Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(92)

Jessica has put herself in a vulnerable position by coming to Saintland.

She put herself in a vulnerable position every time we’re together in bed, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

It turns out she’s a tigress who knows when a little submission will sweeten the deal.

As I slip out the back entrance of the Northern Crown, I catch a glimpse of Nate at the wheel of an unmarked town car, idling across the alley. He’s wearing dark glasses and clutching a paper cup from a nearby coffee shop.

I pull open the back door and slide into the back seat.

“Good morning, Nate,” I say jovially. He looks back at me in the rearview mirror, lifting his glasses and shooting me an irritated glance through narrowed eyes.

“For once, couldn’t you bring Ms. Reeves back to your rooms at the palace? I wouldn’t have to be up so goddamn early.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such language. No, not quite yet, but if you’d be so kind as to take me there…”

Nate lets out a tired laugh and steers the car away from the curb.

At the palace, Nate lets me out at the private entrance located on the east side of the palace. It’s still so early that the only people around are the cleaning staff, so I’m virtually unnoticed as I head up the stairs to my rooms. Even Phillip doesn’t arrive until around nine, so I have plenty of time to wash off the sweat and sex from last night.

Not that I really want to, but it’s unseemly for a prince to go around smelling like he just rolled out of bed.

I stand in the shower for a full thirty minutes, letting the steaming water run down over my body and thinking about Jessica.

The bond we have, new or not, is reflected by our relationship in the bedroom. That’s not all we are together, or even all we can be together, but I know for certain that she is the only one with whom I want to explore having a future.

What sealed the deal was hearing her confess that she loved me last night.

When I think about it now, my heart thunders in my chest and I almost feel light-headed.

It’s one thing to f*ck a woman so well that she never wants another man.

It’s another to know that her heart is yours and yours alone.

No one on earth will ever lay hands on her again. Except me.

Just as I belong to her, she belongs to me.

The only obstacle left is straightening things out with my father and Marcus. I can’t understand why they’re so adamant about sending her back to the United States. Marcus has had more than a few relationships with women from neighboring countries. It’s not as if there’s a precedent for only dating Saintland women, and I can hardly be blamed for the fact that Marcus is a daddy’s boy who will do anything he can to please my father, up to and including becoming involved with women who can bolster the Caldwell reign.

Well, Marcus will have to step aside on this one because I’m not backing down.

I’m also not going to let this situation get the best of me. With things between Jessica and me on such solid ground, I finally feel able to confront them without the fear of my anger bubbling over.

I step out of the shower feeling fresh and confident. In the walk-in closet, Phillip has already sorted out several outfit choices for the day. I roll my eyes. That man is almost too dedicated to his job. I choose a suit with a royal blue shirt and a neutral-colored tie. I won’t even antagonize my father by choosing a too-bold wardrobe. Not today.

Next step? Breakfast.

I order the full complement, and it arrives fifteen minutes later, piping hot on silver trays.

I linger over the food at the breakfast table, which is conveniently located in a nook with picture windows overlooking the garden.

Today I’m going to take my time.

I’ll go down to my father’s council chambers first thing so that we can clear the air and decide jointly on the best way to move forward.

No more shouting. No more accidental media sensations.

Then, I’ll go about fulfilling my schedule for the day. When those things are completed, I’ll be able to get back to Jessica and tell her what our immediate future holds. New confidence swells in my chest. Now that my mind is completely clear, I’ll be able to deal with Marcus and my father diplomatically and maturely, in a manner that guarantees my success.

Breakfast finished, I toss the napkin down onto the tray and stand up, brushing a few stray crumbs from my jacket.

I’m heading toward the door, shoulders back, chin up and feeling optimistic, when there’s a frantic knocking at the door.

My hand is almost touching the knob when it bursts open. It’s Phillip, white-faced, and he startles as he about plows into me.

“Your highness,” he gasps, putting a hand to his chest. “I’m so sorry—.”

“It’s all right,” I say, waving his apology away. “I’m off for a meeting with my father. When I come back, be ready to go over the day’s—.”

For the first time I can remember, Phillip interrupts me, his voice shaking.

“No, your highness. It’s not that. I’ve come—I’ve come to tell you—.”

I turn to face him, irritation rising in my chest. Could he possibly waste any more of my time? This level of calm and confidence isn’t guaranteed to last forever.

“Just tell me, Phillip,” I say, trying not to let my aggravation show as he gasps and sputters, his face still ashen. “Spit it out.”