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“You will upset the designer. She’ll complain.”
“Trust me, it will all work out for the best. I’m more than happy to work with her and create the perfect home for us. My training at Royal Resorts has instilled in me the golden rule of never settling for anything that was merely adequate. Need I remind you that I was the one who wrote that insightful and thoroughly accurate review of the Laguna Beach resort.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “What was the title of that article? I can’t remember. I must still be mentally scarred by the lack of towels and duvets.”
His deep chuckle reverberated between them. It went straight to Vivian’s heart. Bryce trusted her instincts. It was one of the many reasons why she loved him. And why she held such hope for them sharing a bright future together.
“Cheeky minx. How about we meet at our new home at seven thirty for a bout of naked wrestling? You can point out any areas of my technique where you see room for improvement.”
Vivian snorted. “I see what you did there. ‘Room for Improvement.’ Never let it be said I would settle for anything less than the best. And you Bryce Royal are an exceptional man. I love you. I don’t think there is a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too. So does that mean I can have the Royal Resorts private jet back?”
“Not a chance.”
Bonus VIP members story.
When Vivian travels to Italy to file her last review for her old magazine, a wicked billionaire can’t reist the urge to secretly follow her…
For your free copy ofAn Italian Villa Escapejoin the VIP Suite atPlanet Billionaire.
BONUS EPILOGUE
These men might be his father and his elder brother, but they still had the power to fire him. To push him out of Royal Resorts, and into the cold. Jordan couldn’t begin to conceive of a life outside the family firm. He was Jordan Royal. All Royal family members worked in some capacity at the House of Royal.
When Camille started up her own fashion label her father kicked her out the house. Don’t forget about her.
Camille might be doing well, but she had talent. Jordan had long feared his skills began and ended in the bedroom.
And even then, they hadn’t been enough to secure the heart of the woman he had loved and lost. In the months following their bitter, secret split, he had blundered through his job at the unfinished resort lost in a regret-filled haze.
The Laguna Beach resort project, the one he had fought so hard to win, had turned into his worst nightmare. He’d stuffed up with his father’s pet project. With the Platinum Collection resort that was meant to see the first US located Royal Resorts feature in the top one hundred resorts in the world.
What he had delivered had become the laughing stock of the hotel and resort industry. Who doesn’t order enough linen for a fucking hotel? Answer. Jordan Royal. He could just see that as being a question on some nightmarish game show.
He hadn’t slept. The email from Bryce asking him to come to his office for a meeting this morning had seen Jordan leave his luxurious apartment last night and take a long ride on the New York subway. Unlike the rest of his siblings, he actually owned a metro card. Travelling around the city in an old brown overcoat and baggy sweat pants gave him the sort of anonymity that a Lincoln town car and a sharp cut suit couldn’t deliver.
She had taught him that trick. It was her way to escape from the limelight. From the paparazzi and the blinding flash of cameras.
He'd arrived early for the meeting, hoping to get whatever was about to happen over and done with then made a hasty exit. The family hideaway three hours out of New York was where he would go to lick his wounds.
But he’d been forced to wait. To pace back and forth across the executive reception area. Janice’s kind attempts hadn’t had the desired effect. He was too old, too jaded for her motherly advice to reach him.
He’d gone downstairs hoping to take a walk around the block, but the chilly sleet falling outside had quickly put paid to that notion. Late January in New York had become Jordan’s private bitterly cold version of hell.
I wish I was back in California. At least the sun shines there. And it’s on the other side of the country. Far away from everyone.
“The Laguna Beach resort is in good hands,” he muttered, then swore under his breath.
He shouldn’t start with that line. It was Bryce who had sourced and hired the new resort manager for California. His older brother had shortlisted the three best candidates, interviewed them all via Zoom, then flown out to the West Coast to make the final decision. Bryce had even been the one to decide that Austin Brown was actually a decent assistant manager and should stay on.
But under a capable resort manager.
The instant the door of his brother’s office opened, Jordan made a beeline for it. Red-headed Sheila, barely had time to get out of his way as he stormed past. He would find her later and apologize. His former executive assistant had been one of the many team members based in New York working demanding hours to get Laguna Beach back in line, ready for its official, long delayed, opening in the Spring. If by some miracle he survived today, there was a long list of people he intended to seek out and personally thank.
Bryce and Edward were stacking papers and chatting as Jordan strode into the room. His heart sank as he took in the layout of the meeting space. The table had been arranged with them seated on one side, and their visitor on the other.
“Close the door will you please, Jordan,” asked Edward.
Keep your temper. No matter what happens do not start shouting.
