Tomorrow would be a new day with many challenges, including the financial viability of keeping my gallery open. But I couldn’t allow myself to ponder that if I had any hope of falling back asleep. Instead, I thought about the arrogant biker. The one who’d called me a princess a few weeks ago.
He’d been everything bad girls dreamed about. At least, this one. Why was it I was always attracted to his type? The one who didn’t want anything to do with me. That’s why any sort of relationship never lasted for me. Once a guy got all mushy, I headed for the hills. Would I ever learn my lesson?
At least thinking about him had the desired effect as I drifted into dream world, fantasizing what it would be like to fuck his brains out.FourConnorHiding in my own apartment was a shit thing. Yet I didn’t think I could explain my presence to the blonde before she dialed 9-1-1. I waited a few minutes until the house got quiet before I exited the pantry and closed the door as quietly as I could.
Before I left the apartment, I peeked into the bedroom to make sure Sleeping Beauty had drifted off again. The slow rise and fall of her sheet-covered chest said so. I didn’t linger and exited the room. I’d only barely stepped out of the apartment when a fist caught me squarely in the jaw.
“So where were you hiding?” Griffin asked in a harsh whisper. His Scottish lilt was in full force tonight.
I rubbed at the ache on the side of my face and held up a finger. “One time. That’s all you get. Next time you’ll find out what Black Irish means.”
My mother was a dark-haired beauty, according to those I’d overheard. She had blue eyes the color of Caribbean waters, which she’d passed down to me. She’d told me all my life to be proud of our heritage, which included those often-labeled Black Irish, those with dark hair and blue eyes, and reminded me we were survivors by any means necessary.
Griffin huffed and spoke a series of words in Gaelic that meant nothing to me. I understood some Irish Gaelic, but none of the Scottish kinds. Even if I could, he was half muttering and speaking too fast for me to make any sense of it.
“Did you touch her?” he finally asked in English.
I narrowed my eyes at him. We might not see eye to eye, especially now, but he knew me better. I didn’t dignify his question with an answer. Instead I said, “You missed the show. She was naked and in my bed willingly.”
His jaw worked a second. “She didn’t know you were there.”
“Exactly. I didn’t know she was there either. A little warning and I might not have let myself in my apartment.”
“Stay away from her.”
“And what say do you have over her? I think she was clear when she shut you down,” I said, patting his shoulder.
He jerked away as I stifled a chuckle, but I couldn’t contain a grin.
“She’ll change her mind,” Griffin said, though his statement lacked confidence.
“When? At your little meetup tomorrow night?” When he said nothing, I tapped my chin with my index finger. “How about a wager?”
“I’m not playing any of your games.”
“Games? This is simple. I show up. You’re there. Let’s see who she chooses.” I knew something he didn’t.
“She’ll never go for this.”
“She won’t know, which will make her choice pure and unadulterated.”
He shook his head.
“Scared?” I mocked. “No one will force her hand.”
“I won’t agree to this.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll be there.” I started to walk away and stopped. “And to make things even, I suggest you don’t tell her who I am.” I winked. “That would give me an unfair advantage.”
I wasn’t exactly sure I had an advantage, but I saw the hesitation in Griffin’s eyes before I made my way to the elevator.
“Don’t worry, laddie,” I joked. “It’s not that bad to only be friends with a woman you’re half in love with.”
Griffin opened his mouth to speak, but I stepped into the elevator as the doors opened on cue.
When I got in my car, I thought over the wisdom of my bet. Griffin had goaded me into it even though he hadn’t been the one to come up with the scheme. I knew he didn’t like me and saw me as some kind of threat to his friendship with my brother.
Kalen and I had only met when he moved to New York at our father’s request. He was Dad’s first son with his first wife. My mother was currently married to the man, but recent developments suggested that wouldn’t last long. Apparently, she’d been sleeping with Dad’s best friend, who was also his lawyer. There was a hint that maybe I wasn’t even a King. I could visualize the triumph in Griffin’s glare to see me toppled from the throne.