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‘I do not care what you think of my reputation.’ He tried to sound as cool as Khal, but it came out sounding more of a growl than anything else. ‘I’m not chasing after some stranger just because you think I need to be less boring.’
He’s right though. You know what happens when you deny yourself.
Yes, he did. But that only meant he had to try harder.
Augustine shrugged. ‘A woman like that isn’t going home alone tonight, but I suppose it’s your choice. If you don’t want her, someone else will.’
Galen knew what his friend was doing, the manipulative bastard. ‘I don’t care,’ he said.
‘Do you not?’ Augustine raised a brow and glanced over Galen’s shoulder at Khalil. ‘What about you, Khal? Maybe for yourself?’
The Sheikh, whose mere word in Al Da’Ira was law, looked thoughtful. ‘She is...exquisite. Maybe I could—’
‘No,’ Galen said for the third time. ‘Not you as well.’
Khalil only gazed blandly back, his expression inscrutable.
His friends meant well, Galen knew that, but there were reasons he had to behave with the utmost discretion wherever he went. Kostas, his uncle, watched him, waiting for one slip, and while Galen had successfully managed him the past ten years since he’d been crowned, Leo’s birth had complicated things, making Kostas even more suspicious than he already was.
Kostas would love to see him have to abdicate and take the throne for himself.
Except Galen would never allow that to happen. It was why he couldn’t let go his control over his baser appetites, not even for a moment. He couldn’t give Kostas any reason to question him.
The safety of his country depended on it.
But there are no reporters here. No one will tell. And you have not been with a woman in so long. Not since—
Ah, but he wasn’t going to think of that night when his son was conceived. Where he’d put at risk everything, including his throne, for passion with a nameless woman at a masquerade ball of all things.
He couldn’t allow it to happen again, no matter how hungry his body was.
The woman in silver was exquisite, as Khalil had said, but he wasn’t going to go chasing after her. He had a million things to do, a king always did, but one of the things on his list was finding himself a wife. The kings of Kalithera always chose someone from the aristocracy, of a good family since family was important, and he already had a list of candidates. He hoped he’d have chemistry with at least one of them, which would mean he could sate his hunger with her, not some nameless stranger in a nightclub.
‘Fine,’ Augustine said in a long-suffering tone. ‘If you want to deny yourself then on your head be it. But I’m certainly not going to.’
No, but then Augustine wouldn’t. He never denied himself anything.
Galen stepped away from the rail. ‘Amuse yourself however you like, gentlemen. I have some more work to do tonight.’
Augustine only shook his head, while Khalil gave him a long, expressionless look that Galen knew full well was Khal trying to understand what he was up to.
Well, the answer to that was nothing. He’d had enough of this club, and he was leaving, the woman in silver be damned.
Striding along the catwalk, he came to the stairs and descended into the crowds. His security detail shifted from the various discreet places where they’d been waiting, ready to come with him. Augustine and Khalil hadn’t brought theirs tonight, but Galen always had his attend. Kostas would have noticed if he’d left them behind and started asking questions as to why, and Galen didn’t want him asking those questions. Since Leo had arrived on the scene, he’d had to be extra cautious. His security were all intensely loyal to him and no man amongst them would have let slip anything, but he couldn’t be too careful. If nothing else, last year’s catastrophe had proved that.
The spotlights pulsed as he headed towards the exit and a flash of silver caught his eye. He stopped, searching instinctively for the location of that flash.
There she was, standing against a wall in the darkest part of the club, the strobing lights catching the glitter of her dress. It moulded to her figure like molten silver, outlining the most delicious curves he’d ever seen. Full breasts, a neat waist, generous hips...
His fingers itched. He wanted to touch her, run his hands over her, slip the delicate chains holding up that dress off her shoulders and watch as the fabric fell down to reveal all those luscious curves.
But no. Those were old habits. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to indulge himself tonight, no matter what Augustine thought. And while she was certainly lovely, this woman wasn’t going to make him change his mind no matter how delicious she was.
Yet he didn’t move, slowly becoming aware that the woman wasn’t alone. A man was with her, leaning over her, and from out of nowhere came a short, sharp burst of territorial anger.
She is your prey tonight.
Prey? Ridiculous. His days of prowling through the clubs purely for the thrill of the chase and the adrenaline rush of a one-night stand were over, as were the forbidden parties that sometimes turned into orgies and the stupid, drunken stunts he, Khal and Augustine used to pull, causing the kind of mayhem that only three young men with too much money and far too much arrogance could. At least until his father had had a stroke, and he’d been called back to Kalithera, and he’d had to put all of that behind him.
