Page 20 of Royal Shark
No chance. You’re already a goner.
I stare at the words. I know he’s joking, but it hits a little too close to home. What if I am a goner? I’ve never had such an intense physical response to a guy before. I’ve never melted before either.
I play it cool, my thumbs flying over the keypad.I’m a card shark too, and it’s a shark-eat-shark world.
Chomp.
I laugh out loud. Chomp.
I text back:We should play a game just the two of us for old times’ sake.It seems I’m not so good at keeping my distance. Adrian is irresistible.
My cabana has more room. I got a suite in SoHo. Not too long a commute for you.
I smile at the cabana reference. We spent a lot of time playing poker in his cabana. His hotel room is a whole nother level of temptation. I need to be smart. I need to keep my distance.
Maybe.
Chicken.
How many things did I do as a kid because he called me chicken? I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.The boy knew how to get to me. The man is dealing with a different sort of woman. The kind who protects her vulnerable self at all costs.
I text a quick bye.Goodnight, Adrian.
Goodnight, Sara, and happy belated twenty-fifth.
I stare at the phone, once again thrown. He’s reminding me we’re both twenty-five now, and we had a pact. I drop my phone facedown on my futon like it’s burning hot.
Chill. It’s just the shock of him showing up on your doorstep that has you unsettled.Even so, I put my pajamas on so I won’t be tempted to hop on the train and show up at his hotel.
Chapter Five
Adrian
Sara’s game tonight is in a corner lot Victorian mansion in Brooklyn. I didn’t know they had mansions in Brooklyn. I thought it was all apartment buildings like in Manhattan. We drove over here together with my guard, and she’s early at seven to set up for the eight o’clock game. She says they can run late, sometimes until three in the morning if someone’s on a hot streak. Fine by me, I’m a night owl.
She’s wearing a pale green blazer, a white blouse, a matching green pencil skirt, and beige heels. She looks fantastic, the clothes accentuating her hourglass shape, but not how I expected her to look for a poker game. She brought a small black wheeled suitcase with her poker stuff inside.
I follow her up the steps of a wide front porch, and we’re let in a few moments later by a plump blonde woman in a floral dress. “Welcome, Miss Sara.”
“Good to see you again, Ms. Kay,” Sara says warmly. “This is Prince Adrian Rourke.”
Ms. Kay bows her head and curtsies. “Prince Adrian, welcome.”
“Thank you. Nice to meet you, Ms. Kay.” I gesture behind me. “This is Jack, my guard. He travels with me everywhere as a precaution. Palace rules.”
“Oh! Hello,” she says to Jack.
Jack inclines his head. He’s not one for conversation or smiles.
Sara steps inside, and we follow her in. There’s a curved staircase on our right with a carved wooden handrail, white paneled walls running the length of the staircase. Red and gold carpet cover everything. Very elegant and fitting for a Victorian-era mansion.
“Are we in the parlor again?” Sara asks Ms. Kay.
“Yes, right this way.”
We travel down the front hallway past a library on our left to a large parlor the size of two rooms. There’s two white carved columns in the center of the space on opposite sides, probably support beams. The parlor has high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, large floor-to-ceiling windows, and crown molding. The furniture is antique. On one side is a seating area with red velvet chairs set in front of a fireplace and, on the other side, a large oval mahogany table with more red velvet chairs. Ten chairs. This must be where they play.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Ms. Kay says.
