Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(64)
“Hey, guys!” she says brightly, as Jax and Christian pound each other on the back in greeting. The two of them together is a study in contrasts. Jax is tall, dark, and handsome times a thousand, the sex appeal just radiating off of him, whereas Christian is his perfect foil, blond, blue-eyed and so All-American. But only one of them is on the market now. There are two other women at the table Catherine seems to know fairly well, and I take the opportunity to fall in with their chatter as Jax and Christian whisper to each other a few steps away from the table.
I understand what Jax sees in Cate.
She lights up the goddamned room.
They’re only there for a few minutes before Jax breaks away from Christian, coming back to the table where he slips his arms snuggly around Cate’s waist. “We’d join you, but it’s date night,” he says, cobalt eyes glowing.
Cate blushes and gives a little wave, the two of them disappearing quickly into the crowd.
I have to get out of here.
Rick doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve mentally checked out.
“Kayaking,” he says.
“What?” I say, my forehead wrinkling. What the hell is this strange little man talking about now?
“That’s one of my hobbies.”
“Oh,” I say lamely, picking up my drink and taking another sip. “Yeah, kayaking is good.”
“Don’t be so shy, Jess!” Christian’s voice booms across the table. “Tell the man about your hobbies. I know you have some.”
“I know you have one, Chris,” I shoot back, smiling at him. “It’s something you can do all by yourself, once your date goes home…”
“My dates never want to go home,” he says, wrapping his arm tightly around his current flavor of the week. She cuddles into him, eyes shining with awe and delight.
“Oh, but they always do,” I tease. “And then, when you’re all alone in that fancy apartment of yours, your hobby is all you can think about…”
Christian raises one hand in the air. “Is that so bad? Huh? Is that so bad, Jess?”
How is it possible that I’m getting more banter out of my old friend Chris than the date he set me up with who he swore was going to be interesting? At the very least, he was supposed to be “smoking hot.”
We laugh along with the rest of the table, but my mind has already wandered, over to where Jax and Cate are seated at one of the best tables in the place, a two-person affair on the second tier of seating. Jax is leaning toward her across the table, his hand on hers, saying something that must be amusing because she smiles and laughs, her face lit with love.
I want that. How do I get that?
Not by chatting awkwardly with Rick, that’s for damn sure.
Inside of ten minutes, I’ve worked up an excuse to leave and slipped out the back entrance, heading off alone into the night.
Chapter 2
Alec
My father slams his fist down onto the hardwood table in the private council chamber situated behind the throne room, his cheeks burning beet red with frustration.
“Damn it, Alexander, get your head out of your ass and look around for once.”
He’d never use this kind of language in public, but I’ve pissed him off enough that he’ll say it to me freely behind closed doors.
“I’m seeing perfectly,” I spit back at him, so angry that what little self-control I’ve built up over the years is beginning to slip away. “You’re not going to barter my time like I’m some f*cking princess from the sixteenth century.”
His eyes flash in fury at my language, but it’s not like his mouth has been pristine.
My older brother—perfect in every possible way—chooses this moment to interject. “It’s a few dates, Alec. You’re blowing this completely out of proportion.”
“Is there something I’m missing, Marcus? Maybe you can explain it again so we can be absolutely certain that your idiot brother Alec understands.”
Marcus, infinitely calm and forever infuriating me, holds up his hands. “There’s no need to be so volatile—”
“I just don’t see,” I scowl, my voice remaining deadly calm, “how the two of you can decide to set me up with not one but a series of dates for political gain. What’s the end game? That I marry the girl so you can trade intelligence information with her father at the wedding brunch? I don’t think so.”
My father, the reigning king of Saintland—a job that, if I’m being completely honest, has aged him thirty years since he took the throne a decade ago—lets out an exasperated sigh.
“We’re simply trying to leverage our available assets to make international connections.”
“Oh, so I’m an asset now.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“The language couldn’t have been plainer.”
“Your brother—”
“My brother,” I say, jabbing a finger toward Marcus, “has had an incredible amount of control over his personal life, despite being heir to the throne. How do you explain that, your majesty?”
Marcus looks at the ground, saying nothing. My father cuts his eyes across to him, then looks back to me.
“Your brother has always had the interests of Saintland at heart.”