Billionaire's Playmate

by Chance Carter

  I tore off another strip of meat and passed it down to Hank. “Fathers are like that.”

  “What else do you butt heads with yours about?” she asked.

  “All sorts of things.”

  I could feel Svetlana’s frustration rippling through the air, and she turned to talk to one of her entourage instead. It was for the best.

  As the servers came out to clear our plates, Edward rose from the table and walked up behind me. His wife, Clarissa, watched us curiously, though I had my suspicions why he was breaking out.

  “Could I talk to you for a moment in private?” Edward inquired.

  I suppressed a sigh and rose.

  “Excuse us,” Edward said to the party. “We’ll be back in a moment.”

  A couple of staff who were relaxing in the hallway scattered when they saw us. With nobody around to listen, Edward let me have it.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. “You’ve barely said a word all evening. Don’t you think thirty-one is a little too old to be playing the moody teenager?”

  I tensed my jaw. “My mind is elsewhere.”

  “Not good enough.” He shook his head. “You lead an extraordinarily comfortable life, Alexander. We all do. The least you could do is help to entertain your family’s guest rather than moping around like a discarded wet sock because you need to be fiercely independent at all times.”

  “I doubt you’d be haranguing me so sternly if you weren’t trying to marry me to the princess,” I replied.

  Edward fiddled with his cuff-links. “Participate more. That’s all I ask.”

  “Fine.” I gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

  Edward didn’t seem to believe that I would give in that easy, but he allowed us to re-enter the room all the same. The servers came around with our next course, and I took the opportunity to participate a little.

  “Svetlana,” I said. “Do you do much charitable work?”

  She eyed me suspiciously. It wouldn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to correlate my change in attitude to the discussion I just had with my brother.

  “My family funds a few charities, but I’m not personally involved in any of them,” she said. “And yourself?”

  I shot a glance at Edward, who was watching our conversation like a man waiting for a bomb to go off. He wasn’t the only one watching, either. Both Clarissa and Victoria were curious as well. I spoke a little louder so everyone could hear.

  “My brother and I are collaborating on a new charity initiative,” I began. “Well, I suppose it’s an old one. My mother was heavily involved in charity work before her death, but the few she created have suffered in the years since. We intend to revamp and relaunch her original charities, and to launch a new one she was planning in the months before she died but never got to bring to life.”

  Svetlana’s eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful! What’s the new charity?”

  “Too many animal shelters in this country are having to kill dogs and cats in order to make space, or because they can’t afford to treat them,” I said. “Mother’s plan was to organize a shelter overflow system, effectively instituting a no-kill policy on a national level.”

  I glanced over at Edward, wearing my best shit-eating grin. He looked furious. Served him right. He’d had plenty of time to look over my proposal, and I saw no reason why he wouldn’t agree to it.

  “That’s an excellent idea!” Svetlana exclaimed, drawing my attention back to her. “I’ll tell my family when I return home and see if there’s any way we can contribute. I’m sure I could convince my father to expand the charity budget.”

  Her enthusiasm was unexpected but appreciated. I would take all the help I could get when it came to getting this plan in motion, especially when my own brother might try to ground it out of spite.

  I smiled warmly at the Swedish princess. “That would be wonderful. You’re too kind.”

  The rest of dinner went by uneventfully. Edward either refused to look at me or had no business down my side of the table, and given that Svetlana had taken such a shine to my project, I figured it was only polite that we chat for the duration of the meal.

  We had after-dinner drinks and I bid Svetlana’s party goodnight. They were staying in the guest quarters, but I likely wouldn’t see Svetlana before she left the next morning. She was visiting family up north for the remainder of her time here.

  Svetlana paused at the doorway before leaving, as if waiting for something. I could feel Edward’s pointed look stabbing the side of my head but ignored both of them until she left.

  Svetlana gone, Edward appeared at my side wearing a sour frown. He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the next room.

  “What the hell was that?” he hissed. “She wanted you to walk her to her room.”

  “I told you,” I said, jerking my arm from his grip. “I’m not into royalty.”

  “I don’t understand this ridiculous notion you cling onto. You’re shooting yourself in the foot.” He shook his head, fingers flying on the sleeve of his shirt. “Svetlana’s beautiful. She’s well spoken, intelligent, cares about the same things as you. The fact that you won’t give her a chance just because she happened to be born into royalty is preposterous.”

  “If I’m not interested, I’m not interested,” I said in a sharp tone that brokered no further argument.

  Svetlana was all the things my brother described, and maybe a week ago I might have been inclined to carve out a little time in my schedule to see if there was something there worth following, but now I knew what I wanted. Svetlana didn’t make me feel anywhere close to how Tamara made me feel, even though she’d had a whole evening, whereas Tamara had drawn me in from the first few seconds. I wasn’t giving up on my actress yet. Not even close.

  Since my love life was no longer on the table, Edward moved to the next item on his list of grievances.

  “Why would you bring up the charities when I haven’t approved it yet?” He thrust his hands in his pockets and glowered at me. “Were you trying to make me look like a fool?”

  “Of course not,” I said with an undignified snort. “But I had to give you a push somehow. You haven’t even looked at my proposal yet. What kind of bullshit is that?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  I strode across the room to the sidebar and picked up the decanter of whiskey on top, pouring myself a glass. It was my father’s favorite. Bless him, he had a supply in almost every room.

  “You’ve been busy or you just don’t care?” I said, staring at him over the top of my crystal glass. I took a sip and fire burned down my throat.

  Edward charged toward me, jaw tense. “You think I don’t care about Mom’s work? Of course I do.”

  “Then why haven’t you looked over the bloody proposal?”

  Ed scraped a hand through his hair and glanced out the window, then back at me. He swore under his breath and moved next to me to pour himself a glass of whiskey too.

  “I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he explained, replacing the cap on the decanter. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass and downed it in one go. “Nobody’s meant to know this yet, but Clarissa is pregnant.”

  All the anger rushed from my mind like the announcement broke a dam. I clapped him on the shoulder and grinned.

  “That’s incredible! Congratulations, brother.”

  Edward’s face was a little too strained for somebody who’d been looking forward to fatherhood since he was a child himself. I could only imagine it had something to do with holding ultimate control over anyone he spawned.

  “I never expected it to be so stressful,” he confided. “There are so many considerations we have to make before we even announce it to the press. And then...” He whistled through his teeth. “It’s going to be an absolute spectacle.”

  A dark cloud swept in over my jubilant mood. The public had a tendency to go rabid where we royals were concerned. The announcement of a royal pregnancy was sure to dominate the airwaves for weeks, and it would
be impossible for me to launch my charity initiative during that time. It would drown in the sea of press otherwise.

  “If anyone can handle it, it’s you,” I said. “Just remember that.”

  Ed’s grass-green eyes filled with warmth and he chuckled. “Clarissa’s doing an even better job than I am, and I don’t have to deal with vomiting every morning. She’s the real star.”

  “You chose well.”

  “Me?” He shook his head. “What makes you think I had any choice in the matter? When you find the right woman, you’ll realize that it was never a matter of choice.”

  Things were getting a little too chummy between us and I was anxious to get back to my apartment. I might not be able to do the kind of work I wanted to do right now, but there was still one matter that sought my immediate attention.

  “I’m going to bed,” I announced, draining my glass and setting it down. “Look over the proposal when you get a chance, will you?”

  “Of course.” Edward stopped me as I went to leave, and I shot him a questioning look.

  “Why don’t you come have a drink with Father and me?” he said.

  He and Father often had late-night drinks by the fireplace, chatting about the weather or stocks or the like. I supposed my invitation was always implied, but it wasn’t often that one of them outright sought my company.

  “Not tonight,” I said. “Goodnight.”

  I left and strolled back to my apartment. Hank was lying on the bed when I entered, and wagged his tail but made no other attempt to move.

  “Lazy mutt,” I muttered.

  He wagged some more, willing me to come pet him with his eyes. Since I was powerless where he was concerned, I did. Nana took him out for me while we were at dinner, and I could tell he was exhausted. The woman might look frail, but she has a wicked arm on her and could throw his ball for hours.

  I crawled into bed, poking Hank with my foot until he shifted over a little, and called Teddy.

  “Teddy’s House of Sin,” he answered sweetly. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid I’ve called the wrong number. I was looking for Bernard’s House of Sin.”

  “Shush, you.” He chuckled. “How did the dinner go?”

  “It went,” I said. “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call.”

  “No? Do go on.”

  “I need your help.”

  Chapter 8

  Tamara

  “Good morning!” Jo trilled, setting a cup of coffee on my bedside table.

  I cracked open an eyelid and swiveled my gaze to the alarm clock. I groaned.

  “Jo, my alarm doesn’t go off for another half an hour.”

  “I know, but I thought it might be nice to wake up to a nice hot cup of coffee and your sister’s charming smile.”

  “You’ve been here over a week,” I muttered. “The fact that you haven’t overcome your jet lag yet is ridiculous. Stop napping.”

  “What else am I supposed to do while you’re at work all day?” She stuck out her bottom lip.

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t know, Jo, maybe go explore one of Europe’s most fascinating capital cities? Surely you didn’t come all the way here just to annoy me awake every morning.”

  “Someone’s grumpy.”

  “Someone was supposed to get another half hour of sleep!”

  Jo flung the blankets off me and I growled menacingly.

  “Let’s get up and have coffee together,” she said. “You’re awake now. May as well go with it.”

  I sighed. Not much I could do to argue with that. If I went back to sleep I’d only end up waking up even more tired. I reluctantly sat up and opened my eyes. Weak sunlight poured through my bedroom window, and outside a blackcap chirped merrily.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.

  I joined Jo in the kitchen with my cup of coffee, and she made us both scrambled eggs while I told her about the day ahead. We also made plans to go see some sights over the weekend.

  I was early to work, and in a good mood to boot. I hummed happily to myself as I mounted the steps to my trailer, and when I opened the door the smell of fresh flowers twirled itself around me.

  Wait. Fresh flowers?

  Over on the table next to the couch stood a beautiful bouquet of blood-red roses. It was huge. It was also a surprise. I hadn’t ordered any flowers, nor did I expect to receive any. What the hell?

  I read the note attached to the stems. “From your secret admirer.”

  Oh, brother. I didn’t have to use much brainpower to figure out who that might be.

  Frustration chipped away at my good mood. It was hard enough turning the prince down the first time, and now he was sending me flowers? The nerve.

  I grabbed the bouquet and strode outside to the big green dumpster, tossing the flowers in. The lid slammed shut with a clang.

  “I think that was a bit dramatic.”

  I spun to find Alexander behind me, a cocky smile firmly in place on his perfect mouth. His hair ruffled in the light breeze, sunlight causing his eyes to glitter. The photography department would kill for a shot like this.

  “What are you doing here?” My accusing tone didn’t budge his smile even a little. “I thought I told you I wasn’t interested.”

  “You did tell me that,” he said, sidling up to me. The closer he got, the harder I found it to breathe.

  “Only problem was, I found it hard to believe you.”

  “That sounds like a you problem,” I retorted.

  The scent of his spicy cologne mixed with the fresh spring air enticingly. I wanted to bury my nose in his shirt.

  “It is a problem, that’s for sure.” Alexander bent his face toward mine, leaving little space between us. “Tamara, please give me a chance. My ego agrees that I should back off, but I can’t.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say. Alexander pounced to beat me to the punch.

  “I know, I know. You don’t want anything flashy or public, and I respect that and I promise you don’t have anything to worry about,” he said. “Just come on one date with me. If you don’t want to see me again after that, fine. I’ll leave it alone. No flowers. No visits.”

  I bit my lip and stared at him. I couldn’t deny the offer had its appeal. Most of the reason I didn’t want anything to do with him was because I couldn’t bear the publicity it would bring, not when I was still so raw from what happened with Michael. I also didn’t want to become just another of the prince’s conquests, but something told me there was more to him than I thought.

  Plus, how many times does a girl get begged out on a date by a prince? His ego might be suffering, but mine was so big I’d never get back in my trailer.

  “Fine, okay,” I said.

  Alexander flashed a set of perfectly straight teeth. “Excellent. Are you free tonight?”

  I was supposed to make dinner with my sister, but after rudely waking me up this morning, letting me go out on a date with a sexy prince was the least she could do.

  “Free as a bird,” I replied.

  Alexander grabbed my hand, kissing the knuckles. My knees turned to gelatin and I had to tighten my thighs to keep standing.

  “Give me your number and I’ll text you the details.”

  I did, and we parted ways. Him, walking like he owned the ground beneath him, which I suppose he did. And me, staring in awe at the dark-haired god who might very well be my undoing.

  That night, I showed up to a small Italian restaurant just outside the city center, still wondering if I’d made the right choice. It was simpler than what I expected, and I almost called Alexander to see if I was at the right place. Then the door swung open, and there he was.

  “Find the place okay?” he asked, guiding me inside.

  The dining room was small, with only a few wooden tables and dim light from the chandelier above. There wasn’t another soul in sight. It may not have been what I expected, but it was perfect.

  “Yeah,” I
answered. “My question is, how did you find this place? It hardly seems like the kind of place the royal family would frequent.”

  Alexander chuckled and pulled out a chair for me at a table in the middle of the room. “You’re not wrong. My best friend Teddy found it for me. He knows everyone in this part of the city.”

  I sat, nodding my head in thanks. “He sounds like a real mover and shaker.”

  “He’s a hair dresser,” Alexander said, taking the seat opposite me. “He loves it. He gets to talk all day nonstop.”

  Footsteps heralded the arrival of our waiter, who set down menus in front of us and disappeared as quickly as he came. I scanned the menu, digesting the concept that the Prince I was out on a date with had a friend who was a barber. Alexander was turning out to be full of surprises.

  After ordering our drinks and meals, there was nothing left between us but table and I forced myself to look into my date’s eyes. Candlelight flickered over his skin, casting shadows on his strong chin and aquiline nose.

  “I don’t know what we should talk about,” I said, feeling awkward for the first time that evening.

  “Whatever you want to talk about. The weather. Bees. The growth of technological industry in the past ten years.” He shrugged and leaned back casually in his seat. “Personally, I’d like to know more about you.”

  Our waiter came over and filled our wine glasses, and I played with the stem of mine while I considered what to say next. I tried to keep my private life as private as possible, and since I still wasn’t sure what to make of Alexander, I was hesitant to reveal too much to him. It was silly to be on guard so much when he’d gone through all this trouble to get me out, but I couldn’t help it. I’d been burned before.

  “How about we talk about you instead,” I proposed. “I’ve seen bits about you in the media here and there, but I don’t know much except that you’re a hard-partying dog lover.”

  Not exactly the truth, but I didn’t want to tell him that I’d read no fewer than five articles on him and his family in the past few weeks.

  He laughed. “That about sums me up.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  His lips curved wickedly. “I like all the normal rich boy pursuits. Fencing, horseback riding, judging those lesser than me.”