Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

B raxton

Vivid images.

Soft skin.

A warm, wet pussy.

As I opened my eyes, I was shocked at the amount of light streaming into the oversized window over my bed. I usually woke either before or just after the sun had peeked through the horizon. At least for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wore a smile instead of a scowl.

That was because of business, the constant issues that always arose, even at an exclusive club. I scrubbed my face, realizing it had been at least two days since I’d shaved. Yet another unlike me moment. How many had occurred?

The night had been incredible and I allowed my mind to process the savage intensity of our sexual escapades. I’d lost count how many times I’d taken her, but I planned on doing it again this morning. Maybe I would make good on my promise of keeping her locked away. Chuckling, I finally turned my head, only slightly surprised she hadn’t remained in bed by my side.

Jasmine was certainly highly independent. Besides, the bathroom light was on. I shifted in the covers, enjoying the moment of relaxation for a full minute longer before tossing back the covers. As I planted my feet onto the floor, I was fascinated by the fact every muscle was aching as if I’d been involved in a four-hour marathon.

In a sense, I had. There was nothing like several rounds of wild, passionate sex to burn calories.

I slowly moved to the bathroom, pushing open the partially closed door. She wasn’t inside, the only evidence she had been a still damp washcloth placed carefully across one of the towel racks. Why did I have a feeling that she’d attempted to remove our combined scent of sex?

A strange feeling shifted through me and I turned around, taking long strides through the suite.

Just like I’d suspected, she’d disappeared. I moved to the phone meant to contact the front desk, pressing the three buttons.

“Yes, Mr. Royal. What can I do for you?” the young girl asked.

“Can you check to see if Jasmine Sinclair is still registered in the resort? Wait. She was listed as Jane Smith.” Why did I have a feeling she’d fled, using her feminine wiles to do so? Granted, I hadn’t put a lockdown on her ability to leave. Then again, I honestly hadn’t thought she’d run after the night we’d shared.

“Certainly, sir.”

I heard her nails clicking on the keyboard as I rubbed my eyes. The crazy thing was that I’d had a damn good time, the best I’d experienced in years.

“I’m sorry, sir. Ms. Smith checked out very early this morning.”

Fuck. Perhaps I should have guessed. For all her brave actions, and her insolence that seemed to be her signature, I’d sensed a vulnerable woman under the charade.

“Did she take a plane out already?”

“From the notes, it appears she grabbed the last seat on a flight to Miami.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She’d escaped. It was also the one Steve Plunkett was supposed to be on. Was that coincidental? The question crossed my mind.

“Thank you, Angel.”

“Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“Not a thing.” I hung up the phone and hissed. The fact she’d walked away from me meant she had more to hide. The question remained.

Would I attempt to find her? Or maybe a better question was—should I?

The woman was beautiful, beguiling in every way, but I had no business fucking her. Everything about her reeked of danger.

Not that I’d ever shied away from that. I laughed softly, my mind filled with lurid thoughts, which kept my cock aching.

As I headed back to the bathroom for a shower, my mind remained conflicted.

Yet the taste of her I had a feeling would remain for some time to come.

Perhaps our paths would cross again.

Jasmine

While Australia was my home, I adored America.

The sights.

The sounds.

The remarkable cities from coast to coast, both big and small.

And the food. Gah, the food was to die for. Being required to spend an entire year in Washington, DC could be tough on the waistline.

Unless I indulged in the same kinky acts I’d enjoyed three nights before with Braxton.

I had to stop thinking about him.

It was odd that I was twenty-seven years old and my parents still expected me to remain in the mansion they’d been provided. Hell, no. I’d already primed my resume, my two degrees in business administration and marketing with a minor in accounting hopefully sought after by employees. Dear old Daddy had wanted me to be an attorney but the thought made me sick. Yet here I was, doing my best to sneak out of the massive estate without my bodyguard noticing.

I liked Dugger Abbott. He was big and strong, considered eye candy to just about every woman I’d met in the last ten years, but he’d been in my father’s employ for at least twelve years. He’d seen me go from a gangly, very awkward teenager to a wild child, as my father liked to call me.

The truth was I’d sowed my oats, including heading to the Royal Players Club, but after the initial pass through of duties, I would mostly be off the hook with my father and his demands.

Mostly was the key word.

Right now, I didn’t want to spend another day arguing with them, both my parents berating me for skipping out as soon as they’d arrived in the country.

Sans Dugger.

Of course, the only person who knew where I’d gone was my American bestie, my roommate in college. Ashton Parker came from American royalty, or so her parents liked to believe, a girl just as spunky as I was.

We were yin and yang but caused a little too much trouble when glued together.

However, it was past time to grow up and start a life.

I’d already arranged to meet her at a little lunch spot far removed from anywhere my father thought I would go. The reporters had been all over my parents’ arrival but given my absence, I’d avoided most of the photographs.

Not that a smart reporter couldn’t search the internet and find out exactly what I looked like, but he or she would need to be tenacious and believe there was a story behind the scenes. Since the graduation stint at twenty-two when Ashton and I had narrowly avoided getting arrested for prostitution of all stupid things, I’d laid low.

Very low.

Until a week before, when I’d made an impetuous decision to head to a mysterious Caribbean island. Which at this moment shocked even me. I was certainly impetuous but what in God’s name had prompted me to spend thousands of dollars simply to head to a private island? Had I really wanted to make a point with my father, showing him my personal life didn’t belong to him? The only reason I’d agreed to move temporarily to Washington, DC was to return to the country I adored so I could establish the rest of my life.

The trip to the island now seemed ridiculous.

At least I’d met the most gorgeous man alive.

Then I’d fled like a scaredy cat. Boy, I was truly batting a thousand at this point, acting more like a teenager than a grown woman. No, back to real life.

Whatever the hell that meant.

Sighing, I remembered that I had committed to handling an event on my own, a charity casino night for a pet rescue organization. Now that was something I could get behind. I adored animals. I’d always wanted to open a sanctuary for unwanted fur babies of all types.

As my father said, it was a huge pipe dream.

As I slipped into my Mercedes convertible, a bribe from my parents to continue my royal duties since I had to be seen in a fabulous, expensive car, I fanned my face. The dreams I’d had about the man could burn down an entire ten-story building.

I was careful when pulling out, checking my rearview mirror a half dozen times until I was certain the coast was clear. There was no way either Dugger or my parents would have a clue as to where I’d gone. How ridiculous that at my age, I needed a bodyguard.

Yep, my father was a hated man back in Australia, but this should be a clean slate for him, no matter the nefarious men he’d been reported to have ties to.

I sped along the interstate, hating the traffic already but I had no intention of big city living. I wanted to go to a beach community, maybe open an art gallery. I couldn’t paint or draw but I could create a profitable business in a heartbeat.

Maybe I’d add music and other forms of art. Yeah. That sounded amazing.

I had a trust fund. I could afford a building of my own.

Maybe.

If dear Daddy hadn’t locked down the funds, holding them over my head.

Laughing, I noticed a cop behind me and slowed down. I also had a lead foot, the number of tickets I’d received in Sydney ridiculous. The last thing I needed was to obtain a ticket here. My father would kill me if I used the old line of diplomatic immunity. He couldn’t afford a single additional scandal, or his world would be tossed upside down.

So, I’d resigned myself to be a very good girl.

For now.

Maybe.

My favorite word. I wasn’t making any promises at this point. Obviously, I sucked at keeping them.

Even with the horrific traffic, I was thankful it was the middle of the day, able to get to the adorable diner only fifteen minutes later.

This was Ashton’s favorite place, the kind of a dive where you could get the best Bloody Marys and bottles of wine for the cheapest in the business. Even as I parked, I studied the rearview mirror, shrinking down when I noticed a dark sedan rolling past the parking lot. I glanced into the side mirror, finally taking a deep breath.

The vehicle was like thousands of others in the capital city. Between black SUVs and huge black sedans, it would seem all politicians were coddled with drivers as well as bodyguards. When I was certain the car had disappeared, I climbed out, adjusting my sunglasses. With my long hair in a ponytail, wearing jeans and tennis shoes, I doubted anyone would recognize me.

Even though all the controversy had crossed the big pond on several occasions.

Infamous.

There was another word.

The moment I walked into the quaint joint, my mouth watered. We had several chefs at our beck and call, but I was finished with four- or five-course meals consisting of food I couldn’t pronounce.

Of course I could, but contrary to what Braxton had witnessed, I was a down to earth gal preferring American cheeseburgers and fries dipped in ketchup. For me, that was a true delicacy.

Ashton squealed before I’d made it to the table, throwing her arms around me for a huge hug.

“I wasn’t entirely certain I’d ever see you again,” she breathed, squeezing my arms before pulling away. “You look incredible. You’re glowing. You got a job.”

I laughed as we sat down at what we’d considered our favorite diner while attending Georgetown. I ripped off my shades, leaving them on the table. “Not yet but I am working on it.”

“Is that your hot red convertible?” she asked, giving me one of her mischievous looks.

“Yeah, a gift from dear old Daddy. He’s just trying to keep me in line.”

“Way to go, Pops.”

A Bloody Mary was almost immediately placed in front of me and I grinned at the waitress.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” she asked.

“Not yet but can we have a basket of your homemade chips and your famous creamy jalapeno ranch dip?”

“Sure can, sugar. Just let me know when you’re ready to order.”

Ashton was laughing. “I tried calling you a couple days ago, but I had to leave a message.”

“Yeah, I was a little out of pocket.” I hated myself that I couldn’t get Braxton off my mind, but he had a way of tattooing his personality and his scent all over anyone he hungered for. Maybe that was why I was glowing.

“Out of pocket? Your parents allowed that to happen?”

“I forced it. They were too busy settling in their mansion to worry.”

“Well, where did you go? A little vacation?” She took a sip of her drink.

I sat back, tossing my purse further away. I’d already turned off the phone’s ringer. I certainly wasn’t interested in being harangued during lunch. “Something like that.”

“Oh, come on. Spill it.” Ashton pushed my arm.

“Let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of the Royal Players Club?”

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly as she thought about my question. “Yeah, it’s a Caribbean island catering to rich people. Right?”

“That’s only half of it. There are two islands, one near St. Thomas and one near St. Martin. They not only cater to the rich who want to get away and be ensured privacy, but the resort also sports high dollar casinos and clubs. Extremely posh. Only accessible by private jet services. The island I was staying at had incredible beaches too. If you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Sounds incredible, but why do I get the feeling there’s more to this?”

The girl knew me far too well. I made certain no one was listening in, even leaning over the table. “Let’s just say the other aspect they cater to is pretty much every dark proclivity and sexual activity you can think of. Imagine debauchery on a silver platter. No worries about reporters or sneaky photographers. Members, who can bring guests, are treated like kings and queens while getting their rocks off.”

She had that look on her face I’d seen far too many times. One where she wasn’t quite certain whether I was joking or not.

I kept a straight face.

“You’re serious.”

“Very.”

“We used to talk about a little kinky stuff, but you went to an island devoted to it? I am… floored.”

One sip of the Blood Mary turned into two more. I’d forgotten just how good they were. “I assure you that I didn’t go there for the kink. The gambling on the other hand…”

She opened her eyes wide. “Ah, okay. Being a little card shark again?”

Shrugging, I glanced out the window. I had missed being in DC, but not with my parents here. “I figured it might be the last foray into assuming the bad girl mode. I just needed time to myself.”

“I understand completely.”

There was no doubt she was scrutinizing me, making a list of all the questions she wanted to ask. She had a way of doing so that I used to hate but no longer. Mostly.

“What?” I asked when she drummed her fingers on the table.

“There’s more to this story. Isn’t there?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re blushing and that’s not you.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You could always read me so well. I assure you that I went there to make some money, feel like my name wasn’t attached to one scandal after another, and have a few drinks.”

“But…”

“But the owner caught me cheating at cards.”

“Oh, shit,” Ashton gasped under her breath. “What did he do?”

Made me his sex slave. I certainly couldn’t just throw it out there. “Make me a deal I couldn’t refuse.”

“A deal. What kind of deal?” As the waitress walked closer, I took a deep breath. Admitting I’d been careless with my card skills was tough enough but letting her know I’d surrendered to a powerful man a dozen times was… Well, the truth.

Another truth was how much I’d enjoyed doing so.

“Have you girls decided?” she asked.

“Yes, two big, sloppy burgers with American cheese and bacon. Real bacon. And fries with cheese sauce and ketchup. Lots of fries.”

Ashton laughed. “I hope that was an order for both of us.”

“Of course, silly.”

“Comin’ right up,” the girl said after staring at us.

Eating this way would eventually catch up to me but not right now. On this lovely afternoon, I was enjoying my soon to be full independence.

I rubbed both hands over my head, rolling one finger around the ponytail. I used to do that in class, which drove Ashton crazy.

“Come on. Out with it. What kind of deal did he make? Cleaning rooms as penance? Being a waitress?”

“Not that simple.”

“Then what? You’re killing me with the suspense here.”

As I’d done before, I leaned closer, lifting the glass to hide behind it. Something else that wasn’t like me. Very little embarrassed me.

Yet Braxton had managed to do so more than once.

“Let’s just say he had carnal penance in mind.”

It took her a few seconds to realize what I was saying. “Carnal. As in sexual?”

“Well, maybe.”

“Oh, my God. What a jerk. That’s horrible. Who was this dude? Are you going to turn him in to law enforcement?”

“Oh, that would be great press to add to my illustrious and very notorious family. No. Plus, I had a good time.”

Her grin was way too infectious. “You liked this guy?”

“A little too much. I left quickly when he was still asleep.”

“I have never known you to be a coward. What in the world?”

“We live in two different worlds.”

“Okay, his name. What is his name?”

Cringing inside was the least of my emotions. “Braxton Royal.”

She cocked her head to the point I could see recognition almost immediately. “I know that name.”

“Yeah, he and his two brothers run several lucrative businesses.”

She yanked her iPad from the seat beside her, something she never left home without.

“I already looked him up. I know who he is,” I told her.

“You likely know all the glossy stuff.”

“Well, he is a powerful man like his brothers.”

“This one?”

Just seeing his photograph again brought about another series of wicked thoughts. “That’s him. Why?”

“He’s not only powerful but considered dangerous.”

“Aren’t all wealthy, influential men considered dangerous beasts?”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe but there have been several stories written about him I’ll find for you. Utter scandalous events. He’s a playboy too. I think he has a woman for all three hundred sixty-five days of every year.”

I folded my arms, placing them on the table. “You think I’m afraid of some articles online after everything my family had been put through?”

“Oops. I forgot. Just be careful. If the two of you are linked with a sex club, then all hell could break loose. If you think your news sources are terrible, American television and newspapers are much worse.”

I hadn’t thought of that aspect. “Don’t worry. I’m not seeing him again. He doesn’t even know who I am. And I left without him knowing.”

“Whew,” she said. “Well, he is incredible eye candy. I’d surrender to his needs.”

Now we both laughed and I was thankful I’d come. This was exactly what I needed to soothe my soul.

But what I really needed, the one thing I craved was the one thing I couldn’t have.

Damn it.