Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by Avery Wilde

  Andrew smiled at that. “Seriously, it’ll take five minutes and then, if you want, I’ll be out of your life for good and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  I made more of a show of thinking this over than was actually necessary. Much as I hated to admit it, it was nice to see him again, and I did need to talk to him at some point to tell him I was pregnant. I didn’t want to be one of those women who kept a baby from a man, no matter what the circumstances.

  “Do you want a drink?” I asked.

  “No thanks,” Andrew said, relieved that he seemed to have been given permission to stay. “I’d rather have a clear head.”

  “All right.” I sat down on my sofa. “Shoot.”

  A brief spasm passed across Andrew’s face which suggested that though he’d got what he wanted, he had been in no way prepared for such an occurrence and was now wondering what the hell he was going to say.

  “I found out about the whole engagement plan a few months ago,” he began. “It never really seemed…real. You know? Just another bullshit thing my mother came up with. I get handed a schedule every few months saying I’m doing this charity event, this dinner, this ceremony where I have to wear silly robes and wave a sword about. And some of them I do, and some I duck out of, and some just don’t come to pass, and I don’t really think about any of them.”

  “You put your own engagement into the category of ‘don’t think about it at all’?” I asked. I’d decided that I’d hear him out and not interrupt, but some things did require clarification.

  “In hindsight,” Andrew continued, “that may have been a bit shortsighted. But I have an explanation. I tried to tell you the other day, but you were quite agitated.”

  I sighed. “Well, let’s hear it.”

  “I honestly never really thought the engagement would happen. I mean, I’ve known Alexandra since we were kids, and I like her well enough I suppose, but I figured it was just one of my mother’s scare tactics. She’s done it before, you know; acted like some wedding was being arranged between me and some aristocrat’s daughter, just to frighten me into settling down. It’s never worked before, and my so-called ‘future fiancées’ always happened to meet someone else within mere weeks of my mother telling me about the alleged future engagement. So it was never real. Just a stupid scare tactic my mother used on me whenever I got in trouble in the gossip columns or something.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So yes, she told me about the upcoming Alexandra engagement thing. But then I met you. And once I met you, her whole plan just faded into insignificance. I never even gave it a moment’s thought until she brought it up again the other day. I figured it would turn out the same as the last few so-called engagement plans—I figured Alexandra would take it about as seriously as I did and meet some other guy, and my mother would forget about the whole thing and leave me be. So when she started talking about it again, I didn’t object; I just sat there and said what she wanted to hear so that I wouldn’t cause a big argument. And that’s what you overheard. Call me a pussy if you like; it’s true, I really acted like one. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve said something to you about it, and I should’ve bloody well told my mother to stop interfering with my life.”

  I didn’t say anything for a moment as his words sank in, and he ran a hand through his hair and spoke again. “I know this must be hard to believe, but this is just the way royalty works.”

  “What way is that, exactly? As a commoner, I’m still a little confused,” I said, my voice tinged with sarcasm.

  “Your life isn’t your own. You’re a symbol and you have to be that symbol, even in your personal life. And that means that your personal life is stage-managed to fit with someone else’s preconceived notions of what it ought to be.” He sat, looking glum. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always kicked against it. Gone my own way and thoroughly pissed people off in the meantime.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you trying to make me believe that sleeping around and getting hammered makes you some sort of revolutionary?”

  I had limited patience with privileged people feeling sorry for themselves.

  “I guess that might be stretching a point,” Andrew admitted. “But in my own way…” he paused, obviously trying to order his thoughts, which was actually quite adorable. “You know how all kids rebel against their parents?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, my mother is the symbolic embodiment of Great Britain. So to rebel against her—which all kids have to do—I rebel against my country. Or at least the part of it that expects me to follow a preset path my whole life.” He shook his head. “How did this happen?”

  “You were born.”

  “No, I mean: how did I end up talking about me?” He shook his head again. “I came here with such good intentions: to tell you how great you are and that if you want me out of your life, I’ll go, but if I can be a part of your life in even the smallest way, then I’d be the happiest man on the planet. And I end up talking about myself like I always do. I try, I really do, but there’s just something innately selfish about me.”

  I had to smile. He was a bit selfish. But most people were, to a degree—selfishness seemed to be the natural human condition. At least Andrew was honest and self-deprecating about it, and it was nice to hear him talk without guile, without arrogance, and without agenda. For once, he didn’t seem like he was trying to get me back or get me into bed. He just couldn’t bear me hating him over a terrible misunderstanding, and there was something incredibly sweet about that.

  My earlier anger faded away as I realized I really had overreacted to the whole situation—though not without reason—and I sat down and took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to tell him my news, and I had to tell him before it was too late.

  “Andrew, I’m pregnant,” I said.

  Before he could say anything in response, I hurriedly continued.

  “I guess one of the condoms broke and we didn’t notice, so I know we didn’t plan it, but there it is,” I said. “And maybe the pregnancy hormones have been making me overreact to things, but I really should’ve let you explain your side of the story the other day. I’m sorry. I just…I was so upset because I really…”

  My voice trailed off as Andrew stared at me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d meant to just blurt it all out like that, and I wasn’t sure that this was the best time to say it, but it was out there now. I kept looking at Andrew, wanting to see that first, honest, unguarded response when my words sank in.

  His eyes remained wide, and a smile spread like a sunrise across his features. “I’m going to be a father?”

  I nodded.

  “Wait…it is mine, right?”

  I threw a cushion at him.

  “I was joking!” he said, ducking away from it.

  “It wasn’t funny!” I said, preparing to launch another cushion.

  “Sorry. I tend to deal with shocking news with humor, and you know I have an awful sense of humor…but…I’m really going to be a father?”

  “Yes,” I said, a soft smile spreading across my face as I lowered the cushion back to the sofa. “You are. I know this will cause massive problems with your family, not to mention the tabloids, and I’m sorry for that, but I—”

  Andrew sprang to his feet, dashed across the room and kissed me, cutting me off mid-sentence. After a second, he broke away and looked down at me, his eyes shining with emotion.

  “Keira, I love you. I don’t know if you want me back in your life, but whatever you want from me, whatever you need, I’ll be there. You and this baby,” he said, laying his hand on my belly, “are all that matter to me. Screw everyone and everything else.”

  My heart soared, higher and higher with each word that spilled from his mouth.

  “Andrew,” I said softly. “I love you too.”

  It was the first time we’d said it out loud.

  Andrew leaned forward again, claiming my lips with his, and I kissed him back, our tongues meeting and clash
ing in a feverish embrace as all our problems from the last few days melted away. There was a whole mess to clear up that didn’t currently bear thinking about, but as long as we were with each other, then nothing else mattered for the time being.

  We were finally together again, and we’d finally admitted that we were in love. That was all that mattered now.

  Chapter 17

  Andrew

  First things first, I decided as I left my room the following morning. I had to speak to my mother and let her know once and for all that I would most certainly not be going through with her farce of an arranged engagement, let alone actually marrying Princess Alexandra, and then I’d tell her that I’d met someone else. Then Keira and I would probably have to spend a few months hiding out somewhere, possibly France—or Bermuda, if France did not prove distant enough—and wait for things to blow over before mentioning the pregnancy, seeing as the first bit of news might just be enough to make her heart give out.

  Or perhaps everyone would take it really well. There’d been a time when she’d liked Keira. Perhaps I was building all this up for nothing and it would go really well. It didn’t seem likely, but a man could always hope.

  I found her in her private office. She listened in stony silence as I began my little speech, first explaining that I would not be doing anything with Princess Alexandra under any circumstances.

  “Why not?” she asked, her voice as level and unreadable as her face.

  “Well,” I said, “leaving to one side that I don’t love her, I honestly thought this was just another one of your scare tactics for trying to make me realize I need to settle down. You know, like the last three girls you tried to tell me I had to marry? Those marriages never happened, and I assumed this was more of the same.”

  “First of all, they were ladies, not girls, and secondly, none of this has ever been a scare tactic. You may have seen it that way, but I’ve been trying to find you a suitable wife since you reached your twenties. It may seem like a joke to you as you’re still so young, but it’s your royal duty to marry an appropriate woman and produce an heir.”

  Well…I already had an heir on the way, not that she knew about it yet.

  “I want to have a proper daughter-in-law and future Queen,” my mother continued. “The succession may not be important to you, but it is to me and many others. It’s basically your only real job. And left to your own devices, I don’t see you getting married anytime soon.”

  I took this as the best cue I was likely to get. “Well, I can set your mind at rest on that front. I’ve met someone!”

  I decided not to go further just yet—the fact that the succession was secure might be good news, but the fact that it had been secured out of wedlock with an employee of ours might not be the best news she’d heard today.

  “Indeed?” She raised a regal eyebrow. “What convenient timing.”

  I was confused for a moment. “What?”

  “I was just remarking,” she continued, voice thick with sarcasm. “On what an astonishing coincidence it is that, after years of sleeping with everything that would roll over for you, you happen upon the woman you wish to marry just before your engagement to someone else is announced. How convenient for all concerned! I’ll get on the phone immediately and cancel Alexandra’s visit. And when I’ve done that, I’m sure a wedding will take place between you and this other girl. There’s no chance that you might string it out for a month then say it’s all off—at which point of course there’ll be no getting Alexandra to marry you because no one likes to be jilted like that—leaving you off the hook and able to continue sleeping with everything that’ll roll over for you. No, I’m completely sure that that won’t happen. No chance at all.”

  Sarcasm wasn’t usually something a queen used, but for an amateur, my mother made an awfully good stab at it.

  “That’s not what I’m doing at all,” I said, although I had to admit that it did sound exactly like the sort of thing that I might have done in the past, before I met Keira.

  I could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at me, but she refrained. “Fine. Does this girl have a name?” she asked.

  I took a deep breath. “Keira Valencia,” I said.

  Just having her name on my tongue reminded me of the sweetness of her lips, and my heart soared as I remembered what it felt like when she’d told me she was having my baby; our little piece of serendipity.

  The Queen’s brow furrowed. “Valencia? Spanish nobility?”

  “I rather doubt it.”

  “Good, because you don’t want to get mixed up in that. Some of them are as bad as you are. Or very nearly.”

  “She’s American.”

  “American?” Her brow unfurrowed as realization struck. “That Keira Valencia?”

  “Yes.”

  “The maid.”

  “I don’t think of her that way, but yes.”

  She stiffened. “Enough of your ridiculous jokes. It’s about time you grew out of this awful sense of humor you have. Alexandra will be here shortly. We will have a pleasant dinner together, during which time you will treat her with a great deal more decorum than you treat most of your female friends. You will smile, you will laugh, you will compliment her dress and her hair, you will pay attention to her and have eyes only for her. An engagement will be announced at the end of her visit and the wedding will take place within the next six months. Is that clear?”

  “No,” I said, holding up a hand. “That’s not happening. And I have met someone; it’s not a joke. Keira…”

  “I’ve met Keira,” she said, interrupting me. “A pleasant and intelligent girl, I thought. Certainly not deserving of being dragged into this unpleasant deception you are attempting to perpetrate.”

  “It’s not a bloody lie!” I said, my hands balling into fists by my side. I wanted to say far worse words right now, but this situation didn’t need to be made any worse by my mother fainting at the sound of me saying ‘fuck’.

  “You know,” she answered me with an icy hauteur, clearly quite angry though holding it closely in check, “I have always deplored your lifestyle but I have taken some comfort from the fact that you did not bring it home—you left the staff unmolested. To find that even that civility has escaped you is at best disappointing. And to find that you would exploit the genuine feelings of a girl you have previously used, and would use her further to weasel out of your royal marriage obligations…there are days when I can barely even look at you. Get out.”

  I narrowed my eyes and spoke, my voice steely. “Not until I’ve damn well gotten it through to you that I’m not using her. I’m in love with K—”

  “I said get out! Now!”

  My mother seldom raised her voice, but she had just then to cut me off, making it all too clear how upset she was. Her personal bodyguard, who’d been standing nearby, quickly came over and tapped me on the shoulder before gesturing for me to leave.

  I wanted to explain the misunderstanding. I wanted to make it clear that Keira was not some passing fancy, but the love of my life. But to have my mother tear my selfish life apart like this, to hear what had remained unsaid for so long… I was used to being a disappointment and the black sheep of the family. I had always been rather proud of it and worn it as a badge of honor. I was a rebel. But until now, I hadn’t known just how much I’d hurt my mother in the process.

  Shit. I had to sort this out and make things right. Not just for me and Keira, but for my mother too.

  ***

  Bentleys, Rolls Royces and other expensive cars began to converge on Wellington Castle at eight o’clock, bearing down on the place like sleek, black sharks on the trail of blood. At the doors they disgorged their noble cargo of tuxedoed men and gowned women, and I could practically smell the high-class breeding in the air.

  In the Castle’s capacious hall, I greeted the guests, standing beside my mother, a forced smile making my face ache, but not as much as my heart. I still had no idea what to do. There was no way in hell I was going t
o form any sort of engagement with Alexandra at the end of this weekend, but in not doing so, I’d just be adding to the hurt I’d already caused my mother. I just couldn’t win either way. With time, perhaps, she would come to realize that I was serious about Keira and that we had a future together that I genuinely wanted to pursue, but that realization would take a while, and in the meantime I was simply twisting the knife.

  It seemed that there was no easy road to follow, and for me that was a shock. Though I’d always liked to think of myself as a rebel, I’d recently realized that all I’d ever done was take the easy way throughout my entire life. Whenever two options presented themselves, I’d gone with the path of least resistance. State dinner or party? Party every time. Entertain visiting dignitaries or entertain cocktail waitresses? Not even a question. The more I thought about it, the less it seemed like a man kicking against the restrictions of his upbringing and the more like a man born into an easy life, too lazy even to do the minimum required of him to earn it.

  I’d never even considered these things until Keira had come into my life. She was so smart and ambitious, and seeing her light up when she talked about her future art career made me realize just how much time I’d wasted doing practically fuck all with my life. I needed to change; needed to be a better man for her and our baby.

  Now might not have been the best time to be having these personal revelations, but there it was. The frustrating thing was that they weren’t helpful in the slightest. In the past when I’d chosen the easy road of my own pleasure over duty, it had been the wrong thing to do. Now, for the first time, rejecting what was perceived as my duty was actually the right thing—marrying Keira instead of Alexandra was right from every angle. But, like the boy who cried wolf, I’d done the wrong thing too often for my good intentions to be believable now.

  So what in the hell was I going to do?

  Well, for starters, I was going to eat dinner, be polite, and hope that something went badly wrong with our international relations. With a bit of luck Britain might declare war on Sweden. Then I’d be able to get out of this bullshit Alexandra situation without completely and permanently destroying my relationship with my mother.