Page 9 of Out of Office Nights (Royals of Cartana #2)

Sabeen told herself she was relieved. That it wasn’t mild nausea from trying to decipher what exactly he’d meant chasing her through a restless night and a bleary-eyed morning, when a courier arrived to reclaim the gorgeous gown for its return to Milan.

And no, she was most definitely not dwelling on Teo when she stepped off the plane in Morocco twenty-four hours later for what she hoped would be the beginning of the most important six weeks of her life to salvage her career.

There was only one thing that should be claiming his attention: perfecting his next collection.

Ensuring his father had no choice but to admit his worth.

Nothing else should be permitted precedence. And yet once again, he’d let his most primal emotions vanquish him.

What the hell had he been thinking throwing down that gauntlet to Sabeen? Especially when he knew that having done so, he would be unable to walk away.

He’d held himself rigid, refusing to look back. He’d gritted his teeth, forcing a charming smile as the socialite who’d helped herself to his left arm draped herself all over him. He’d stopped himself from snarling at her to remove herself. He had an image to project, after all.

An image that’d emboldened Sabeen into throwing around insults. He knew very well it was the reason he’d issued the challenge. She’d scored a bull’s-eye, and he couldn’t let her get away with it.

How many times has his mother called him useless ?

Taunted him with his unimportance, ridiculed him for not even being the spare?

Of course, it was entirely his fault that he’d hitched a ride in her womb when she thought herself pregnant with only one child, only to discover his existence on the birthing table.

And from then on it seemed his only worth to his mother had been as a punchline and a verbal punchbag.

His belly clenched as his thoughts swung from one parent to the other.

The former king for a time had striven to accept the son he didn’t really need, having two exceptional specimens ready to carry on his legacy.

But gradually, as Teo had watched his father and learned to build his armour more solidly around himself, he realised the truth.

He would always be the extra spare part no one wanted.

But had he tried too hard to appear invincible? Arguing instead of adopting Valenti’s stony silences that had seemed far more effective at catching his father’s attention? Being the first to shrug off an insult or a slight?

Dios , did it even matter now?

Because whatever he’d tried he’d remained third-best, pitied and disregarded at every turn. Now he was vilified for revelling in the lifestyle he’d chosen for himself. For the joy and decadence and, yes, sometimes debauched pleasure he squeezed out of every second of life.

She dared to mock him.

Bitterness swelled in his gut. Hypocrites. Every last one of them would jump at the chance to experience a slice of his life even while clutching their metaphorical pearls.

‘Your Majesty…is that the right way to address you?’ the far too shrill voice had asked, jarring him out of his internal reviling.

‘Not quite.’

Alarm had darted across her face at his curt tone, but she’d rallied admirably.

‘Well, I was just saying I’m having a few friends over at my place for drinks.

You should join us.’ She’d leaned even closer, flaunting a shameless amount of cleavage, with copious amounts of eyelash batting should he be thick enough to miss the extras on offer.

‘You can teach me the correct way to address you.’

Her after-parties were renowned for delivering the right amount of debauchery that would wipe his mind clean of every scrap of disgruntlement and bitterness he’d endured in the last twenty-four hours.

And yet his usual rousing rejoinder had raced to the tip of his tongue, only to wither and die an agitated death. Not even the promise of oblivion was enough to sway him.

Pasting on a smile that only had her eyelashes fluttering faster, he’d disentangled himself from her surprisingly tenacious hold.

‘Not tonight, my sweet. You will need to find someone else to tutor you in the art of courting royalty.’

Before her disappointment had fully formed on her face, he’d turned away and was striding towards the door.

At least one thing had been successful. With that gown Sabeen had so stunningly modelled, his competitors were primed for another excellent trouncing. He’d ignored the envious glances cast his way, the sycophants eager to blow smoke up his behind.

He was running out of time to salvage at least one crumb of the respect and acknowledgement due to him. His father couldn’t leave this earth without acknowledging his youngest son’s value. And Teo intended to earn that praise if it was the last thing he did.

But first, he had his and Valenti’s birthday party to attend.

‘To wild oats and mummy issues. The first brought us into the world, and the second has kept us on our toes and made us the men we are.’

Valenti, his twin by a handful of minutes, and Azar, their older brother, exchanged puzzled looks before eyeing him suspiciously.

‘I’m way too young to be losing my marbles, but I could’ve sworn you made the same exact toast last year,’ King Azar said with a wink.

Teo smirked. ‘So?’

‘So you can’t even be bothered to find new words now?

’ Valenti drawled, the corner of his mouth almost curling up, but his expression was as militant and bored as it had been since Teo could remember.

He was almost certain his twin had been born looking intensely dissatisfied with the world.

Not even the old man’s continued expressions of pride could ease Valenti’s perennial bad mood.

In some ways he envied his brother. Valenti had his walls so heavily fortified not even a sliver of emotion bled through.

Whereas he lately seemed to be haemorrhaging bitterness and rancour.

He shook his head then realised his brothers were still staring at him with various degrees of baffled amusement.

Digging deep for his suddenly elusive joie de vivre, he plastered a smile in place.

‘Why mess with a good thing? If I recall, it was just right after my toast last year that you saw your future wife, no?’

Azar’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you telling me you’re looking for a wife on your birthday?’

‘Hell, no,’ he denied, the very idea making an itch scramble beneath his skin.

The King of Cartana swirled his cognac, grinning—a habit he’d taken to far too often since his marriage—as he eyed Teo.

‘If I remember correctly, that female journalist you dated a while back quoted you as saying that you’d rather pluck your eyeballs out and use them as golf balls than settle down. Am I right?’

He had indeed said that, but for some reason, having his words quoted back to him grated, the disgruntlement that resided far too close to the surface, dragging sharp talons over his skin.

So what if he was firmly against the trappings of matrimony? Could anyone blame him? The risk of inviting even a fraction of the acrimony he’d witnessed between his parents into his life left him stone-cold.

Azar was newly married and entrenched firmly in his honeymoon phase.

Teo was happy for him and Eden and for their relationship with the beautiful son whose existence Azar hadn’t known about until a year ago.

His nephew was a cute little devil. His sister-in-law was equally decent.

But that was where Teo intended his feelings on attachment or permanence to end.

‘Since you seem out of sorts, allow me to make the toast this year. It is your and Valenti’s birthday after all.’

Before Teo could protest, Azar raised his glass, the wicked glint in his eye making the hair on Teo’s nape stand up on end. Slanting a glance sideways, he saw that Valenti was equally tense, as if he, too, suspected he wouldn’t like what was coming.

‘To immersing yourselves completely into the still and deep waters ahead, and emerging triumphant with the greatest prize of all.’

‘What the hell kind of toast is—?’

‘Are you drunk?’ Teo cut across his twin, frowning at Valenti.

But even as he made the demand, he was dismissing it.

His brother rarely drank. Hell, the only time Teo had ever seen Azar lose control was in Arizona four years ago, when he’d lost his head over the woman who was now his wife and queen.

Azar merely smiled, leaving the toast hovering ominously in the air.

Teo diverted his gaze before his brother looked into his eyes and somehow made the disturbing discovery that his first thought at the mention of prizes had been Sabeen, the woman who’d invaded his mind and taken residence there for the past two weeks.

The woman who had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth, leaving him no choice but to order his security detail to hunt her down.

The woman who’d ignored his every communication, forcing him to concede that for once in his life, having someone play hard to get was somehow shockingly effective.

That the thrill of the hunt had fired him up unlike very few things had in the last decade.

And yes, he intended for her to pay for that too.

She was his little project. Until her lustre wore off.

Then he’d have no choice but to pursue his next high. But first…

He made a show of looking around at his invited guests, picking out a blonde bombshell who eagerly sashayed over the moment he caught her eye.

‘If you’re done spewing nonsense, maybe we can get this party underway? I have a clutch of eager women to seduce.’

He was most definitely going to ignore the reproving frowns that comment produced. Even if he had no intention of acting on it.

Not a single soul could tell the Playboy Prince what to do. Especially on his birthday.