Page 31 of A Royal Menace

“Thank you,” I say again, offering him a small, embarrassed smile.

He pulls his hand away, and I don’t know if I should be relieved or grieve the loss of his touch.

“I think I might be too intimidated to sing with you now,” he says while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Shut up,” I say with a laugh, relaxing a bit. “Nothing intimidates Royal Manning.”

I shove his shoulder with that last bit, and Royal grabs my fingers before I can pull back. Giving them a squeeze, hemurmurs that he’s being serious, but I barely hear the words over the pounding of my pulse in my ears. We both sit there, frozen, Royal’s grip on my fingers making my heart race while he just stares into my eyes with some emotion that resembles…longing.

He releases me suddenly, clears his throat, and turns his attention to the guy who’s now singing up on the stage. I curl my still-burning fingers into a fist and push the hand under the table as I stare at the condensation rolling down the side of my glass.

That was…weird.

“Okay, thank you, Mark. Let’s welcome to the stage––Callie and Royal!”

Oh, shit. I just sang, and I didn’t expect to be called back up so quickly. Royal slides off his stool with a smile and extends his arm toward the stage. Grabbing my drink, I drain it before wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. Royal laughs, and his smile somehow relaxes meandmakes me more nervous simultaneously. How is that even possible?

Up on the stage, I watch Royal as the song opens with the soft strains of a guitar. He meets my gaze as he sings the first words, smirking a bit at the word “girl,” but that smirk doesn’t affect me like it usually would becausedamn.

Royal can sing. His deep baritone ripples over my skin, and I almost forget to come in on my part. Lifting the mic to my lips quickly, I sing, my eyes on Royal. He doesn’t look away from me the entire time. He smiles and sings into his microphone on the chorus, harmonizing beautifully with my part.

I’m stunned.

And a little turned on.

This is wrong. On so many levels.

I tear my eyes away from Royal to look out at the crowd, and every eye in the place is on us. No one is talking. No one is moving. It’s very…disconcerting.

I somehow manage to keep singing, and when the song winds down, the bar erupts. Claps, shouts, whistles. The roar is deafening. Royal laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders before lifting the other hand holding the microphone into the air in a wave. His scent envelopes me, making me dizzy, and I quickly pull away, hand him my mic, and hop off the stage on unsteady feet.

When I reach the table, I grab my bag and spin back around, only to bump into a brick wall. I stumble back a step, and strong hands grab my shoulders to steady me as I look up to see Royal peering down at me with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with worry.

“I don’t feel so good,” I mumble, the words slurring a bit. “I’m going back to the room. I’ll see you later.”

“Callie, wait. I’ll walk you back. Just let me pay our tab.”

“No, you stay. You still have another song to sing. I’ll be okay on my own.”

I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens as he says, “Wait for me.”

His voice is deep and commanding, and I find myself frozen to the spot when he releases me. I can’t move as his voice reverberates in my head before shooting straight to my core. I watch as he stops to speak to Adam and jerks a thumb in my direction. Adam glances at my face, then looks back at Royal and nods before clapping him on the back.

Straightening, Royal spares me a single glance to see if I’m still obeying his command, then heads for the bar. I see him speak to the bartender, who nods before heading toward the register. He comes back with a receipt for Royal to sign before handing over the credit card Royal left with him to run a tab. I look down at my feet.

Royal paid for my drinks. All of them. Does that make this a date?

“No. Stop it, Callie. You’re being ridiculous,” I murmur under my breath.

“What was that?”

I rear back to find Royal in front of me once more, having appeared there as if by magic. I swallow thickly, then shake my head.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” I slur, and he nods once before pressing his hand to the small of my back and guiding me toward the exit.

I’d normally pull away from his touch, but right now, when my steps are unsteady and my head is spinning, I decide allowing it is the smarter move. Out on the sidewalk, that light touch apparently isn’t enough to steady me, and I stumble. Royal’s arm immediately curves around my waist, pulling and wedging me into his side. I allow him to hold me like that the rest of the way to the hotel, because as overwhelming as his touch is, falling on my face in front of him would be so much worse.

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