. Good. I’m psyched to be with you. Our mini vacation.

  I’m going to pack. Goodnight.

  Good night. Love you.

  Love you too.

  I take a deep breath. I can do this. I’ll have Chloe by my side. Adrian, too, though I know he’ll be busy catching up with work stuff. Plus, I’ll probably be so busy with the guys I won’t have time to focus on anything else. I don’t have to see the two-bedroom cottage where my family crowded close every boisterous joyful summer. It’s probably occupied by new summer renters. There were only ever a few cottages available to rent on the island, and the onl
y reason we always got that one was because the elderly couple who owned it knew my father’s family in France. The owners went to England every summer to visit their daughter and her family. I’ll tell Chloe about the cottage in case she wants the memory jog, but I won’t be going there.

  I clean up, memories flooding my brain—

  The scent of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Mom always baked cookies at the cottage. It was a distinctly summer activity. She was too tired after work during the school year.

  My dad sitting on the small back patio with his coffee, admiring the view of the island and the sea. The cottage was near the top of the hill, the palace at the very top, and we had a spectacular view.

  My father speaking French to the locals. He was from France originally and had visited Villroy every summer as a boy. He never spoke French at home. Villroy brought out that side of him.

  Long days of sun, sand, and salt water. My parents holding hands, walking everywhere. And then that summer when they stopped holding hands, and I feared they’d divorce.

  I never thought they’d die. Never once crossed my mind. They were going to live forever.

  A sob escapes, and I cover my mouth with my hand. I don’t want Adrian to hear, so I go into the bathroom, lock the door, run the shower, and get in, letting it all out with the noise of the water and the exhaust fan covering for me. It’s been so long since I cried over them. I knew this would be torture. Better than a panic attack, still, it hurts.

  I dry off, exhausted, get dressed again, open the bathroom door, and let out a yelp.

  Adrian is standing there, his gaze sympathetic.

  He wraps me in his arms without a word, hugging me close. Then he guides me to bed and tucks me against his side, his arm around me. I’m getting too used to being held by him, but I don’t have the strength to put up my usual defenses, keeping my distance. Instead I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  The guys are pumped the next morning. They love the royal jet, and the moment we’re on board, sitting on the tarmac, they start betting on just about everything—what time we’ll arrive, the number of poker tables at the casino, and who will have the best full beard by the end of the weekend. I made arrangements with the flight crew for food, so we’ve got caviar on board along with champagne, vodka, and fresh fruit. Plus whatever they normally have for the meal service. I planned to put my special requests on my credit card, but Adrian insisted it was his treat.

 

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