Page 7 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

Playing Games

KEIR

I ’d riled Ingrid up by talking about a good kiss making her wet. It was low-hanging fruit. She’d changed the subject, but I’d watched her bite her lip and contemplate it. She had the most beautiful little mouth. I’d loved to have taken the time to kiss her properly. I wondered what she could do with those full lips beyond kissing. I watched in agony as her hips swayed with each step on our return trip to the rest of the party.

Things devolved there. Leah was sprawled out, her head in Cici’s lap for some reason. I didn’t ask. She was too much like her father, my Uncle George, in that she always needed to be the centre of attention. As she was the life of the party, we obliged her.

“Get up, you’re taking up too much space,” Cici laughed, smacking Leah’s arse.

“I’m a bad girl,” Leah joked, getting up and flopping down next to Duncan.

“You need to be cut off,” I said.

“She called her boyfriend and had phone sex in the car on the way back to the harbour,” Betty groaned .

“Betty,” Lars sighed, “you know nothing about phone sex, or sex, for that matter.”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Leah giggled. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.”

Betty giggled.

“But yes, I did get… mildly inappropriate on the phone. I didn’t know anyone could hear me.”

“The beauty of being American is you think no one can hear you, but we all can,” Duncan said.

“I am only half! Same as most of you, I’ll add! People find my accent adorable.”

I snickered. “Leah, when you get bored of being on your PR campaign, let me know.”

“Oh, my publicist has an easy job unless I’m fucking the wrong person at the wrong time.”

“Does anyone mind? Betty is precious,” I said, running around to cover her ears.

“Agreed,” Lars added.

She smacked my hand away. “Stop!”

“And yet you are both thirsting over Princess Ingrid as if she is the second coming. No offence to you, Ingy. You’re downright fuckable, but neither of them can hold back. You realise she’s only two years older than Betty, right?”

Lars and I looked at one another, then Leah. Yes, it was true. That everyone else saw it and Leah called it out was the painful bit. I wanted to riot.

“Oh, stop. She’s right,” Cici said. Isak nodded along. He almost always let her do all the talking.

“I am not a baby! I refuse to accept anyone’s opinions on this matter. They are wrong!” Betty declared.

I sat near Ingrid—the only seat left—as the rest of the party weighed in, arguing in a short moment of distraction. I finally dared to look over at her. Arms crossed, she sat, bothered by the frank, sarcastic talk of our company of unruly and undisciplined soldiers. If these were my men, I’d never have tolerated this.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as chatter continued. “I don’t think of you like that. ”

“So, you think I’m ugly?” She asked, hopping up.

I contemplated my options. I spied Lars distracted. Everyone now cringed over an argument between the Swedes and Leah about whether she lost her virginity at sixteen or eighteen, depending on how you sliced it. I needed to apologise to Ingrid. Leah had a point. I objectified her, and that wasn’t fair. I appreciated her for more than that.

I found her back in the bar, staring at the fixings for another mojito, confused.

I approached her gently, “I don’t think you’re ugly. You’re gorgeous. But… you aren’t an object. I’m trying very, very hard not to objectify you. And I am sorry for the poor impression my family is making right now.”

“You all are too much.”

“I’ll grant you that. It’s hard to come in from outside the family—for anyone.”

She nodded and sniffled.

“Do you want me to make you another? You slammed the first one,” I laughed.

“Can you teach me?” Ingrid asked, her face lighting up.

“It’s not difficult.” I gave her a cheeky grin. “But sure.”

It was about the simplest thing you could make, but she willingly gave me points here.

“You muddle the mint.”

“Muddle? That’s a word ? Like muddling through?”

“Exactly.” I demonstrated.

Ingrid leaned on the bar top, peering to see what I was doing. I attempted to make something straightforward look impressive.

“Next, put sugar in the shaker. Or, since they have simple syrup, we’ll go for that. It’s cheating a bit.”

“What makes the syrup… simple?”

I laughed. “It’s just sugar water.”

“Oh.”

“After that, lime juice and rum.”

I closed the shaker and debated handing it off to her for not-so-innocent reasons, given that I knew she was wearing a dress without a bra. I needed to behave, so I shook the drink momentarily and poured the cocktail over ice.

“And then you just garnish the damn thing. It’s not complicated.”

“I don’t even know how to cut a lime,” Ingrid winced.

“How?” I laughed.

“I wasn’t even allowed near a kitchen growing up. None of us can cook, but Astrid—and that’s only because Parker can.”

I shook my head. “That is no good. You should learn. It’s a life skill.”

Ingrid took the drink, slowly rotating it as if it were something special. She gave me a small smile and said, “Thanks.”

“I owed you for being a real wanker, so yes.”

“You weren’t. Not directly.” She softened.

Ingrid’s overly sweet face tempted me more over time. She looked so damn kissable . There was no looking away from her. She lit up a room.

“So, we’re good?”

“We’re still friends, yeah,” Ingrid said.

“I’d love to be more than that, but I’ll settle for not being sworn enemies.”

She might see Lars as a friend, which was fine, but I didn’t want that. Lars was stuck forever in limbo, and I was not.

Biting her lip, she ran her finger around the rim of the glass.

“You realise what that does to me, don’t you?” I asked.

Ingrid looked right at me and said, “No. What does it do?”

I chuckled nervously, deciding what to say. “Everything, really. You know what you are doing. Although, I still have doubts you’ve ever been kissed properly.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you could do it better?”

“I could, yes. I am certain of it.”

Ingrid sipped the drink slowly, then asked, “And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’ll be mortified. However, I haven’t a doubt I could make you plenty happy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You like it when I say naughty things, don’t you, Ingrid?”

She bit her lip again. She was craving so much more .

“Of course, I’d like to do much more than kiss you—much, much more.”

I almost did kiss her when we were interrupted.

“You alright?” Betty asked, breaking up our gathering.

Thanks for the cockblock, sister!

Ingrid snapped out of it, clearing her throat. “Oh, me? I’m good. I was getting another drink. Or, rather, Keir was keen to teach me to make one.”

“I tried,” I said, never taking my eyes off Ingrid.

“Well, you’re being rude, Keir,” Betty said, rolling her eyes and grabbing Ingrid. “Keeping her from the party is bad form.”

Betty pulled Ingrid from me. She was gone for now but never completely out of my grasp.