Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(67)

I didn’t look up from my phone, just slid over politely.

“Hey.”

At the sound of his voice, I started and he burst out laughing, a rare slip from the solemn coat of professionalism he wears like a bulletproof vest these days.

“What the hell, man?”

“You really thought you were going to flee the country by yourself, your highness?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

I slumped in my seat and ran my fingers mindlessly through my hair. “I guess not, you *.”

He pretended to look offended. “Such language from a member of the royal family.”

“There’s no way I can convince you to let this one slide?”

“Not a chance.”





By the time we landed in New York, I had a plan. We flagged down the first cab in line outside the airport departure doors, which turned out to be driven by a born-and-bred New Yorker with a death wish. As we careened through the traffic, listening to him blare his horn and shout a never-ending stream of expletives at other drivers on the road and a few brave pedestrians who dared to dash across the street in front of him, I watched Nate’s shoulders rise closer and closer to his ears. We pulled up to the Four Seasons just in time to avoid experiencing a classic Nate boil-over outburst at the driver.

So he wasn’t very happy when I walked with him into the lobby and then announced that I wouldn’t be staying.

“What?” he growled in a low voice, his teeth gritted, eyes narrowed.

“I rented a place nearby. It’s only a couple of blocks away. Give me a break, Nate. I’ve been under lock and key for more than twenty years at this point. I need some space.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight line and hawkishly scanned the lobby with his eyes, a habit he couldn’t break even during the middle of an argument. “There’s no way, your highness.” He exaggerated his last two words like I could possibly need a reminder about my station in life. “There’s going to be hell to pay when we return as it is, and—”

I stepped closer to him, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll deal with my father when we get back. For now, just let me do what I came here to do.” I injected just a hint of my full authority as a member of Saintland’s royal family, a card I don’t play often with Nate. Sometimes I slip into that mode without realizing it, but after a decade plus of schoolboy hijinks with Nate in the books, it’s not something I want to get used to. With him, at least.

He backed down a little, his jaw working as he considered his options. A tinge of guilt shot through me. Nate has been a loyal friend to me for many, many years, and making him choose between the oath he took to Saintland and being my best friend was a dick move.

My chest tightened as he let the silence hang between us. He was the only one who could blow my cover to my father before my little getaway even got started. I had just resigned myself to booking a suite in the hotel when he spoke, jabbing his index finger at the center of my chest.

“You’ll check in every day with me. In person.”

“Agreed!” I consented quickly, holding both my hands up. “Agreed. I’ll be here every day to check in with you until we leave.”

“Not more than two weeks.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that as a prince of Saintland I would be making the decisions, but at the last moment thought better of it. We could cross that bridge when we came to it.

“Anything else, best friend of mine?” I said, giving him a charming grin.

He scowled in return. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”





My spirits are high when I unlock the door to my rented apartment and take a glance around. It’s spotlessly clean with modern furniture, chrome and white as far as the eye can see. This could be any wealthy man’s apartment. I’m sure the women I bring back here over the course of this vacation will think it suits me perfectly.

I’m truly alone for the first time in years, and I flop down on the plush leather sofa, stretching my arms above my head, relishing it.

For about a minute.

Then it starts to make me feel a little on edge.

I brush the thought away. I’ve served my mandatory year in the volunteer corps like everyone else in Saintland. I know how to be alone, for God’s sake.

Anyway, I came here for two reasons. I’ve achieved one of them so far.

To get started on the second, I pull my phone from my pocket and open the most popular hookup app in the world. I used the free Wi-Fi on the flight over to create a profile that wouldn’t give away any politically sensitive details, anything that might hint at my true identity. It went live while I was still over the Atlantic.

I haven’t had the app open thirty seconds when it pings and my heart leaps with anticipation.

It positively pounds when I click on the message button and see the profile picture of the woman who has summoned me for a date tonight.

She’s a goddamn knockout. Auburn hair. Full lips. Fuck-me eyes.

Hello, New York.





Chapter 5

Jessica





I stand at the bar at the back of the Bystander and force myself not to sway from side to side as I wait.

I got here too early.

We planned our meet-up in a series of minimalist texts, like too many words would f*ck things up. Who knows? Maybe they would.