He considered my words, then gave a slight nod, conceding the point. “Maybe a bit of both. But either way, you survive it. And sometimes,” he added, his gaze drifting off, “you even find something real in the midst of all the fantasy. Just not always where or how you expect it.”
“Thanks, Carter,” I said sincerely. “I’ll remember that.”
As I entered my bedroom and caught sight of the robe I'd discarded earlier, I couldn't help but lift it to my face, breathing in deeply. Bergamot and cedar, with that indefinable note that was just him. My chest ached with a longing so acute it was almost physical.
In less than twenty-four hours, he'd be gone. Back to Avaline, probably flying first class or on some private jet with real silverware and champagne that cost more than my first car. By this time tomorrow, he'd be halfway across the Atlantic, while I'd be in the Dark Room with strangers who wouldn't know my name.
A month from now, would he remember me at all?
With a heavy sigh, I dropped the robe and headed for a quick shower to wash off the chlorine from the pool. The hot water poundedagainst my shoulders, rinsing away the afternoon but not the memories of Ricard’s touch, his voice, the way he’d looked at me this morning as if memorizing my features.
Tomorrow’s Dark Room assignment might be just what I needed. No names, no faces, no emotional entanglements. Just bodies seeking pleasure in the dark.
That's what professionals did, right? And according to my roommates, that's what I was now. A professional. End of story.
Chapter 13
Ricard
The golf ball soared through the air in a perfect arc, a tiny white speck against the vast Texas sky before disappearing beyond a rise in the fairway. I followed its trajectory with satisfaction, my body still holding the follow-through position of my swing.
“Magnifique!” I murmured to myself, pleased with the clean contact and distance.
“Damn fine shot, Your Grace,” Senator Harrington drawled from behind me, his Southern accent thick with appreciation. “You been holdin' out on us.”
I turned, unable to suppress a smile at the compliment. “My father insisted I learn,” I explained, stepping aside for the next player. “Said it was essential for diplomacy. 'More business is conducted on the golf course than in any boardroom,' he used to tell me.”
Julius, resplendent in a salmon-colored polo that complemented his bronze skin perfectly, chuckled as he took his place at the tee. “Your father is a wise man,” he said, adjusting his stance. “Though I suspect diplomacy wasn't the only thing on his mind when he had you practice your swing.”
The golf ball launched from Julius's club, streaking through the air beyond where mine had landed. The European nobleman's natural athletic grace shone through his every movement, a man withbloodlines tracing back through centuries of aristocracy, yet who maintained a physical discipline that privilege hadn't diminished.
Dharma adjusted his designer glasses, the only concession to his tech background in an otherwise perfectly curated country club appearance. Despite his self-deprecating humor, he moved with the confidence of a man whose net worth exceeded the GDP of several small nations. His company was pioneering algorithms that might revolutionize cryptography, a fact that made him both valuable to know and potentially dangerous to cross.
“Now, Dharma,” Senator Harrington drawled, his Southern accent thickening performatively, “don't you start with that humble routine. I've seen the putting green you had installed on your office roof in Jakarta.” The senator's folksy manner belied the sharp political mind beneath. A man who had survived six terms in Washington by appearing more simple than he was. His committee positions on defense and intelligence made him a pivotal figure in American security policy.
We all laughed, the camaraderie between us easy and unforced. It was strange, I reflected, how quickly bonds could form in a place like Dove Canyon Ranch. In diplomatic settings, I would have approached these men with carefully prepared briefs, strategic talking points, and the constant awareness of potential pitfalls. Here, as we climbed into our golf carts to pursue our balls, I genuinely enjoyed their company.
Julius paired with Dharma in one cart, leaving me with the Senator. As we pulled away, Harrington leaned over. “Between us, Your Grace, I've been wanting to discuss the Avaline naval base expansion. Unofficial, of course. Just two golfers chatting.”
Perhaps not so free from diplomacy after all. I smiled politely, shifting into the familiar stance of careful neutrality. But even this feltdifferent from similar conversations back home—less formal, more human.
“I must say,” Senator Harrington commented as we walked toward the next green, “this place exceeds all expectations. And I've had some high expectations in my time.”
“Vincent does nothing by halves,” Julius agreed as he walked beside me. “I've been coming here for years, and the quality only improves. The staff, the amenities, the discretion—all impeccable.”
“And the companions,” Dharma added with a wolfish grin. “Let's not forget the companions.”
A knowing chuckle rippled through our group. “Indeed,” I managed, keeping my tone light. “The companions are... exceptional.”
Julius cast a sidelong glance my way. “This is the duke's first visit to The Ranch,” he informed the others, “and he's been so enamored of one particular companion that he's extended his stay by a week.”
Senator Harrington whistled low and nudged me with his elbow. “Now that's what I call a royal endorsement. He must be quite the experience to warrant changing your schedule.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “But just one? Don't forget to sample the whole buffet, Your Grace. They're all tasty in their own way.”
My cheeks flushed at their comments. “I assure you, I don't feel slighted in any way. These past few days have been worth every ducet.”
“What the Senator is trying to say,” Julius interrupted, “is that while your taste is impeccable, you might be missing out on the full Dove Canyon experience. There's a whole world of pleasure available here beyond any single companion, no matter how captivating.”
I selected a club from my bag and approached my ball, trying to focus on the shot rather than the conflicting emotions Julius's words had stirred. While I'd successfully extended my stay and secured another appointment with Theo for tomorrow afternoon, part of me stillwrestled with doubt. The twenty-four hours between our encounters suddenly seemed interminable.
