Royal

by Tina Martin

  “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asked moving to get off of the sofa.

  “No. I’m coming,” she said walking over to him, then easing back into his lap cradling her body into the mold of his.

  “Perfect,” he said after she got comfortable. “Now, let me get this scarf off of your head.”

  “Touch my scarf and you die,” she told him.

  Royal chuckled. “I don’t know why you make such a big deal out of that.”

  “Because it’s my scarf, and it’s my head. I don’t tell you what to do with your hair. One day you’re smooth shaven and the next, you look like Wolverine.”

  Royal laughed. “You are something else. You know you’re the only person who talks to me this way.”

  “What way is that?”

  He shrugged. “Like you’re not afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Okay, maybe afraid is the wrong word. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I want you to be exactly who you are. A super sweet, smart-mouthed lil’ thang.”

  “Now that I can do,” she said absent-mindedly threading her hand with his again. Not only had she grown comfortable with Royal’s affable nature, but she also trusted him too – odd because the only person she trusted was Gianna. And she’d never been close to a man. Especially one so devastatingly handsome, smart and alpha like Royal. Yet she melted into his arms like marshmallows in hot butter.

  Royal listened as she inhaled a deep breath and let it out evenly. She was probably unaware of her pre-sleep techniques but he knew them well. Knew her well. Within minutes she’d be asleep, in his arms – just the way he wanted it. When he felt the grip she had on his hand loosen, he smiled then whispered, “Goodnight, Gemma.”

  On the verge of sleep himself, he yawned and stretched a little so as not to disturb sleeping beauty then picked up his cell from the table next to the sofa. He saw a missed call from Ramsey thirty minutes ago. He immediately dialed him back.

  “Royal, where’s Gemma?” That’s how Ramsey answered the call.

  “I got her,” Royal told him.

  “You got her.”

  “Yeah…right here in my arms. She’s sleeping.”

  “Gemma’s spending the night with you?”

  “Yeah. I figured you and cupcake could use some privacy.”

  Ramsey grinned. “I have a separated, third-story suite. We have plenty of privacy while Gemma’s here.”

  “You could just say thank you, Ram.”

  “For what? I told you Gemma is no bother to us. We have privacy with her around. I have a live-in butler, remember? Carson? So, tell me—what’s the real reason you decided to take her home? I saw you all up on her at the party.”

  Royal pressed his lips at the top of Gemma’s scarf-covered head and then said evenly, “Okay, maybe I wanted her here with me.”

  “Now, we’re getting to the truth of the matter,” Ramsey said. “There better not be no funny business going on over there either.”

  Royal shook his head thinking that his brother was just as intrusive as he was bossy. “I see Gianna is rubbing off on you. Sounds like something she’d say,” Royal told him. “And I told you Gemma’s sleeping right now.”

  “Well, feel free to bring her home tomorrow. Gianna will be worried sick if you don’t and I don’t want any stress on my wife.”

  “Gianna knows Gemma is in good hands with me, and if she doesn’t know, have her call me in the morning. I’m keeping Gemma for the weekend.”

  “Keeping her for the weekend?” Ramsey repeated. “You say that like she’s yours.”

  “She is mine.”

  “Whoa…really? That’s how you feel?” Ramsey asked.

  “Yeah. That’s how I feel. I’ll talk to you about it later. I’m going to put Gemma to bed right now. And don’t mention anything to Gianna about, you know…”

  Ramsey chuckled. “Anybody with eyes can already see it, Royal.”

  “Not necessarily,” Royal told him. “Gemma has eyes. She can’t see it.”

  “You don’t think she has a clue that you’re feeling her when literally you were feeling her up on the boat?” Ramsey inquired.

  “Not one clue. To her, I’m just a friend.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Not sure yet. I’ve never been in the friend zone before, so I’m not sure how to work my way out of it. Anyway, I’m going to get her to bed. I’ll holla at you on Monday.”

  “Alright, man. Take care of my sister-in-law.”

  “Yep,” Royal said, then hung up the phone and shifted his body a little to make Gemma more comfortable. He grabbed a piece of cover that he kept tossed across the sofa and spread it over her. Then he laid back staring up at the ceiling and said softly, “Everybody can see it except you, Gemma.”

  Chapter 3

  In the morning, Gemma woke up in the guest bedroom. After a quick bathroom visit, she dialed Gianna’s number while lazily walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. She smelled food, so she assumed Royal was in there.

  “Hey, are you on your way back?” she heard Gianna ask.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Gemma quipped. “How are you doing Gianna?”

  “I’ll be doing a lot better when you get your frisky tail home.”

  Gemma grinned. “Did you say frisky?” She laughed some more. “Who says frisky?”

  “Well, just get your butt back to this house. How about that?”

  “Why are you being so mean?” she asked, but she already knew Gianna wasn’t necessarily a morning person. In fact, she wished she’d waited until the afternoon to call her. She would’ve been fully awake by then. More rational.

  “Gemma don’t make me come to Charlotte and pick you up myself.”

  “Okay, now you’re going—” Gemma’s voice caught in her throat when she saw Royal sitting on a barstool at the small island countertop in the kitchen. Shirtless. What was he trying to do? Make her heart completely stop first thing in the morning? Good Lawd!

  “Hello?” Gianna asked. “You there?”

  “Um—” Gemma couldn’t find words as she stared at the sculpted perfection of this man’s chest. What? How? Was this real? She thought men’s bodies only looked like this in movies.

  Royal looked up from his tablet and focused his attention on her. Since she was on the phone, he opted to wave by throwing up his right hand just barely, and even that looked cool and sexy.

  Gemma didn’t wave back. How could she wave? Oxygen wasn’t getting to her brain and since it lacked oxygen, her brain wasn’t functioning properly. Since it wasn’t functioning, how could it tell her to move her arm? Seeing Royal with his shirt off nearly made her lose her footing and her thinking ability. Wow!

  “Gemma?”

  Gemma blinked when she heard Gianna’s voice. She’d momentarily forgotten she was on the phone. Finally coming out of her trance with Royal – more like coming out of a trance with Royal’s body – she said, “Uh...umm...I forgot what I was saying,” she admitted.

  Royal smirked then resumed his business on the tablet.

  “Okay. That’s it. I’m coming to get you,” Gianna said.

  “Gianna, I’m fine. Royal’s not going to harm me. You act like he’s a danger to me,” she said glancing up at Royal, meeting his gaze. He looked to be interested in the conversation now since hearing his name.

  “I know he’s not a danger to you, but he’s a man and if he’s as charming as his brother—” Gianna paused and said, “You know what…put him on the phone.”

  “Oh, jeez. Hold on.” She placed the call on mute, then said to Royal, “My smother wants to talk to you.”

  He laughed, then said, “I’m in a world of trouble now, huh?” He took Gemma’s cell phone, pressed the mute button to turn it off, then said, “Good morning my dearest sister-in-law.”

  “Don’t even try to sweet-talk me. Why did you take my sister?”

  Royal chuckled. “You make it sound
like I kidnapped her or something.”

  Gemma shook her head wordlessly.

  “You may as well have. One minute, you had her detained on the boat. The next, y’all gone.”

  “Did you say I had her detained?” Royal laughed.

  “Yeah, and don’t try to play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Okay, look, Gemma. I thought I told you Gemma was going to be with me.”

  “I don’t recall you telling me anything like that.”

  “Well, I apologize. That’s my bad. I just thought it would be a good idea for her to stay with me this weekend.”

  “And what made you think that?”

  “It was my way of stepping in to give you and Ram some alone time and—”

  “My sister is not a bother to me.”

  “I know that Gianna, but trust me when I say she is fine.”

  Gianna sighed heavily. “Did she take her medicine last night?”

  “She did.”

  “This morning?”

  “She’s about to.”

  “And what about food? Has she eaten? Do you even know what she can and can’t eat?” Gianna asked.

  “I do. She doesn’t eat spicy foods and she doesn’t eat late to avoid getting heartburn. I got this, Gianna. I was in the hospital with Gemma, remember? I know about her care and I know how to take care of her,” he said glancing up at Gemma, catching her eyes on his chest.

  “When are you dropping her off?”

  “Tonight, maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

  “Okay. Put her back on the phone, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Royal pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead and handed Gemma the phone across the table.

  “Have you calmed down yet, sis?” Gemma asked her.

  “Yeah. I feel a little better now. Just take care of yourself.”

  “I will, Gianna. Why do you sound so sad?”

  “I’m not sad. I just worry about you. That’s all.”

  “I’m fine. I promise. I’m with the prince.” She glanced up at Royal and winked. He winked back.

  “Okay. Just make sure the prince keeps his hands to himself.”

  “What?” Gemma asked laughing. “You said…make sure...” Gemma laughed harder –so tickled that she couldn’t get the rest of it out. “I know that’s not what you’re worried about, and if you are, let me assure you…it ain’t that kind of party, Gianna.”

  “Okay. If you say so. I love you, sis. See you tonight.”

  “Love you, too, Gianna. Bye.”

  Gemma was still grinning when she hung up the phone.

  “What’s got you so tickled?” Royal asked before he pressed something on his tablet then pushed it aside on the granite countertop to give Gemma his undivided attention.

  “Nothing,” she said, but she found it hilarious that Gianna thought Royal had the slightest interest in her. Let Gianna tell it and Royal was in love with Gemma, trying to charm her into his bed or something. She found the notion comical. Royal wasn’t checking for her like that. Why would her sister think such a thing? Because that’s what Ramsey did to her?

  “So, being that I woke up in the middle of the guest bed, you must have taken me in there because I don’t remember a thing.”

  “Yep, I took you in there. You fell asleep in my arms on the sofa last night. I fell asleep, too. When I woke up, you were still sleeping like a baby, so I put you in there on the bed. How did you sleep by the way?”

  She glanced at his chest again and said, “Beautiful. I mean, good. I slept good.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you tossed and turned a lot.”

  She frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I watched you for a while.”

  “You’re funny.” Gemma laughed. He actually said that with a straight face. “Anyway, where are your clothes?”

  Royal looked down at his bare chest then back up at her. “So you slept okay?” he asked again.

  “I did, and I don’t know if you’re joking about watching me sleep or what, but I did sleep okay. I usually toss and turn in my sleep. It’s completely normal. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

  “That’s good to know, and no I wasn’t joking. I watched you.”

  Her smile faded when she noted he was serious. When she saw the muscles in his jaw clench. “That’s a bit intrusive, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t,” he said. Like Ramsey, she noticed that Royal liked joking around from time-to-time but he had a serious side, too. “I made you some oatmeal for breakfast,” he said standing up, walking to the microwave. While he walked, Gemma tried not to stare at his smooth complexion, the muscle definition in his back and arms and just the overall way he was beautifully built. And those sweatpants he had on hung right off of a tight, steel butt and when he turned around to walk back toward her, she checked out the front. The man had muscles for days – abs that should’ve been outlawed and a sculpted Adonis belt that lead down to what had to have been something impressive beneath those pants. She chewed on her lip thinking about what a woman must have felt being made love to by a man like him and ways he could move his body and tempt a woman just by looking at her with his determined stares and holding her captive with those big hands while using those lips – those mighty, fine, full lips – to eat words of defiance right out of her mouth. Breaking down her defenses.

  Okay, stop it, Gemma. What are you thinking? This is Royal for crying out loud. Stupid romance movies...

  “Gem?”

  “Huh?” She blinked out of her trance and her eyes brightened like he’d caught her in something.

  “I asked you what you wanted to drink? Where were you just now?”

  “Oh…um…I don’t know. I was just thinking about something. Uh…I’ll drink some—some—um—orange juice.”

  “No. Pick something else.”

  “I want some freakin’ orange juice. I can have some in limited quantities.”

  “I’m aware of that, but the citric acid can cause heartburn, and there’s no need to put yourself through that unnecessarily.”

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you’re worse than Gianna.”

  “If by worse you mean care then you’re right. What do you want to drink?”

  “Nothing. Just forget it.”

  Royal opened the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water. When her food was warm, he brought the bowl over to her then set down chugging water while watching her eat.

  “I thought you didn’t like oatmeal,” she said.

  “I don’t.”

  “But yet, you keep some in the house.”

  “No. I got up early this morning and made a trip to the grocery store specifically for oatmeal.”

  “Really?” she asked, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. Suddenly, she wasn’t as mad about the orange juice any longer.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Gemma. Always.”

  Gemma opened her bottle of water and looked at him wondering why he was staring at her so intently. Why his eyes seemed darker. Maybe he wasn’t in a good mood this morning she surmised and kept that to the forefront of her mind. “How did you sleep, Royal?”

  “I didn’t get much sleep.”

  Aha! Lack of sleep. That definitely contributed to a crabby mood, didn’t it?

  “Why not?”

  “I had a lot on my mind.”

  “You must be thinking about all the work you have to do tomorrow, huh?”

  “Not really. Work is work. I got that handled.” He watched her stir oatmeal just as he’d watched every spoonful go into her mouth. Right now, though, she was only stirring like she was too nervous to eat another bite.

  “I can’t tell you what kind of mood you’re in right now,” she confessed.

  He didn’t respond – only watched her eat with his eyes fixed on her lips as she chewed. And then he g
lanced up at her scarf again. It was starting to bother him that she felt the need to wear them around him when she didn’t have to. He accepted her for who she was. It wouldn’t matter if her head was completely bald. She’d still be his Gemma.

  Gemma glanced up at him and took a sip of water. She lowered the bottle to the table and caught another glimpse of his chest and torso. Those suits he wore hid his muscles too well. Now, she could see them as clear as day, bulging out from each and every way, especially since he didn’t have on a shirt. Of particular note was a tattoo over his left pectoral that read: be true.

  “What does that mean?” she asked staring at it. “Be true.”

  He gave a half smile.

  Finally some emotion she thought. Positive emotion.

  “It’s old,” he said. “I got this tat when I was a senior in high school.”

  “Why?”

  “I was having a hard time. Seemed like my life was falling apart back then. Looking back, I understand now that it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. Sometimes, it’s hard to see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel when you’re knee deep in quicksand.”

  She nodded.

  He shook his head, reminiscing about it, then continued, “I was feeling down on myself…didn’t have a positive outlook on anything. Didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Who I wanted to be. What I wanted to be…the counselors were telling me to do this…teachers were telling me to do that. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend four years in college and that angered my mother. She was always on my back about following in my brothers’ footsteps telling me how successful they were and I never thought I could live up to her expectations…didn’t know if I needed to or if I wanted to. I was ready to throw in the towel to be honest. That’s when my father had a heart-to-heart with me. Told me to be true to who I was and the direction I wanted to go in without comparing myself to other people. Said I had to find my own path and determine what I wanted to do with my life. Eventually, I decided to go to college…majored in business and trust me when I say I did not want to sign on to work for St. Claire Architects.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s challenging working with family, although I don’t think I would have it any other way now.”