by Violet Paige
I straightened my back. “Which one?” The royal family was huge. There were distant cousins and uncles. The family tree was a twisted spider web. He could be talking about a count or a duke.
“His Royal Highness,” he restated.
“Are you talking about the king?” Brooklyn blurted out.
“Shh.” He pinched her elbow. “Tenders are sealed. Don’t speak again.”
She rolled her eyes at him. It did seem ridiculous once we were vetted and inside the club that secrets had to be kept from each other.
“The king? The king was in the audience? And he bid on me?” I whispered quickly.
Two girls walked past us when the MC called another set of numbers. I didn’t notice if they heard our discussion.
“He has placed a formal tender which has been accepted and recorded. There are no bids,” he scolded. “Now we must go.”
I bit my lip. I was ill-prepared for this entire night, but facing the king had never occurred to me. That wasn’t supposed to be an option, was it? That was all Brooklyn’s fantasy. That we’d end up meeting a couple of the royal princes or maybe a couple of dukes. Really, she would have been happy with a B-list actor. The process thrilled her. The secrecy. The exclusivity of being a part of a fabled tradition. She was caught up in fairy tales and stories I hadn’t believed in until I was smack in the middle of one.
I was stuck in a chapter I couldn’t crawl out of.
Brooklyn hugged me. “Have fun. Be good.” She giggled. “I can’t believe you. And you didn’t even want to do this. Of all the members, you got him.”
“But I didn’t. I don’t,” I whispered.
“Come now. You must.”
I waved at Brooklyn, trying to steady my erratic pulse.
I was escorted through a dark passage. Luc’s headset crackled and sputtered the farther we walked.
“Careful, cher.” He guided me to a door. I may have tripped without his help.
My heart beat wildly. I felt frantic. Nervous.
“Do not forget your contract.”
I nodded. I couldn’t remember what was in it. Something about no pictures. No social media posts. I didn’t know the rest. My phone was at the apartment. I wasn’t allowed to bring it to the club.
“But what if—” I looked down to ask a question, but the funny man was gone. The hallway was black. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. My head was swimming. I tried to concentrate on breathing slowly. I was in too deep to back out now. I had to get it together.
I tried to retrace the chain of events that brought me here. One thing was certain. I never expected here to be a dark hallway, alone, waiting to be escorted to a contractually bound evening with His Royal freaking Highness. For the first time tonight, the shiver that ran up my spine might be excitement rather than panic.
My thoughts were interrupted when a green light flashed on the wall. Did that mean I was supposed to go through the door? I waited until finally it seemed ludicrous to stand in the hall any longer.
I took one last deep breath and twisted the knob in my palm. With a gentle push, the door swung open.
I expected a room. Maybe something with red velvety drapes and blue elephant paintings like in the Moulin Rouge. But there was nothing exotic or seductive about what was on the other side. The door was an exit to the back of the parking lot. I was met with dim street lights.
A long black car was parked a few feet in front of me. A driver stood, holding the rear door.
“Mademoiselle,” he greeted me quietly.
I stepped forward.
“This way.”
I eyed him. There was nothing distinguishable about his face. Brown hair. Brown eyes. A round chin. He wore a cap. Was I doing this? Getting into a car behind The Titan?
“His Majesty waits,” he urged me.
“Yes, I know.” I stopped just shy of the door and glanced inside.
From where I stood I could see his arm. I followed the lines of a crisp white shirt to the cuff at his wrist. I couldn’t make out the letters monogrammed on his cufflinks. His watch caught the small bit of light coming off the building. He had large hands. I also noticed his legs were long and muscular in a pair of fitted dark pants.
He strummed his fingers. He was waiting.
“Mademoiselle,” the driver urged.
“Right. Yes.”
I ducked, climbing into the backseat. The door closed behind me. And I came face to face with His Royal Highness.
Five
Damon
I had waited longer than I should have. I checked my watch again. I had paid out the highest tender of my life. I wasn’t leaving here without her. I reminded myself she wasn’t a regular tally. There had never been another woman like her at The Titan before. I wouldn’t have paid half a million otherwise.
Georgan closed the car door as she slid into the leather seat next to me. Finally.
“Good evening.”
“Hi.” Her voice was soft, filling the silent recesses of the backseat.
Fuck. Her lips were even more edible up close. Her cheeks were bright. I knew she wasn’t drunk. It was against the rules. She was either nervous or excited. I considered there was nothing wrong with a combination.
The car lurched forward.
“Where are we going?” she eked. She watched the club fade out of view as Georgan drove toward the coastal highway.
“Does our night extend by the minutes you kept me waiting?”
“Excuse me?” I watched the curve of her neck as she swallowed.
“You’re American?” I questioned. Most of them were. They kept the pipeline running.
“Is that a problem?”
The car careened as we exited, tipping her off balance. She leaned into me, her hair brushing against my shoulder as she pushed away to right her body.
“A defensive American.” I rubbed my chin with my thumb. “Tell me your name.”
“Seven-seven-seven,” she whispered. She didn’t make eye contact. “But Sapphire is the other one they gave me.”
“Your real name,” I corrected her.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that.”
I reached for a bottle of water in the bar and grabbed a second one for her. I twisted the lid from the top and put it in her hands.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked blankly.
She nodded. “I was told you’re one of the royals.” She took a sip.
“One of the royals?” I scoffed. “I must be losing my reputation around here.” I turned to face her squarely. “I’m the royal.”
She fidgeted with the bottle cap. “I know. I was just trying not to make a big deal about it. Maybe I’m not supposed to acknowledge you’re the king of Galona. I-I’m not sure.”
“At least you know my title. You know I have certain exemptions. One of those specifically deals with the name clause. What’s your name?”
“Molly. Molly Washington.”
I chuckled. “It doesn’t get any more American than that.”
Her long lashes lowered a second time. The gesture did something to me. I raised her chin until she lifted her eyes to mine. Her gaze cut right through me. I knew now why they called her Sapphire.
“Tell me. Are you scared of me Molly Washington?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“And why not?” My hand circled over the creaminess of her skin, my fingers pressing into the softness of the back of her neck.
Her chest rose, sending her breasts forward. God, they were unbelievable. Ripe and soft. My eyes trailed upward again, making heated eye contact.
We drove farther up the hillside. The lights of Freychon blanketed the ground below us.
The shield between our seat and Georgan gave me absolute privacy. My mouth grew hungry for her. Her eyes darted back and forth.
“Because you’re the king,” she whispered. “You’re not scary.”
I pressed my lips in a straight line. “And tonight? Why did you sign up for something lik
e this? The Titan?”
I ran my fingertips to the top of her spine, making my own road map to her shoulder. The back of my fingers slid along her arm.
“My friend thought it was an urban legend,” she explained. “And when we were approached it seemed like something we couldn’t turn down.”
“And do you still feel that way?” I asked. “Like you can’t turn it down?”
“I signed the contract.”
“That’s not what I asked.” My voice was cool and dark. “Do you want to be here, Molly Washington?”
We turned into the back of the compound. The palace gates folded open.
I looked at her more patiently than I ever had. As if I was a lion waiting for the gazelle to walk gingerly into the clearing. Was this girl willing to walk into the moonlight and expose herself to my hunger?
“It’s one night. Your night. To be with the king. It won’t happen again. The Titan does not seek return tallies. So you must decide here and now what you want.” I saw her hesitation. “Georgan will drive you home. Or you can walk inside the palace with me.” I pointed to the top floor where a row of lights illuminated a set of windows. “See that block of rooms?”
“Yes.” Her eyes followed my index finger.
“Those are the king’s rooms. My rooms.”
“There are so many. The whole floor is yours?”
“Yes, but that one with the view of the ocean—that one, love is where I’ll take off all your clothes.” I pressed my finger along the hollow of her throat.
Her pulse beat rapidly.
“I’ll take you to my bed,” I promised.
I heard her inhale quickly.
Damn it. I was hard. My cock ached for her here and now. Had I ever wanted a woman so badly?
The car slowed as we approached the tunnel to the private entrance.
My patience had run out.
“What is your decision? Are you going home, or do you want one night with the king?”
Six
Molly
I had never known the silence inside a car could be so deafening. My ears rang. My heart pounded irregularly. I could practically hear the blood rush between my ears.
This morning I was working on my dissertation. I used notecards to sort the broader topics. They were scattered on the floor. I wore pajama pants and a tank top. My hair was twirled in a bun with a pencil crammed in the middle to hold the heaviest pieces in place.
Brooklyn walked in, carrying a carton of lo mein noodles. “You have destroyed our living room.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I’ll clean it up after I get the rest of this section nailed down.”
“Let’s go get coffee,” she suggested.
“I can’t. I don’t have time. Look at this disaster.” I covered my eyes with my palms.
She tugged on my arm. “The notecards will be here when we get back. You need some fresh air. And preferably a change of clothes that isn’t pajamas or yoga pants.” She looked over my wardrobe disapprovingly.
“Again. I don’t have time for real clothes. I’m in the middle of the most critical paper of my life.”
I stumbled to my feet and stepped over the circle of index cards.
“I know. I know. But caffeine will put some of that in perspective.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and shuttled me to my room where I shrugged off the pjs and changed into a cute mini skirt.
I pulled the pencil from the bun and let my hair fall around my shoulders.
I met Brooklyn at the door. “Better?”
“God, yes. You look like a human girl,” she teased.
I rolled my eyes. “One quick coffee. That’s it.”
“Got it.”
I had moved to Galona almost a year ago. The country was beautiful. An island the size of Connecticut floating off the western coast of France and just to the north of Spain. It was quintessential Europe. The food was incredible. The art. The music. The fashion. And my God, the wine was amazing. Only, I didn’t get to see much of it. I spent most of my time in the library at Freychon’s Literary Conservatory.
Brooklyn, on the other hand, had dropped out of the program.
We sat outside under the shade of a café umbrella and sipped espressos.
“How’s the job hunt going?” I prodded.
She shrugged. “I don’t think my skill set is appreciated here.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed. “Employers aren’t jumping at the opportunity to hire an almost-expert of one specific classical poem that no one has ever heard of? You’re kidding.”
“I know! I’m just so misunderstood.” She let out a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes.
“You could wait tables if you had to. Anyone can do that.”
Her cup clinked against the saucer. “I’d rather not. I’m looking for something exciting. Something more challenging than taking cappuccino orders.”
We had discussed this a few times. At some point, she was going to run out of money. “If you take a part-time job you might hear about another job. You could try it.”
“But this is Galona. I want an adventure. A mindless job to pay the rent is exactly what’s waiting for me back in the States. This is my chance to forget responsibility for a while. To make some real memories.”
Before I could respond, something blocked the blaring sun and our table darkened with shade. I looked up to see a man in a suit standing inches from my chair.
“Hi.” Brooklyn and I smiled. I waited for him to continue his walk, but he pulled his sunglasses to the brim of his nose and pushed them firmly in place again.
He nodded. “Are you two here alone?” he spoke with a clipped French accent.
“Yes.” Brooklyn grinned.
I kicked her under the table.
“I have an invitation for you.”
“What sort of invitation?” I asked.
We were alone on the sidewalk. He spoke cautiously.
“It is an exclusive invitation.”
Brooklyn looked at me. I had no idea what that look meant. Did she understand his secret code?
“Please tell me it’s what I think it is.” She looked up at the well-dressed man.
One corner of his lips turned up. “Mademoiselle, it is a high honor to be invited. However, you and your friend must complete a brief interview.”
“Interview?” I looked between them. What was this?
“Yes. Yes, we’ll do it.”
He retrieved a slip of paper from his jacket and placed it on the table. “The instructions are listed. Good luck.”
He nodded and strolled toward the flower shop. The florist watered a basket of sunflowers out front.
“Brooklyn, what in the hell was that about?”
She flipped the card over. “Holy shit, Molly. We just got two tickets into The Titan.”
“The what?”
“I thought it was real, but I never was sure until now. But, of my God. It’s real. It’s real. And we’re going.”
“You’re going to have to give me some information. Some weird random guy stops by and we’re suddenly going to a club I’ve never heard of?”
She read the details on the card. “Ok. We have just enough time to get ready before we need to be there. It looks like the interview might take a few hours.”
“What interview?”
She finished her espresso. She was practically buzzing from caffeine and excitement. “Haven’t you ever had one of those fantasies where you thought if you could just meet Harry Chadsworth or run into Michael Stone even if it was only one night, you’d do it? You’d hook up? You’d dance? You’d do whatever he wanted, right?”
I laughed. “They are Hollywood actors and I doubt they are in Freychon right now. Besides isn’t Harry engaged?” I was clueless about pop culture at this point. I only had time for my dissertation.
“Forget Harry. He’s just an example. But I heard about The Titan. It’s where that can happen.”
“Where what can happen?” I eyed her.
&nbs
p; “Where you can have your famous fantasy.”
“That’s absurd. They are fantasies for a reason. They aren’t obtainable.”
She shook her head. “No. There’s a club. It’s here. It’s in Freychon. And for one night we get one of those fantasies.”
“What are you saying?”
She leaned across the table. “I’m saying if you want to fuck the prince or the guy on the cover of GQ, tonight is your chance.”
“No way.” I continued to shake my head, not believing a word she said.
“It’s one night. No strings attached. The ultimate fantasy. This is life-changing, Molly.”
I folded my arms. “It’s insane.”
She looked over her shoulder, but the suited man was long gone by now. “He chose us. We might not pass the interview. But if we don’t go, we won’t know.”
“Why would I even consider something like this?”
“Come on, it’s been on my Galona bucket list ever since I heard about it. I just didn’t know if it was real. You have to do it with me. Think of the memory this night will give you. For the rest of your life you’ll be able to say you slept with a billionaire. And you got every fantasy you ever wanted. They have the money to make it happen. You’ll never see him again. He’ll never see you. Just a night of off the charts sex with an A-list celebrity. Doesn’t that interest you just a little bit?” She pinched her fingers together.
“No one would ever know?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
I twisted my lips together. “And we might not even make it through the interview process?”
“Right. I’m sure it’s intense. But we have no way of knowing if we don’t at least try.”
She held up the card. “Come on. You need a night to let loose. One night to leave the post-its and note cards and have fun with a hot guy.”
I sighed. It sounded more luxurious than a bubble bath. It also seemed impossible. There was no way I’d make it through the interview.
“Fine. But I’m just going to check the place out. And make sure you haven’t been duped into some scam.”
Brooklyn squealed. “Yes! This is going to be amazing.”