Page 21 of Royal Hottie
“I have many talents.” A stretch. Ruby taught me what to do. “Ruby and I are friends. The date would be completely platonic.”
“Phillip.”
She doubts my intentions, probably with good reason, but my need to prevent the Ruby-Adrian connection outweighs all other risks. I straighten my spine and say in my most imperious voice, “Anna, take it or leave it.”
She caved. Her friends want to see me in the auction too much for Anna to disappoint them. I caved too, but it’s on my terms and for a good reason.
So here I am in the ballroom, standing behind a red velvet curtain with my younger brothers. There’s a small stage and a catwalk that leads down the center of the rows of chairs, where Anna’s nutso wild friends will be sitting. I’m wearing one of my club outfits—black button-down shirt open at the collar, black leather trousers, and black motorcycle boots.
Lucas hip-checks me. My younger brother by a year resembles me with the same dark brown hair and blue-green eyes, though his beard hides the similar sharp lines of our cheekbones and jaw. “I bet I go for more than you.”
I snort. I’m the headliner here.
“I want in if we’re betting,” Oscar says, joining us. “I bet Lucas goes for more than Phillip, and I go for more than both of you.” He’s three years younger than me at twenty-six, with the same coloring, but, by some fluke of nature, inherited a combination of our parents’ traits that made him turn out the best looking of us. His face has perfect symmetry like you see on male models and movie stars. If he wasn’t so discreet, he would probably be the one dubbed the royal hottie.
“I’m putting a hundred on Phillip,” Adrian says, slapping a hand on my shoulder. Now that I’ve neutralized Adrian’s possible claim on Ruby, I can enjoy his support. He’s my youngest brother at twenty-three, same thick dark hair, but his eyes are hazel like our mother’s.
“Thank you,” I tell Adrian. He’s a card shark and loves a good high-stakes poker game, but he’s smart about his betting. He must really think I’m going to be the highest bid.
“Why’s that?” Lucas asks Adrian.
Adrian lifts his palms. “He’s the royal hottie. Anna’s friends are mostly here for him.”
Lucas shoots me a sideways look. “Maybe I’ll put on a better show.”
Oscar rubs his scruffy jaw. “Just because we’re not an internet meme doesn’t mean we can’t outbid him. So how much do you want to wager?”
I ignore them as they whisper and shake hands, striking deals for the bets. I already know I’ll win. I’m bidding on myself, and the women are crazy enough for me they’ll surely keep up with my bids.
Women’s laughter bursts through the room. Sixteen man-hungry women who all want a piece of me. The hair on the back of my neck rises as a horrifying image flashes through my mind—me flat on my back on the ground, the women ripping my clothes and yanking out locks of my hair. I’m having second thoughts. And third and fourth.
“They’re here,” Lucas says, rubbing his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
Fun? No. Torture is more like it. And, after the auction, the torture continues. Since there’s only four princes up for auction, that means a lot of the women will be disappointed, so Anna asked us to spend time with them, mingling and dancing.
Anna bursts through the center of the red velvet curtains separating us from the stage, which exposes us to the women’s view. They go wild with hoots and hollers. I do a quick scan of the crowd for Ruby before stepping out of view. I didn’t see her. Lucas and Oscar are pointing at different women like they’re picking them out personally. Adrian blows them a kiss.
“Royal hottie, you are mine!” the insane woman who took my trousers’ pocket hollers.
“He’s mine!” another woman hollers.
“I’ve already named our children!” someone hollers, and the women scream with laughter.
What if Ruby’s a no-show?
Anna looks over her shoulder at her guests. “Bar’s open, ladies! Help yourselves!”
“Woo-hoo!”
“Party!”
“Yeah! This place is the best!”
Great. Let’s lower their inhibitions even more.
Anna closes the curtain behind her and says under her breath, “They’re already wasted from the cocktail hour we just had. I didn’t want them to feel too intimidated to bid on princes who date models.”
My brothers smirk. I’m too busy thinking about an escape route.
