Page 16 of Royal Trouble
Heat flooded her cheeks. Which was silly. Xander was a playboy. And a jerk. Even if he was flirting with her, it didn’t mean anything. He’d lose interest and move on to someone new. It was his MO. And it was exactly why she needed to stay focused on her mission. She wasn’t in Valeria to indulge a royal fling or get embroiled in petty court machinations. She needed to get the story so she could go home, collect her bonus, and pay off her mother’s medical bills, leaving Valeria and all the drama it brought into her life behind.
…
Xander grinned as Everly stroked Flash’s neck affectionately, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pony’s coat. Flash neighed with satisfaction, enjoying the attention, and for the first time in his life, Xander was jealous of a fucking animal. Everly’s dark hair hung loose over her shoulders, and unlike most of the women in attendance, she wasn’t hiding under an oversize hat. The warm rays of sunlight danced across her smooth skin, and he couldn’t take his bloody eyes off her. Particularly the flat plane of her stomach, which was on full display every time she lifted her arms, because the damn yellow top she wore was cropped short as hell.
It was fucking torture.
He needed to stop staring and start getting ready for the match, but it was impossible to focus with Everly present. Perhaps spiriting her away to meet the ponies hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It had been pure coincidence when he’d spotted her talking to Lotte, and before he realized what he was doing, his feet had carried him across the open field. He hadn’t noticed her clothing until he’d gotten closer, and it was just the cherry on top of the dessert he knew she would serve him with her whip-smart mind.
“So what changed your mind?” he asked, slipping on his riding gloves. His teammates moved around them, preparing their equipment and checking their ponies. Once the game started, there would be little time between chukkas to make adjustments, but Xander was as ready as he was going to get.
Everly shrugged and gave him a coy smile that lit up her blue eyes like sapphires. “I didn’t have anything better to do.”
“Ouch.” He clapped a hand to his chest. Part of him wanted to call her out for the lie, but he let it slide. Whatever she was doing here, it seemed to go against her better judgment. “You wound me, milady.”
“Pfft.I seriously doubt that. I have every confidence your ego can take a hit—or five,” she said, giving him a pointed look, “without suffering.”
“True.” Xander grabbed his mallet and pretended to give it a once over. “But you should be careful how far you push me, Everly. Nothing sparks the competitive fires like a challenge.”
“A challenge?” She cocked her hip, drawing his attention to the way the yellow fabric hugged her subtle curves. “Is that all women are to you, Your Royal Highness?”
He rolled his eyes and ignored the impertinent question. Of course he didn’t view bedding women as a challenge. First of all, it would actually require effort on his part, which it rarely did. Just being royal tended to make women drop their knickers. Secondly, if anyone was a challenge to be conquered, it was him. After all, how many women had left his bed and gone straight to the tabloids to brag about their conquests?
If he didn’t enjoy sex so damn much, he might actually feel used.
“Don’t go formal on me now. We’re getting on so well. It would be a shame to ruin it with titles and such.” He paused, considering his options. “Especially when the game’s just about to get interesting.”
“How so?” she asked, scrunching up her nose and drawing his attention to the light smattering of freckles he hadn’t noticed before.
“You may have heard, but my record against Liam’s team is absolute shit.” True, but also misleading given the scrimmage earlier this week.
“Is that why you invited me here?” she asked, batting her lashes. “To watch you lose?”
Desire sparked in his chest at her teasing words. He was a bloody fool, chasing after a woman who barely seemed to tolerate him. But chase after her he would if that’s what it took to get a taste of her full lips. He’d never been so desperate for a kiss in his life.
Fuck. Was she right? Did he just want her because he couldn’t have her?
He shook off the thought. He might be an arsehole, but he wasn’t a fucking arsehole.
“What would be the challenge in that?” he asked, taking a step toward her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, he thought she’d step away, but she held her ground. “To make things more interesting, I’d like to place a wager on the game. If I win, you have drinks with me tonight. If Liam wins, I won’t bother you again.”
It was a calculated move. Sure, Everly was a bit prickly, but the fact that she’d shown up proved she was at the very least curious about his intentions. At best, she was as attracted to him as he was to her.
Everly’s eyes narrowed, as if she were trying to figure out his angle. Smart woman. “You’re prepared to give up that easily?”
“Trust me, there’s nothing easy about this game,” he said, planting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in a show of mock disappointment. “But if you’re afraid…”
He let the sentence hang. It was a blatant challenge, and he suspected that like himself, Everly wasn’t one to back down. It might not be his best quality—and it had gotten him into a shitload of trouble over the years—but for once, he figured it just might work to his advantage.
“Afraid?” She crossed her arms over her chest. The tiny yellow top slid up to reveal the curve of her waist, and his cock twitched in response. “From the sounds of it, I have nothing to fear.”
“Then you’re in?” He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, not where Everly was concerned. “I need to hear you say it.”
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip.
The bell sounded, a five-minute warning for guests to take their seats before the start of the match.
Everly squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, a look of defiance flashing in her eyes. “I’m in.”