Royal Player (The Rourkes, Book 5)

by Kylie Gilmore

  Oscar’s been really attentive tonight, and who am I kidding, he reeks of sexual prowess. If ever there was an ideal candidate for a sexual favor, he is it. Also, he’s warm and friendly and speaks French. Ideal times three or four! So many ideal things about him! I didn’t know how to ask Oscar to help me out, so that’s why I brought up Alice’s observations. I’m so glad she overshares. Now I get to have an adventure, and it’s the kind that doesn’t have any dire consequences. A win for virgins everywhere!

  We arrive in the upstairs hallway. The light’s on, and I spy two rooms with closed doors. “Which room?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, a smile playing over his lips. “You’re lucky you’re with me. Come on.” He inclines his head toward the end of the hallway.

  “I am lucky.”

  I hear him laugh quietly as I follow him to a door that’s ajar, and he pushes it open. I’m not sure why he’s laughing. Maybe he’s not good with compliments, and they make him laugh uncomfortably. Oh! There’s another set of stairs. I follow him up. His ass is cute in his black trousers. I couldn’t see it so well earlier with his blazer covering it. Hey! We’re on a roof terrace. Only a few couples are up here, sitting on chaise lounges, relaxing and taking in the view.

  He goes to a round table with an umbrella and pulls two cushioned chairs around for us to have a view of the sea. I take a seat, and he sits next to me.

  “It’s not very private up here,” I whisper. “There’s other couples.” I glance behind us. “And the umbrella is down, so it’s too skinny to hide us from view.”

  He inclines his head. Mr. Cool about to have public not-sex. Maybe he has a sneaky way in mind. Like if he kneels in front of me and I just hike up my dress a bit. I flush hot just thinking about it. Wait, he does know he’s supposed to go down on me, right? Maybe I was too subtle. I meant I specifically wanted him to do it, not just any man making eyes at me. That was a total bluff. Oscar has been my magnet for days. Two days, in fact. Ever since we met.

  I glance at him. He’s got a small knowing smirk on his face.

  Yeah, he knows. We can get right down to business.

  I hike my dress up, nearly to my plain white panties. “Public, shmublic,” I say, adding to my cool casual air. My breath comes a little harder. I stare at the sea, nearly vibrating in anticipation.

  His voice drops to a low tone. “We’re here because there’s fewer people on the terrace to hear Princess Polly Lyon spouting off about going down and virgin adventures. Now you can say whatever you want without it biting you in the ass later. You might be in a flapper dress, but I’d be willing to bet people know who you are.”

  I deflate. “So we’re not—”

  “No.”

  Argh. This is so-o-o disappointing. It’s almost like I ditched one chaperone for another. I could’ve sworn he was the guy up for anything. Didn’t Anna say he was the partying player guy? Crap. Maybe she meant player like football player, the regular soccer kind. Just my luck.

  But he smells so good. I glance at him, looking all relaxed and sexually confident. I bet he’s good at going down, and he’s purposely keeping it from me.

  I scowl. “First of all, I doubt anyone recognizes me without my veil and showing my shoulders.”

  “You have to wear a veil too?” he asks softly.

  I ignore the hint of sympathy in his voice. “Second of all, I’m not officially engaged until after the mandatory six-week courtship, so if that’s what’s making you withhold not-sex from me, you don’t need to be concerned about that.”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “Anna says you just earned your MBA.”

  “And?”

  “So you must have an interest in business. What do you think we could do to make our casino stand out from what people can get here in Monte Carlo?”

  I blink a few times. “You want my opinion on business matters?”

  “Yes. It’s better than talking about not-sex with you. And, by the way, that still counts as sex. Don’t let anyone fool you about that.”

  I lean close, wanting something more. I like that he asked me about business, but I still have this pull inside me, this attraction that won’t let go.

  He pinches my chin, his aquamarine eyes warm on mine. “Polly.”

  My lips part. I’m so rarely touched. The untouchable princess held up as a paragon of virtue. “Yes?”

  “I’m really trying to be the sensible one here. Can we please talk about something else?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  He drops his hand. “So I’m thinking what they can get here in Monte Carlo is old-world glamour. So what if we go the other way and make our casino ultramodern, wired up with the latest tech, the latest in gaming while still having the classics. We could even have online poker that draws players from afar, maybe give them some incentive to show up in person with a rewards program.”

  My throat gets tight. There’s just something so nice about talking business. “I have an MBA and a degree in economics, and you’re the first person outside a classroom to ever ask my opinion on business matters.”

  He rubs his scruffy jaw. “You’re smart.”

  I straighten and square my shoulders. “I am.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “I think, and bear in mind I’m slightly tipsy right now, but I think you should go hipster Brooklyn with it. Make it cool, make it casual, make it fun. But also traditional.”

  “You ever been to Brooklyn?”

  “No, but I’ve read up on it. I find it fascinating. There’s been a resurgence of traditional arts and craftsmanship. Gourmet artisanal pickles, for instance.”

  He laughs. “Pickles.”

  I smile. “Yes, but hear me out. Villroy’s strength is in its long proud history, so why not let that be part of it too? Maybe some tie-in with Viking decor or food. Historic touches with a cool laid-back vibe. I bet Alice could help with all the history stuff. I’m just throwing stuff out here.” I poke his chest, surprised at how hard it is. “You should ask me again tomorrow when my head isn’t so fuzzy.” I poke him again. “Why is your chest so hard?”

  He grins. “What did you expect it to be? Soft?”

  I face forward, realizing now why I’m surprised. Because I’ve only touched a few men in my life and they weren’t fit like he is. Of course he is, he’s an athlete. I’ve had three kisses with soft men and not once have I felt passion. This depresses the shit out of me.

  He nudges my shoulder. “You know what? I like your idea for the casino even better.”

  My gaze snaps to his. “You do?”

  He nods. “I have cousins in Brooklyn. Maybe I should pay them a visit, check out the scene. I’ve never met them, but I’ve heard about them through my sister Silvia. She lives in the US.”

  “How come you never met them?”

  And then he tells me the kind of story that hits me deep in my soul. His uncle, the heir to the throne of Villroy, fell in love with a commoner, a woman from Brooklyn. His parents wouldn’t allow the marriage. He was forced to abdicate the throne to marry his love. He moved with her to Brooklyn and was exiled from Villroy forever. His entire family was cut off, none of his sons enjoying the wealth or privilege that was their birthright. It’s a cautionary tale and one that makes me realize I was foolishly playing with fire tonight.

  “Thank you for being the sensible one tonight,” I say somberly. “I’m in a similar position as your uncle was, except I don’t seek love. I seek only what’s rightfully mine. If I don’t marry the man chosen for me, I’ll lose my birthright. Much like your uncle.” Bitterness tinges my voice. “And I will exile myself before watching my cousin take over as king.”

  His brows scrunch together. “Your cousin would be king if you don’t marry that man? Why?”

  “Because my cousin is a man. An eighteen-year-old inexperienced, ill-prepared, immature man, but apparently that’s better than a woman any day.”

  He stiffens. “Doesn’t your kingdom realize the world has move
d forward? Women are leaders in lots of places.”

  “Our traditions are what make our kingdom strong,” I say automatically.

  He stares at me for a long moment. “Is that why you escaped to the US under a false identity last year? To put off your marriage to him?”

  “Yes. Obviously I can’t stay away forever. It’s time. My father wants to step down as king. His Parkinson’s disease is getting worse.”

  His gaze is intent on mine, his voice fierce. “It’s wrong, and I hate that you’re in that position.”

  Something in me cracks open, the air whooshing from my lungs. My eyes are hot. Here is a man who believes I have a right to leadership, who asks my opinion on business matters and takes them seriously. He’s so much more than a party guy. He’s wonderful.

  “Thank you,” I manage and turn my head away. I try to hold them back, but a tear escapes anyway.

  “Are you crying?”

  “N-no.”

  “Okay.”

  And then his arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me close. I close my eyes and press my cheek against his warm hard chest. For the first time in my life I feel supported. And the sad thing is, I can’t remember the last time I was held. It makes me feel so mushy inside.

  “I’m not the princess I’m supposed to be,” I tell his chest. “I never have been.”

  His arm tightens around me. “You’re fine just the way you are. Do not let them take that away from you.”

  I lift my head. “Take what?”

  “Your light. You glow with a zest for life. Hold onto that no matter what. It’s rare.”

  I snuggle in closer because it sounds like maybe he thinks I’m special. My whole life I’ve felt like a cog in a machine far more powerful than me. I never want to lose this feeling. I close my eyes and soak it in for as long as he’ll let me, which turns out to be a very long time. I’m nearly asleep when I hear a deep voice say, “There you are!”

  Oscar snaps to attention, straightening and taking his arm off me. “Hey, Lucas, just taking in the view.”

  I instantly feel the loss. I may never have it again.

  ~ ~ ~

  Oscar

  My brothers and Alice interrupted my time on the roof with Polly, and I’m more irritated than is reasonable. It’s just that I was able to give Polly comfort and it felt good. No one ever turns to me for comfort. I’m the guy you party with or joke around with, not the one you turn to in a time of distress.

  “It’s not looking good for Charles’s investment,” Lucas says. “He’s strapped right now investing in another casino due to open here.”

  “Fuck,” I say. “No wonder we barely got time with him tonight.”

  “We’re still going to meet with him tomorrow,” Adrian says. “He may have leads for other investors, and I want to hear any advice he has for the casino business.”

  “Sure,” I say flatly, though I don’t see the point. We want someone we know, not just anyone with bucks.

  Polly pipes up. “I could invest.”

  Alice wags her finger at her. “Polly, don’t drink and invest.”

  “I’m relatively sober now,” Polly says.

  “Oh, I’m still flying high,” Alice says. “Probably because I had these chocolate candies. They were like little liquor bottles with drinks inside them.”

  Lucas kisses the top of her head. “Barely any liquor in them, darling.”

  I turn to Polly. “Do you have funds of your own? Would you need to get the okay from someone back home?” As closely guarded as she is, I imagine her funds are held even tighter.

  She presses her lips together. “I won’t receive full access to my funds until I marry.”

  “And then your husband will have a say,” I point out.

  She lifts a finger. “Don’t count me out yet. Let me think on it and find a way. I want to go to your meeting tomorrow to see what Charles has to say about the casino business.”

  I turn to Adrian in question. He knows Charles better than any of us.

  “Sure, he won’t mind one more at the meeting,” Adrian says.

  Polly smiles, but she looks worried. Probably trying to figure out if it’s even a real possibility for her to invest. She wants to use her business smarts, but once again her backward kingdom holds her back. Part of me wants to rescue her from it, just take her out of there and let her live free, but I know she doesn’t want that. She wants her birthright, to be queen. I would too if I were heir to a kingdom. I just wish there was more I could do.

  “You want to hit a nightclub?” Adrian asks us.

  “Yes!” Polly and Alice say in unison, and then, “Jinx!” They punch each other in the arm and both say, “Ow!”

  I chuckle. “Let’s go.”

  We head downstairs to say goodbye to Charles, finding him chatting up a group of beautiful women, his arms around two of them. He’s a thirtysomething man with blond highlights in his brown hair and an overly white smile. I bet he gets post-party action on top of the action he already got upstairs.

  “We’re heading out,” Adrian says. “Thanks so much, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” Charles says in heavily accented English. He pulls away from the women and approaches Polly. “Where have you been hiding all evening? I must know your name.”

  Polly smiles politely. “I’m Polly, very nice to meet you. I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow.”

  He takes her hand and kisses the back of it. That’s my move. It looks so fake when he does it. “You look so familiar. Are you royalty like your friends? Such a regal graceful air about you.”

  “Yes,” she says.

  He drops her hand and steps into her personal space, which you should not do with royalty. Ass. “Where are you from?”

  She meets his eyes directly while shifting backward. “Beaumont Islands.”

  “Beaumont?” He switches to French. “A popular vacation spot. You are the princess with the veil and the modest clothes.” He gestures to her hair. “What’s happened? The Monte Carlo air has set you free.” He smiles, showing off his overly white teeth. My own teeth are on edge.

  Polly nods. “Something like that. I love it here. There’s energy and excitement in the air.”

  “Such life in you.” He gestures around her body, close but not touching. I barely resist smacking his hand away. “An aura of sparkling spirit.”

  Aura. Please. She does have a glow, though. Guess I’m not the only one to notice.

  “Goodnight,” I say.

  Polly backs up a step. “Yes. Thank you again. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, lovely,” he says in a husky suggestive voice.

  She turns and walks away. We all follow her.

  “You get that a lot?” I ask her. “Random guys hitting on you?”

  She looks surprised. “No, actually. I mean, in college a few times, but Marge is very effective man repellant.”

  I grimace. “He was out of line. You told him you’d be at the business meeting, and he was disgustingly flirty with you. He should’ve been professional.”

  “Thank you for your assessment of the situation,” she says pertly.

  I stiffen. I was just trying to help her out.

  We reach the elevator, and I stand back with my brothers, letting the women get on first. “You sound jealous,” Adrian says under his breath to me. “Cool it.”

  I shoot him a dark look. Jealous. I’ve never been jealous in my life. Charles was out of line. Besides, he doesn’t have a chance with Polly. She’s practically engaged.

  I step inside the elevator and glance at Polly. She’s twirling her long ponytail around her finger, creating a single corkscrew curl. If I gave it a tug, it would probably spring back. Her guard is in the corner behind her.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and look straight ahead. I can still see her in my peripheral vision—dark hair, creamy skin, silver scrap of a dress. What if she asks Charles to go down on her? Why was I so damn sensible? I should’ve taken her up on it. Th
ere’s a lot you can do besides actual…no. I need to protect her from lusty men, including myself.

  I glance sideways at her, our eyes meeting for an electrifying moment. The attraction is a living, breathing thing between us. Her gaze is almost…longing before her lashes flutter down and she looks away.

  I swallow hard. I need to do the right thing, even though every cell in my body is drawing me to her.

  “We should elope tonight Vegas style!” Alice announces.

  Lucas smiles widely. “Really?”

  Alice beams. “Yes! Let’s get married!”

  “Are you drunk?” he asks gently.

  She holds her fingers up, pinching a tiny space between her index finger and thumb. “Just a little, but I do want to marry you.”

  Lucas swallows visibly. “Alice, darling, I would love nothing more than to marry you, but you can’t elope Vegas-style in Monte Carlo. They don’t have that here, legally speaking.”

  Her shoulders droop. “Oh.”

  I exchange an amused look with Adrian. It’s bizarre to witness a sort of proposal in the tight space of an elevator.

  The doors open, and we head out to the white marbled lobby.

  “It’s better not to elope,” Lucas says. “You want your parents at our wedding, right?”

  “Yes,” Alice admits. “It just seemed so romantic to be swept away in a Monte Carlo moment, but you’re right. A rush wedding wouldn’t be as romantic as a wedding with everyone we love.”

  Lucas strides ahead of her and then stops in the center of the lobby, holding a palm up to us to wait.

  We all stop to stare at him.

  He crooks his finger at Alice, and she rushes forward. He takes her hand and speaks in a clear voice that carries like he’s speaking his truth for the world to hear. “I’ve been waiting for your signal, and you just gave it to me. I love you. There will never be another for me. You are my beloved, my life, my everything. Sweet Alice, I will spend every day for the rest of my life making your reality better than fiction.” Very appropriate for a romance author.