Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

“
W
ait
… are you
firing
me?” I whisper into the phone, shocked.

Silence for a few seconds while Isaac tries to formulate an answer.

“I wouldn’t think of it that way, Katherine,” he sighs, sounding more Italian than ever. “It’s just… if I can be honest with you, we loved your designs. Still love them. But I’m a lowly fashion director, not a brand owner. The owners got a call from some high-ups in Courtland…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hiss.

“Alas, no. Someone wants you keeping a low profile, and launching a personal fashion line apparently does not fit into their vision for you.” He pauses. “I am very sorry, Katherine. Please come back to us when all this unpleasantness has cleared up, no? Your designs are quite promising…”

I sigh and thank him before hanging up.

Great. Grounded
and
fired.
Perfect
.

Gritting my teeth, I toss my phone on the bed and sprawl out on my mattress.

This move back to Courtland has been nothing less than a disaster. I pick up the tabloid lying next to me on the bed.

S
candal
!!! Lady Katherine’s Ex Tells ALL!!!

I
hurl
it across the room, scattering pages everywhere. Not only is Charles a fucking cheating douchebag, not only is he blackmailing me for money I can’t just summon without a reason… he’s also whispering lies to the paparazzi, for cash.

It’s a little funny, really. I dated Charles because he was the safe, practical choice. He kept my secrets, he stood by me and didn’t shame me.

And yet… now, this. It’s not like it could have come about overnight, either. I must have overlooked a ton of stuff over the years, eager to care for and confide in someone, anyone.

Eager to replace Rex, too, if I’m honest.

My phone beeps. It’s an email from the lawyer that manages my father’s estate and my trust, what little’s left of it.

Katherine, I regret to inform you…

I don’t bother to read the rest. He can’t get me the money that Charles is demanding in exchange for his silence. 50,000 USD to send him back to the States for good.

Or else… he tells everyone exactly how we met. Not in an English lit seminar or whatever crap we’ve been telling people all this time.

I sit up, feeling restless. Moping is useless. Blaming my past self is useless. I need to move around, do something interesting.

I hear the sound of keys hitting a hard surface.

Rex is home, presumably. I haven’t seen him in days, not the day since I walked away from him after he… touched me.

He’s pissed at me, but… he doesn’t understand.

Why we need to be apart. Why we can’t ever, ever sleep together again.

I let lust rule me before, when we were together. It almost ruined me, ended up making me want to
die
.

I couldn’t get out of bed for a month. I almost failed out of Brown. If it wasn’t for Charles, I certainly would have.

So why do I take my hair down from its bun and slink into the living room, looking for Rex to entertain me?

Foolish
, I tell myself, but I’m going stir crazy.

I have to talk to someone, even if it’s someone I’m keeping a lot of secrets from…

“Hey,” I say when Rex emerges from his room, changed from his business attire into a tight emerald green t-shirt and low slung dark jeans.

“Hey,” he says cautiously.

He’s barefoot, which for some reason turns me on. Well, everything turns me on lately, but that
especially
.

Rex eyes me with suspicion, but he also looks just plain worn out.

“Rough day at the office?” I ask.

“You could say that. It’s been a difficult week,” he says.

“So… you got some kind of alcohol in this place, or what?” I ask.

He stares at me for a second, then a dimple flashes in his cheek. For some reason, he finds me amusing.

“None of the hard stuff, but I’ve got quite a selection of wine,” he says.

“I’m not picky,” I say. “I just want to sit on the balcony and watch the sun go down, maybe drink too much wine.”

Rex laughs and walks into the kitchen, opening a cabinet. I haven’t inspected the kitchen much, since I don’t really cook. Especially when I’m by myself here, I just order in sushi from a place around the corner.

The cabinet has been retrofitted with a wine rack, and it’s chock full of wine.

“Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rex asks, pulling out a couple bottles to see the choices. “Or… I have a good 2008 sparkling Shiraz.”

“Fancy,” I say, impressed. “Let’s have the Shiraz, then.”

“There’s an ice bucket on the counter,” he says, pointing it out. “If you get it set up outside with some ice, I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

I fill the bucket as he roots around in a high kitchen cabinet.

“Aha!” he says, producing two stemless champagne flutes. “You know, in case we have so much wine as to become
inelegant
.”

I giggle. His British-influenced Courtland accent is particularly thick when he’s being silly. My accent flattened after five years in the States, but spending so much time around Rex is bringing it back to life.

We settle on his huge balcony, pulling our lounge chairs up so we can kick our feet up on the railing. Rex puts the wine on to chill, and soon we’re sipping cool sparkling red wine and watching the sun sink below the horizon.

“So?” I ask. “Why was your day so terrible?”

Rex pulls a face. “One of the board members is out for blood. I made some specific promises to them regarding my appearance in the press, and…”

He waves a hand.

“Wait, are you in trouble because of the other night at the club?” I ask.

He shrugs, which I take as a
yes
. I mull that over, and we’re both quiet for a minute.

“How did the track come about?” I ask. “It didn’t exist when I moved away, I’m pretty sure.”

Rex nods.

“We built it, myself and the trustees.”

“Is it lucrative? It seems like it would be.”

“Well, I won’t turn a profit for five years,” he explains. “We pay off our construction loans, which we’ve nearly done, and then my share of the take goes to charity.”

“Really?” I eye him. “What charity?”

His lips thin for a moment.

“When Asher died… well, before he died, he was hospitalized for a bit. He was brain dead, but the paramedics got his heart started, and they kept him alive for a couple days.” He sips his wine, staring off into the night sky. “There were a ton of medical bills. His parents wouldn’t take any money from me, they wouldn’t even speak to me. I kept thinking how unfair it was, that… all of that happened. They lost their son, and they were still stuck with this huge bill.”

“So you’re paying people’s medical bills?” I asked, trying to understand.

“Not me, no. We’re funding a charity that works with the victims of pedestrian hit-and-runs. You know, no one takes the blame, so there’s no insurance to pay their bills.”

I nod, but a question burns in my mind.

“Why did his parents refuse to take money from you?” I ask. “That seems ridiculous.”

Rex actually flinches at my question.

“Well… Asher didn’t die in a normal car accident, you know.”

I glance at him, surprised. “What? What do you mean?”

“We were drag racing. Totally illegal,
beyond
stupid.” He pauses, wavering. “Asher didn’t think it was a good idea, but I kept telling how amazing it felt, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of taking a car’s ownership papers from some unlucky bloke…”

“You were
drag racing
?” I ask, stunned. “Rex, that’s awful. It’s so dangerous!”

“I don’t think you have to tell me that, do you?” he asked.

I flush. “Of course not, no.”

He glances at me, then tips up his wine glass before pouring himself another.

“Yeah, well. I basically talked Asher into it. I even got in the car with him as a passenger, to prove that it wasn’t a big deal. Then he spun out on a sharp turn, slammed into a telephone pole, and that was it.
Game over
.”

“Rex, I had no idea,” I say, laying my hand on his arm.

What am I supposed to say? I was thousands of miles away.

“Yeah, well. You weren’t here,” he says, echoing my thoughts perfectly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He looks at me, then looks away. I can see a tic pulsing in his jaw; he’s holding something back from me.

Well, it’s mutual, then. We both have a right to our secrets, I suppose.

“You’re angry with me,” I say.

“It was a long time ago. Let’s just drop it.”

Oh yeah, he’s still mad.

“Sometimes people have to make the best decision for themselves, make sure they’re taking care of their own futures,” I say, setting my wine glass down.

“Is that why you left my bed in the middle of the night and never spoke to me again?” he bites off.

I suck in a breath.

“That was part of it, yes.”

“That
what about us
stuff,
where will we be next year
, all that. It was some kind of test, right? And I failed?” he asks.

He’s still not looking at me, glaring off into the distance instead.

“Rex.”

He slides his gaze over to me.

“What, Kit?”

“I had a lot going on back then, more than you can know. Some of my leaving was because my future… our future, together… was so uncertain. But a lot of it was just… you know, my father died, I was leaving school. It was a weird time for me.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Rex…” I start again.

“You don’t get to tell me not to be angry,” he says, setting his glass on the table and turning to stare me down. “You’re the one who left.”

“And
you
couldn’t even tell me you wanted to stay together!” I say, my voice rising. “You were as worried about the Saville scandal as anyone, Rex. Don’t try to deny it.”

“I said we might have to date in secret,” he says, his tone flat.

“You said you were going to meet other girls! You were more worried about your stupid band than about whether we’d be together!” I hurl at him.

I realize that we’re only inches apart now. Rex seems to realize it at the same time, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

“Rex—” I say, but it’s too late.

His hand wraps around the back of my neck, his thumb brushing my jaw. He kisses me, hard and long.

I know it’s wrong. I know we can’t have sex, that I can’t give Rex what he wants.

And yet… I melt against him, sighing into his kiss. My lips part for him, our tongues clash and dance.

Rex grabs me and drags me close so I straddle his lap. My hands are in his hair, nails raking his neck and shoulders. We’re breathing hard, starting to grind against each other, our shared hunger combusting and threatening to burn us both alive.

He shocks me by standing up with me in his arms, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me inside, wine forgotten, and doesn’t stop until I land on his bed.

Whoa… this is moving pretty fast
, I think, but my body isn’t cooperating.

Rex is stripping his clothes and then mine, until we’re down to his boxer briefs and my white lace panties. He stops and looks down at me.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he says, seeming awed.

Me, I can only stare at him. He’s nothing but hewn muscle covered in intricate tattoos, every inch of him sculpted as if he’s made for sin. If he was irresistible to me five years ago, right now I’m just
lost
, looking at him.

Then Rex is on me, kissing me, cupping my breasts.

“Mmm, I missed these,” he says with a smirk as he takes one of my nipples in my mouth.

My back arches, my hips press against him, insistent. Hungry.

The feel of his tongue and teeth on my sensitive peak has me wild, out of my mind, my body so hot and tense that I think I might die from it. He rolls us so I’m on top of him, my knees squeezing his hips.

“God damn,” he says, pulling my face down to his so he can take my mouth again.

A little voice in the back of my head tells me I’m being unfair. We can’t do…
everything
.

“We can’t have intercourse,” I say when I manage to break the kiss.

Rex freezes for a moment, staring at me in confusion.

“Is that right?” he asks slowly, sliding a hand over my bare hip.

“Yes,” I say, biting my lip.

“Kitten, I don’t understand you,” he admits.

“We just… can’t. No real sex.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

“I bet I can make you sing a different tune,” he says.

“Rex…”

Then I’m on my back, and he’s kissing his way down my stomach, tugging my panties down my legs.

He’s been warned, is all I can think.

“Ach, that’s what I thought,” he says when he parts my thighs. “You’re so wet and ready for me, Kit.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he leans down and presses his lips to my clit. My clever words are forgotten, and I moan loudly instead.

Rex makes a kind of mmmmm sound against me and I nearly shoot off the bed, it feels so damn good. My fingers knot in his hair as his tongue does its magic, heating my blood and making my whole body tingle.

He’s incredible at this.

Before he can push me past the point of no return, I do the fair thing and push him away. I haven’t even seen a cock since his, and suddenly I don’t want to waste this moment.

I want to
taste
him.

“On your back,” I say, trying not to laugh at the way he practically rips his boxers in his enthusiasm getting them off.

He sprawls out on the bed, staring up at me boldly as he takes his cock in his hand and I have to try not to look shocked.

“Was it always so big?” I ask. “How did we ever make that work?”

When Rex laughs, his abs ripple. I lick my lips, and he goes somber again.

I take his cock in my hand, giving it a tentative stroke, appreciating how long and thick he is. I take to my work with gusto, using my tongue and mouth on him, working my hand over the base until he’s groaning and thrusting.