Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

“Jessica.” With a grin, Claire slips out the door, pulling it quietly shut behind her.

Jessica rises to her feet and puts her arms around my neck, kissing me softly. The tension goes out of my shoulders at her touch, and after a moment she pulls back to look into my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is it so obvious?” I ask, giving her a half-smile meant to throw her off the trail leading to my irritation with my father and brother.

“Yes,” she says, her expression serious.

For a long, silent moment, I search for the words to describe the situation with my father and brother, but there’s no way I can say it without further complicating things.

It’s then that I decide, once and for all, that this entire thing is bordering on the absurd. I am the second prince of Saintland. I will never be the king. I will represent the royal family, yes, but it’s my brother who will reign. There is no reason why I can’t have a private life of my own choosing.

There’s no reason why I can’t build that life with Jessica.

“You know, it’s nothing,” I say to her, leaning down to kiss the hollow between her shoulder and collarbone. “Now that I’m with you, nothing can be wrong. It’s all very right.”

“If you say so,” she says, a wicked gleam twinkling in her eyes.

That’s my cue.





Chapter 19

Jessica





I’m almost positive that Alec blew off his entire afternoon schedule in exchange for a romp in bed with me. Something about it seems risky—isn’t he a prince? Doesn’t he have obligations? I quickly erase those thoughts as his hands caress my breasts, embrace my waist, and tease the folds between my legs.

After all, I’m the one who’s always been an advocate of doing what feels right.

Being with him feels so right.

I just wish that being here, in Saintland, felt as perfect as driving through the countryside surrounding Sainthall.

But even when Alec masterfully works my body into an orgasm or three, something continues to nag at me.

What is causing the tension lines around his eyes?

When we were together in New York, he never seemed to worry about anything. He was free as a bird. The only constraints were the ones I put on the two of us, and now, looking back, I wish I hadn’t done that.

As Nate drives us through the streets of the city while the sun fades in a flush of brazen red and orange hues into the landscape for the night, I consider how best to broach this subject with him. It’s not that I’m having a bad time—far from it.

Maybe it’s just the weight of his responsibilities now that he has returned to the kingdom.

I have no idea what it’s like to be a prince. It’s probably much more fun in my imagination than it is in real-life.

I take hold of his hand and scoot closer to him, the fine fabric of my dress gliding easily across the leather seats. When we were finished in bed—well, when we took a break in bed, I doubt we’ll ever truly be finished—Alec summoned my team together. They came rolling in as soon as I stepped out of the shower.

“Come in, come in,” he said, flashing his perfect smile. Soon the suite was filled with a playful banter as they went to work on adorning me for our dinner date.

He’s taking me to one of his favorite places—the Knight’s Cap. The dress code isn’t quite as stringent as the one at the Diamond Circle, but the dress I chose from the racks is still elegant and regal. I feel very Kate Middleton.

Once we’re seated at a private table overlooking the canal and our first glasses of wine have been poured, I look across the table to admire the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“So,” I say, pausing to take a sip of my wine. “Are you planning to tell me what’s making you so tense?”

He laughs, leaning toward me. “How could I be tense after the afternoon we just had?”

I can’t help but grin back at him. “You’ve just been awfully busy since we landed here, and sometimes there’s a strained look in your eyes…”

Alec sighs a little, the light in his eyes dimming. “We’ve come to that crossing, haven’t we?”

“I did tell you about Michael. Trust me, I only talk about that when absolutely necessary.”

“All right. Fine. The truth is…” He looks down into his wine as he swirls it absentmindedly in his glass before drawing a long sip. “The truth is that my father isn’t very pleased with what I’ve done.”

“Going to New York?”