Page 46 of Royal Desire

Do I want to go there?

That’s the question of the decade...

“I appreciate the information and the warning. Send me the bill.”

He pauses before he presses me for more. “Wait. That’s it?”

“Fine, I’ll tip you for the quick turnaround.”

“That’s not what I meant. What do you intend to do?”

“You want to know my intentions? Are you standing in for her old man? Who, by the way, has never been in her life, so don’t go looking for him. Ruby and I are proof there’s more than one way to have an asshole of a father.”

“I want to know if you’re going to dive in. If so, I can help.”

“So you can add that to my bill?”

Eli doesn’t even chuckle this time. It’s a straight-up laugh. “No. I’d do this for shits and giggles. Takes me back to my FBI days. This is the fun stuff.”

“Fun,” I echo on a mutter. “Anything I can do for your enjoyment, I’m here for you. I’ll let you know.”

“Damn, you’re wound tight. I have a feeling I know what you’re going to do. I’ll check back in a day or two. Just remember, I’ve got your back.”

My sarcasm rears its ugly head, but better that than the asshole. “I have clients to tend to, but I’ll pass you a note in class in case anything goes down on the playground after school.”

“Now I’m definitely in. We’ll talk soon.”

I don’t say goodbye and disconnect the call when the bartender gets my attention. “What can I get you, sir?”

“Club soda with a lime. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“Got it. No pleasure for you.”

If anything sums up my life, it’s that. I take my non-alcoholic beverage of choice and do my thing—mingle and small talk. Hell, if there were babies here, I’d kiss them just like I’m kissing ass left and right. This goes on until Devon steps up to the mic to introduce the topic that plagues me day and night.

Devon talks about the Sinclair siblings and dubs them the iconic duo of Winslet.

That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. If there were ever an iconic duo, it’s Ruby and me.

Blake enters first and makes a dramatic gesture for his sister’s grand entrance.

Fuck.

It doesn’t matter how dark it is in the lounge, her eyes shine like jewels through the moody room. They even match her icy blue dress. The hem is high—closer to her ass than her knees. It hugs every curve of her body. She does a quick spin as she dazzles my clients with a fuck-me smirk, and the back of her dress drapes so low, I wonder how she’s going to keep her ass in it when she moves.

She takes the mic and doesn’t greet the audience or thank yours truly for the amazing set list I provided her. She turns and gives Blake the cue. He hits the keys.

And that he does.

After a quick eight count, Ruby starts in.

Adele, Rolling in the Deep.

Not a song I approved for the night, but fuck, I feel every word she belts in my soul.

Sultry.

Deep.