Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

by Susan Stoker

  “Nei, hun skal hjem nå,” the man spoke with a kind of authority that made Aubrey blush even though she had no idea what he said, and she nudged Finn back so she could slip off the edge of the island to tug her pants the rest of the way up.

  “Please, stay, I’ll make him leave,” he whispered, holding onto her waist when she tried to twist away.

  “Talk to your father, Finn. I need to go anyway.” Aubrey made herself look up at him, at his golden hair, his mysterious green eyes, and she placed a gentle kiss against his lips. “I’ve got your number, right?”

  His lips twitched in an almost smile. “Right.”

  Flashing her mother’s role-winning smile, she turned to face Finn’s father, but Finn snagged her hand and spun her back. Kissing her hard enough to bow her backwards, but his strong arms were there to keep her upright. Her head swam, her breath freezing in her lungs, and then she was upright again, listening to the irritated scoff of the older man behind her.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he spoke softly, brushing a curl behind her ear before his hands trailed lower over her hips, and then he pulled her closer by the waist of her pants and deftly buttoned them. With another delicate tug, he pulled her shirt down over it, and released her.

  “Tomorrow,” she repeated, trying her best to rebuild the smile, but it seemed fragile when she turned away from Finn’s warmth to face the cold form blocking the only exit from the room.

  “La henne dra, pappa.” Finn’s words seemed to cause the man to step aside, but that cool gaze never left her as she walked out of the kitchen, and as soon as she stepped into the entryway, she heard the explosion of a language she didn’t know behind her. Two men arguing, shouting, and Aubrey tried to be silent as she gathered her purse and slipped out the front door.

  The solemn quiet of the hall was a respite, but she felt like she’d left Finn alone to fight some battle she should be there for.

  He said tomorrow. He wanted you to leave.

  Turning back towards the door, she stared at it for a moment, still remembering the intensity of the older man’s voice as he’d spoken to his son.

  And what exactly are you going to do about it?

  It was that thought that made her feet start moving, heels clicking along the tile of the hall, but even as she pressed the button for the elevator, her eyes turned back towards the door to Finn’s apartment. Waiting for him to come outside, to call her back, but there was only silence—and the ding of the elevator arriving was like the final cue. She needed to go, to let him handle this on his own.

  He’d promised to call her tomorrow anyway.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days had passed, and there had been no call. Now, sitting in her office, staring at her computer, Aubrey was distracted for a whole new reason.

  It wasn’t about the itch, the tickling need—no, it was about one guy.

  Just one.

  Finn.

  And he’d promised to call her yesterday, but the call never came, and by ten o’clock she’d fumbled for the text messages on her phone and quickly added him into her contacts so she wouldn’t lose it.

  Then she’d called, and called again, and finally left a message.

  It had been stilted, awkward, because calling men after the fact was just not what she did, but Finn was different. This was different, and she needed to at least know what had happened. It’s not like she needed to see him again—liar—or maybe she wanted to, but it was just to find out if he was okay. If his father had done something when he’d arrived sounding so cold, so angry... that’s all she wanted to know.

  All? Liar, liar, liar.

  Growling in frustration, Aubrey shoved back from her desk, snagging the cat food scented invitation she’d been toying with all morning. The off-white edge of it taunted her, reminding her of just how hard he’d worked to get her to meet him that night. Her thumb plucked at it as she stared down at his perfect cursive, the clean lines of his handwriting, and flinched. This time it was her who had no way to reach him, no idea what to do to get him to reach out again—and she had nothing playfully clever to summon him from his silence.

  The buzz of her phone had her dropping the card to scramble for it, but the unknown number on the screen made her pause. Normally she ignored those calls, avoiding telemarketers and awkward one night stands alike, but as she traced the hand-written words of his card she answered. “Hello?”

  “Uh, hey, is this Aubrey?”

  “Who is this?” she asked, wary of the casual sound in the caller’s voice.

  “It’s Tito, Prince Finn’s friend? I met you at the bar, I … uhh … saw you at the party too?”

  “Oh, hi. Yeah, this is Aubrey.” She tried to stay calm, to breathe deep, but anxiety tickled at the edges of her mind. “Listen, if he asked you to call me and let me down easy, I don’t need that, I never expected—”

  “What? No, no. You gave your number to my girlfriend at the bar, Michelle? She gave it to me so I could call you, because he's not answering anyone.” The man sounded concerned, and it transferred to her instantly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Prince Finn, no one can get a hold of him. I mean, he usually takes a bit to text back, but not this long, and then I got this weird call from this guy named Richard Hall, and he—”

  “Richard?” she clarified. Could that be ‘Dick’?

  “Yeah, and he said that they needed to know where Finn was, but, shit, I mean, I don’t know where he is. It’s not like he’s got a job or something. I mean… if we wanna hang out, we just text him, you know?” Tito laughed half-heartedly. “I was just sort of hoping he was with you? Having some fun?”

  A cold spot appeared in Aubrey’s stomach, her fingertips returning to the edge of the card. Thwock. Thwock. Thwock. “No, sorry, I haven’t seen him since the morning after the party.”

  “Oh, well, it was worth a try. I’m gonna keep calling people. Sorry to bother you.” Tito hung up before she could respond, but she held the phone to her ear for a moment, her eyes glued to the casual shape of his signature.

  Just as she started to lower the phone from her ear, it started buzzing. Another unknown number.

  Fuck, is this going to happen all day?

  Sighing, Aubrey answered again. “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Richard Hall of Benson, Cadw—”

  “Wait, are you Dick?” she asked, and the gruff noise on the other end of the line sounded so irritated that she almost smiled.

  “My name is Richard, and I’m only calling to see if you’ve spoken to Harald Finn Solberg recently?”

  “Why?”

  “I just need an answer, miss.” The abrupt, bored tone of the man was grating, and she turned away from her desk to stare out the window at the traffic snarling below.

  “Listen, Dick, I was with Finn on Saturday, so if you’ve talked to anyone else who’s seen him since Saturday afternoon, then maybe they have more answers, but if you want me to tell you what happened on Saturday, then you need to tell me why you’re asking.” Her demand was met with silence, but she was happy to wait this asshole out.

  Almost a full minute passed before Richard Hall grumbled. “It does appear that you are the individual with the most recent contact with him, of those I have already spoken to, but I am afraid I cannot be too detailed. Finn’s family is looking for him and has been unable to locate him, if you can—”

  “Do you mean his father?”

  “Miss, I just need to know if you’re aware of where he—”

  “What does his father want?”

  Another irritated sigh across the line, and now Aubrey was quite sure that Richard Hall was ‘Dick’, the same number that had popped up on Finn’s phone over and over on Saturday. “Finn is returning home to Norway, his father has determined that his presence in the US is not the best choice for his son’s health and wellness.”

  “Are you kidding me? Finn is an adult, his father can’t just take him home.” Aubrey turned back
to the card on the desk, her stomach twisting as she looked at the carefully drawn letters.

  This was why he was seeing Dr. Connor.

  He never thought anything was wrong.

  It was all his father.

  “Harald Finn Solberg is not a citizen of the United States, so, actually miss, yes, he can be taken home to Norway.” There was a smugness in the bastard’s tone that made Aubrey instantly angry.

  “Listen, Dick, that is not happening.”

  “Well, miss, since you do not know where he is, I don’t imagine you could help in this situation in either regard. Good day.” Dick cut off the call, and Aubrey was tempted to throw it, but just as she gripped her phone, she remembered the intensity with which Finn had been texting the night they’d met up at Rhapsody.

  Had he been texting Dick?

  Was he avoiding his phone now because he didn’t want to listen to that smug asshole?

  Aubrey stood up so fast that her office chair almost toppled over, the memory of their first night in the bar suddenly in full-color in her mind. Finn, in all his golden haired glory, grinning as he laughed over her cat food confession—and then it had been his turn. And he'd told her the one thing no one knew about him.

  His phone had been off at the bar, shut down to avoid the world, and so he could meet her. Talk to her, flirt with her, see if she was like him.

  And they were, they were so similar.

  And he’d known it before they’d even talked.

  “God dammit,” Aubrey snagged the handwritten card, her cell phone, her purse, and headed for the door to her office. As soon as she stepped outside, she almost ran into Trish, and for the first time in months, Aubrey was actually glad to see the other woman. “Crap, Trish, I need a favor.”

  “Huh?”

  “I need you to look at my calendar and reach out to anyone I have meetings with this afternoon and cancel them. I’ve—um—had a family emergency come up.” Aubrey started towards the elevators. “I may be out tomorrow as well. I’ll call you.”

  “Wait, is everything okay?” Trish called as Aubrey punched the elevator button, and a set of doors opened immediately with a dull chime.

  “I hope it’s going to be!” she answered as she ducked inside, already knowing that it was quite possible she was insane, that he’d never gone there in the first place. Or that he’d already been there and left, but she knew for sure that if she didn’t at least try—she’d never forgive herself.

  As the elevator dropped, she rubbed at the center of her chest, wondering if heartache was a real thing and if this was what it felt like.

  ***

  The drive to Malaga Cove was as infuriating as traffic always was, over an hour and then she’d had to park. She’d been spoiled for too long with her company garage, and the ability to valet most places, but even late afternoon, as she carefully walked down the Malaga Cove Trail in heels—she couldn’t deny the view.

  Sunlight glinted off the water, sending up ricochets of light that made the whole place glow. She froze at the bottom, looking north up the beach where she saw two people wandering along the shoreline.

  No golden blond sex gods strolling around waiting for her to arrive.

  Defeat rolled through her as she found a rock and sat down, staring out at the ocean, watching a solitary surfer on a bright red board riding the small swells. It had been a fool’s errand to rush out of work and drive here like Finn was supposed to just be sitting on a beach for the past two days. And what did she expect anyway?

  On the long drive, she’d had plenty of time to think through what Dick the lawyer had said about Finn’s situation, and she had no idea if there was even a way to keep him in the US. She could use her parents’ lawyer if she needed to, have them look into it, but if Finn wouldn’t even answer her calls… what was the point? That odd ache in her chest picked up again, making her rub at her sternum as she curled up on her perch.

  Malaga Cove was peaceful, but even the steady sound of the ocean couldn’t silence the whirring thoughts in her head. The panic stricken look in his beautiful eyes haunted her, mocking her with each crashing wave. She shouldn't have left him. Or at the very least, shouldn't have waited this long to find him.

  But she’d wanted time to think, needed time out of his consuming presence to process everything—and now all she wanted was one more night.

  Even that wouldn’t be enough.

  One more night with Prince Finn would never be enough. He was her new itch, her new addiction, even if he didn't return the sentiment. Even if he was content to leave the country without calling her. Content to bow to his father's wishes and leave her wanting. As if it had never mattered at all... but, of course, she'd been the one to say that from the beginning, hadn't she? She didn't date. Didn't do relationships. Just a never-ending line of faceless strangers and deleted phone numbers.

  Guilt weighed like a heavy stone in her stomach, because if he was really gone, if he was headed back to Norway, then it was over already. No more chances.

  No chance to find out what it could have been like to be with someone who understood her completely. Who felt the same way she felt, someone who would challenge her to a deviously dirty game in the middle of a bacchanal thrown just to prove how much they accepted her. Someone who would kiss her even when she was on top of someone else.

  I don’t want to control you, Aubrey. I just want to see what you’ll do.

  Tears pricked the edges of her eyes, and she angrily wiped them away, furious with herself for avoiding what was now painfully obvious.

  Finn was the only man who wanted her like she was.

  Finn was the only man who could keep up with her, appreciate her, challenge her.

  And Finn was—what the fuck?

  The blond man who had just stepped off the end of the trail and onto the sandy beginnings of the beach caught her attention. He was facing away from her in a gray t-shirt and jeans, hands in his pockets, but every inch of her body tingled. “Finn?” she asked aloud, and then cleared her throat as she stood, walking towards him even as her heels sunk into the sand. “Finn!”

  He turned and her heart somersaulted in her chest, his sunglasses reflecting the light back at her, but his expression turned from confusion, to surprise, to a smile in a flash. “Aubrey?” They collided an instant later, his hands on her shoulders as he laughed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “You said you came here to hide out, and—” She couldn’t even finish speaking because he was kissing her, warm lips with a hint of rum on his tongue, the barest scrape of his unshaven cheeks making her grin when he pulled back. “Everyone is looking for you.”

  “I know.” The humor left his face, and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m in a bad spot, and I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you and I just…” He trailed off, one hand moving up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. “I planned to go to your office today, but I chickened out.”

  “And here you thought I was the chicken…” Aubrey forced a smile as she held onto his waist, but the wan smile she earned in return was hollow. She felt a twist in her stomach and swallowed hard. “Was it because you didn’t want to say goodbye?”

  “Fuck.” He shook his head, cursing. “Who called you?”

  “Dick.” She tried to smile, but his growl was vicious just before he hugged her hard to his chest, his arms like bands of steel across her back.

  “He should never have called you. I don’t even know how he got your number. God dammit, I wanted to be the one to explain this.”

  “Then explain.” Pushing him back, Aubrey yanked his sunglasses free so she could see his eyes. “Explain what the fuck is going on. Explain why you didn’t return my damn calls!” She hit his stomach, and he faked pain as his green eyes found hers.

  “You called me?” The cocky smirk on his lips would have worked wonders on her if she wasn’t so upset.

  “Yes, asshole! I’ve been calling you for two days and you haven’t called me b
ack once. I haven’t even gotten a fucking text! What happened to calling me ‘tomorrow’?”

  His grin wasn’t fading. “So, you’re saying that not only have you added me to your phone, you’ve been calling me too? And more than once?”

  Shoving him, she threw her hands up, tempted to toss his expensive looking sunglasses onto the rocks. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing here.”

  “I think I’m focusing on the right thing, Aubrey.” Pulling his phone from his pocket he made a show of turning it on, the buzzing beginning the second the screen appeared. “I wanted to call you, but after I kicked my father out of my apartment, I turned it off and haven’t turned it back on. I just… needed some time to think.” Ignoring the flurry of alerts, he moved to his call list, and she was astonished to see the number of missed calls he’d received. At the first instance of ‘Aubrey Dean’ in the list he smiled at her like a kid on Christmas morning. “There’s one,” he said, and kept scrolling past so many names that her eyes went wide. “And another, and another. You called me back to back?”

  “Screw you.” She rolled her eyes as he tucked the phone away, but he caught her arm and pulled her tight against him.

  “Did you leave me a voicemail?” The question was a purr against her ear, and she felt the liquid heat between her thighs, which was only amplified by the way he gripped her hip tight.

  “Maybe.”

  He chuckled, leaning lower to nip the skin of her neck. “Was it a hot voicemail? Did you tell me what you were wearing? Try and entice me to call you back?”

  “I’m not that desperate, Finn.” She’d made an effort to make her voice sound strong, but the hint of need made it a clear lie.

  “Says the woman who drove an hour to my secret spot in hopes of finding me.” His other hand found the back of her neck, and he pulled her into a new burning kiss, pressing her so tight against him that there was no denying the growing hard-on behind his zipper.

  Aubrey’s head was swimming, her skin buzzing, but she managed to catch a breath. “I did find you.”

  “So you did… and what do you want to do with me?”