A Player for A Princess: Dirty Players Duet #2 (6 page)

W
arm yellow light
from the bathroom illuminates the master bedroom. Zelda sits on the edge of the white mattress looking up at me. Her blue eyes are so round. I touch the top of her cheek with my thumb. She’s been more honest with me than she’s ever been, and my anger has faded away.

She’s afraid she’ll get bored. It almost makes me laugh, considering my past. But none of that is what she needs to hear. I remember her question on the yacht the night of the Rose Gala. So many things she said to me in those days are so clear now.

“What do you see when you look at me?” I say lightly, repeating her words back to her.

She exhales a laugh and wrinkles her nose in an adorable way. “I didn’t really think through that question before I asked it.”

My thumb moves to her chin and the off-center line running down it. “I told you all the things I love about you.”

“You basically said I look bucktoothed, have a weird voice, and an off-center line in my chin.”

“Bullshit!” I shout, pushing her back on the bed. I trap her under me, and she squeals a laugh as she tries to twist away. “Stop struggling. I won’t let you go. Now answer my question.”

She exhales dramatically and stills. Those blue eyes move around my face, and I can’t imagine what she might say.

“I see something I never thought in a million years would happen to me.”

That’s better. “And what is that?”

“A really good man who loves me. Not a criminal or a low life.”

Moving to the side, I rest my head on my hand as I study her face. “Does this mean you’re coming back with me?”

“Cal,” she sighs, rolling into my chest. “You’re a prince. Princes go with ladies, debutantes. Not redneck hicks with bruised knees and bare feet who say
fuck
all the time.”

“Mm… my favorite thing.” I kiss her shoulder, sliding the thin strap of her dress down her arm.

She shrugs out of it, and I continue down to the swell of her breast. A little shiver makes me smile. Her fingers thread in the sides of my hair, curling, warming up.

“The best part?” she says softly. “The part that makes no sense? I actually like my life. It’s easy. Simple.”

I take a momentary break from her perfect tits. “Then why did you come after us?”

Her lips quirk, and she hesitates before answering. It’s just long enough for me to say it with her. “Ava.”

Zelda sighs. “She’s never been a redneck hick with bruised knees. She was born a lady.”

“I think you idealize her.” I kiss the top of her shoulder.

“Oh, she was a pickpocket, mind you,” she laughs. “But that was my influence. Ava would have done better. The only thing stopping her was me.”

Lifting my head, I hold her eyes. “The only thing stopping you now is you. You might have passed her to Rowan, but you’re not alone.”

Her eyes divert, and for a moment the only sound is the noise of the ceiling fan and in the distance, the sound of the waves breaking along the shore. When she turns back to me, she places her hands on my cheeks and leans up to kiss me.

I roll her onto her back deepening the kiss. Her mouth opens with a little noise, and our tongues curl together. Lifting my head, I pull that full top lip I love between my teeth lightly before sliding down her body, kissing a line down to her breasts. I smile as I feel her body respond. Her hands slide into my hair as I pull that sundress all the way off her.

She’s wearing only a lacy white thong. “You never threw this on the roof,” I say, hooking my thumbs under the sides and pulling it down her luscious legs.

“I guess you’re too distracting.” Her shoulder rises with her sigh, and I smile. She’s so beautiful.

“Come here.” Moving to my knees at the side of the bed, I hook my arms around her thighs and jerk that bare pussy to my mouth.

She lets out a little squeal as I slide my tongue over the little bud hidden there.

“Oh, god, Cal,” she gasps, touching my cheek. “I’m so close.”

“Hmm,” I kiss the crease of her thigh and her stomach quivers. I slide my palm flat over her, circling my thumb around her navel.

Her knees bend, and she holds her hands to me, “Come up here.”

One last pass over her clit, and her back arches. “Cal! Come to me.” Her fingers flex, and I laugh, kissing her stomach before diving into her arms.

A little fumbling, a little rotating of our hips, and I rock deep into her. Our mouths fuse together, and her arms are tight around my shoulders. I’m pretty close to the edge myself. I feel when she breaks, and I pull up, driving deeper. Her mouth is on my neck, and when I feel her teeth, I shoot over it.

“Fuck,” I groan as I finish. My forehead drops to her shoulder, and her legs are tight around my waist. Her lips are right at my ear.

“So good,” she whispers, and my arms flex around her.

Moving my palms to the sides of her face, I look into her eyes. They’re hazy and tired, and I catch her around the waist, dragging us up to the pillows before I pull her back to my chest, circling her in my arms.

“Sleep, beautiful,” I say, and it isn’t long before I hear her breathing smooth out as she falls asleep in my arms.

For a little while, I listen to the sound of the waves breaking far below us as I think about what this means and the idea of a perfect life. I’ve given up trying to understand how my life changed when this woman entered it. Now I’m determined to bring it all the way home.

T
he sun wakes me
, streaming through the open French doors, and I blink a few times at the white wooden ceiling, the dual fans moving ocean breezes around the airy room. The sound of soft laughter brings me completely around. I sit up and see Zelda’s on her side watching a movie on the large, flatscreen television.

Sliding in behind her, I wrap an arm around her bare waist and kiss that place where her neck and shoulder meet. It gets me a little squeal.

“Tickles!” she says, turning to kiss my lips briefly before returning to whatever is holding her attention.

“What is this?” I say, leaning on my hand.

“I don’t want to hear it, MacCallum.”

I watch a moment as Matthew Perry grabs a young Salma Hayak and kisses her deeply (as if). “Oh, now you’re going to get it. You gave me shit for
You’ve Got Mail
, and you’re watching
Fools Rush In
?”

“This movie is a million times better than
You’ve Got Mail
,” she says in that sassy voice, and I can’t resist.

Pulling her shoulder toward me, I pin her against the mattress. “I’d love to hear your justification for that incredible statement.”

“For starters, what self-respecting
man
…” (love how she emphasizes the word) “…watches
You’ve Got Mail
?”

“You might recall I was trying to lure you back into my bed.”

“Second, two words: Salma Hayak.”

“We have a little girl crush, do we?”

Her eyes roll. “She’s fun to watch, now let me up!” She struggles, and I kiss that little hollow at the base of her throat before releasing her.

She giggles, and with her back to me, she scoots her back against my chest, her ass right at the level of my cock. Needless to say, it’s a few minutes before we’re watching any more of the show, and I’m far more relaxed with my morning wood gone.

“I missed my favorite part!” Zelda pushes to a sitting position, and her blonde hair is standing nearly on end.

I can’t help it. I laugh out loud. “Your sex hair is insane.”

She blinks and tilts her face to the side. “I worked on it all night just for you!”

Something hits me right in the gut, and I know I can’t put this off one more second. Zelda sees my expression change and her teasing disappears.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Sitting up beside her, I grab her waist and pull her across my lap in a straddle. Her hands are on my shoulders, and I reach up to hold her cheeks in both my hands.

“Zelda?”

She does a little smile. “MacCallum?”

“I want you to marry me.”
Fuck
. Yep, I said it. “I don’t have a ring yet, but there are several jewelry stores in Road Town. We have to go back to Monagasco, but I’ll talk to Rowan about us living here—in Tortola—once things are resolved, of course…” Her eyes blink faster the more I speak, and I see the glisten of tears in them. “What’s the matter, beautiful? Did you think I wouldn’t ask?”

“What are you saying?” she whispers.

“I’m saying I want you to be my wife, Zelda Wilder. Shit, we’re fucking made for each other, and if you can’t see it… well, I won’t believe you. You’re too smart not to see it.”

She pushes off my lap to sit beside me. “But what will you do? I know you’re a prince and all, but you must have some job—”

“It’s true. Sadly, I can’t lie around all day fucking you and drinking champagne, but they have French Virgin Islands.”

“They do?” Her brow lines.

“Technically, they’re called the West Indies, but Martinique, St. Garth, Guadalupe…”

“But… what does that mean?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I’ll discuss it with Rowan. I’m sure we can figure out some diplomatic reason for me to be here. We’ll work it out.” She’s quiet, looking at me with her lips slightly parted. I exhale a laugh, and shit. My stomach is tight with nerves. “Just say yes, beautiful.”

Her mouth closes, and she blinks down to her lap before she starts fucking shaking her head. “No,” she says softly.

My jaw tightens. “Why the devil not?” I don’t mean to be sharp, but god dammit.

She looks up fast, blue eyes round. “Not yet.”

Okay, that response eases my temper slightly. “Go on…”

“I can’t marry you with dirty hands.” She slides to the edge of the mattress and stands. “I have to meet with Seth today and settle our accounts. Let me…” she looks around before pulling that silly penis tee over her head. “Let me end things with him, separate. Then…”

Her breath catches, and I’m out of the bed standing in front of her. She’s so small without her heels, her head is only at the center of my chest. In a sweep, I lift her, her legs going around my waist, her arms around my neck.

“Then?” I say, looking up at her worried expression.

She exhales a nervous laugh and covers her mouth. “Then… yes?” Her voice is so small, but my insides are exploding with satisfaction.

“YES!” I shout, and she really laughs then.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Lowering her to standing, I cup her face in my hands, lifting it to mine. “I’m getting everything I never knew I always wanted.”

Her eyes go wide, and she does a little shriek. “You just quoted
Fools Rush In
! You love that movie!”

I laugh and kiss her smart mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says, all joking aside. I kiss her again, and she struggles free. “Let me get this over with, and we can meet for lunch.”

I sit back on the bed watching as she retrieves a halter-top denim sundress from the armoire. “Where are you meeting him?”

“Road Town,” she says, pulling the halter dress over her breasts and tying it around her neck, leaving her lovely lined back exposed. She grabs a brush and begins pulling it through her wild hair. “He’s staying with some guy he knows from South Beach. I’ll give him his money, and then we can meet for lunch at Bomba’s!”

“As much as I love that place, we’ll meet at the Sugar Mill Restaurant.”

Giving up, she twists her hair into a cute little bun. “That’s a very fancy place.”

“This is a very important moment.”

She leans across the bed to peck my lips. “See you in a few short hours.”

“I have a better idea.” Throwing the blankets back, I’m across the room and pulling a pair of jeans over my hips. “I’ll drive you.”

Her full lips twist, and she shakes her head. “Seth is too paranoid.”

“I don’t like that guy,” I say, pulling on a thin navy sweater.

“Don’t worry. I can handle Seth.” She disappears into the bathroom and I hear running water and the sound of her brushing her teeth.

Reaching up, I rake my fingers through my hair before following her into the luxury space and doing likewise.

“Then I’ll drive you into town and pick you up when you’re done.”

We’re finished, and I get a minty kiss. “Deal,” she says with a little grin.

I catch her before we leave in a long hug, closing my eyes and memorizing the feel of her small body against mine. My fiancée. My Zee. It’s perfect.

W
e’re
in Road Town at the very spot where Seth left me our first night on the island. That night, at two a.m., it had been deserted and empty, with long shadows and ominous, dark alleys. I’d been so angry at Seth for walking off and leaving me here alone.

Now, in the light of day, it’s simply a bustling tourist market. The streets are lined with souvenir stores, clothing stores, jewelry stores, and little kiosks with hair wraps and alcoholic slushies. I look ahead two blocks to where my old hotel was situated while Cal peruses the signs.

“Samarkand or Little Switzerland?” he asks.

Our fingers are entwined, palms pressed together, and I evaluate the competing jewelry stores. “Exotic or more conservative?”

“Switzerland has a higher GDP, which means I might get the better deal at Samarkand.”

That twinkle is in his eye, and I step into him, lifting my chin for a kiss. “Surprise me.”

“Here.” Pulling us up short, I watch him take a small gold coin from his pocket and place it in a red gumball machine.

A few twists, and out pops a clear plastic container. Inside is a copper band with an American flag etched on it in red, white, and blue.

“It’s so pretty!” I exclaim.

“It’s tin,” Cal says as he slides it on the third finger of my left hand and presses the adjustable band until it fits. “How does that feel?”

Tilting my hand side to side, I admire the painted enamel. “It’s so cute for something in a gumball machine.”

“Does it fit?” he asks, and I nod still admiring the trinket. “Take it off.”

My chin jerks up. “I want to wear it!”

He laughs, catching my waist. “You can wear it after I use it to size your real ring.”

“It’s the first piece of jewelry you’ve ever bought me.” I make a little pouty face, and he laughs.

“It won’t be the last, and I’m not giving you a tin engagement ring.”

“It’s like the one they had engraved in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.”

“I think that one was plain tin.”

“Get another one.” I clutch my hand to my chest. “I want to keep this one.”

Digging in his pocket he laughs. “It’ll turn your finger green.”

I watch as he repeats the process of small coin, turn the dial, out pops another plastic container. This time when he opens it, it’s a dull silver ring. He frowns at it.

“See! It’s one of a kind! I’ll never take it off.”

“Must’ve been in there fifty years.” He reaches for my hand and pulls the first ring off, using the second, dull one for sizing before sliding it back.

“Zelda Wilder, will you take this American flag ring, which isn’t even the flag of my country, to be my wife?”

“Since I am an American, and it is my flag?” I put my arms around his neck and peck his lips. “I will!”

His hands slide down and cup my butt, and I laugh as a tingle of heat surges in my lower stomach. “Text me when you’re done. I’ll be here.”

“This shouldn’t take long.” Another brief kiss, and I head off in the direction of Seth’s hotel. “Five blocks this way,” I say to myself, lifting my hand and examining the cute little ring.

It might be tin, but it has so much significance to me. I kiss it and continue walking, looking up at the palm trees, the blue sky overhead. Optimism is a new mood for me, but I love the feeling. Even thinking about the coming months doesn’t scare me. I’ll see Ava again. I want to talk to her and see her well and happy—not like the last time I saw her.

The memory of my beautiful little sister pale and weak in a hospital bed dampens my otherwise happy mood, but I hastily shake it away. Cal said she’s completely recovered! She’s at the palace with Rowan and the country loves her.

“Of course they do,” I say softly to myself, reading the signs as I pass.

I notice none of the buildings are taller than the palm trees, and I vaguely recall Seth saying something about that when we were driving down the first time, before we took the unexpected detour into St. Croix.

The black American Express card is in my clutch, and I pick up the pace a bit, wanting to be done with this obligation and running back to Cal in as little time as needed.

I pass a sign for a crafts store and another that says Simply Delicious. “I suppose that’s a restaurant.” Wrong, it’s a market.

At last I see the sign for Maria’s. It’s a two-story white structure that faces the shore. I’m approaching it from the opposite side, and it’s larger than I expected. I was expecting a private residence or a small, five to six bedroom establishment.

“Leave it to Seth to give himself the better room,” I say under my breath.

The hotel lobby is like the entrance to an embassy—or the waiting room of a nice hospital. Square, navy leather chairs are positioned around the space, mixed in with potted palms. A large check-in counter is staffed with locals in white shirts with navy epaulets on the shoulders and little hats. It takes me a moment to recognize the nautical theme.

Pulling out my phone, I text Seth
. I’m in the lobby. Let’s get this over with.

I walk over to one of the low chairs and sit while I wait for his response. It doesn’t take long.
Give me just a second. I’ll come down and get you.

I’m growing irritated. I don’t understand why he played games the first night, considering we were right on the shoreline. It’s like he walked me further into town just to hide where he was staying.
What kind of bullshit are you up to, Seth?
I muse. Why would he feel the need to hide his location?

The optimism I discovered only moments ago dims, and my survival instinct rises in my chest. Something feels wrong here. Standing, I’m about to cut out and reschedule, taking Cal up on his offer to escort me here next time, when the elevator door opens, and I see my partner in crime emerge.

He’s dressed in dark jeans and that same long-sleeved navy sweater he had on when we left Monagasco. His eyes dart around the lobby as he looks for me, and I survey his body language. I’ve worked with Seth for years, and when he’s pulling a stunt, his shoulders hunch and his green eyes dart around the perimeter looking for cops. It’s his tell, and he’s doing it right now. I’m on my feet stepping around a palm when his eyes hit mine.

His auburn brow lowers and his jaw sets. “Zee.” His voice is low, and he makes a beeline for me.

That does it. I’m out of here. I do a quick step to the side, keeping as many chairs, sofas, palm trees, and trash cans between him and me as possible as I head for the door.

“Stop,” he hisses, darting to the side, trying to catch me. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not at someone’s house. What is this?”

I’m out of obstacles between us, and I’m going to have to make a break for the door, but he’s on me. His iron grip closes around my upper arm so tight, I wince.

“OW!” I exclaim, and he squeezes me harder.

“Shut up,” he snaps, continuing to the door and pushing outside.

Now I’m really panicking. “What are you doing?”

It’s the only thing I’m able to say before a black SUV pulls up beside us and the doors open. I jerk and try to feint right, but it’s too late. Seth shoves me inside, following right behind. The doors are still open when I see a face that shoots ice through my stomach.

Sitting in the passenger’s seat, wearing a navy suit, his greasy, black hair slicked back and his thin mustache twisting is Wade Paxton.

“We meet again, Miss Wilder,” he says, and I immediately start to scream.

“NO!” I thrust away, charging across Seth’s lap for the still-open door.

A tall man, beefy and hairy as a gorilla steps into the empty space. He’s wearing a black suit and a scowl, and with a hand the size of my face, he shoves me backwards as if I were a doll, into the truck. The door slams shut.

“Nice work, Mr. Hines,” Wade Paxton says.

“Let me out,” Seth’s voice is urgent. “This is as far as I agreed to go.”

“Of course,” Paxton says, extending a hand to my ex-partner in crime. “I believe you wanted her card?”

Seth snatches my purse and digs inside, taking the American Express card.

“You fucking liar!” I lunge forward, slapping him as hard as I can.

Seth’s green eyes flash, and he grabs me by the throat, slamming me against the opposite door. The handle jams into my back painfully, and my eyes water as he leans into my face.

“Don’t fuck with me, Zelda Wilder! You’re the liar. There’s twenty thousand on this card. You said it was only ten.”

“You’re a bastard!” I struggle against his chokehold on my neck.

He releases me and starts for the door, but I push off, right behind him. “You’ll regret this!”

“Stop her,” Wade says calmly, and Gorilla Man has my shoulder in his meaty fist, pulling me back.

My survival instinct kicks in.
Never go with a kidnapper to a second location
.

“I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!” I shout as loud as possible while the door is open. “IN THE BLACK SUV! THEY’RE TAKING ME AGAINST MY—”

BAM!
Lights explode behind my eyes as Wade’s hand smacks across my face. I fall to the floor of the vehicle, and my mouth fills with the coppery taste of blood.

“SHUT UP!” Wade snarls. “Reginald Winchester is not here to protect you, and I’d advise you to be still and be quiet or I will cut you.”

He hit me so hard, it takes me a moment to regain my bearings. I blink several times before I’m able to see the grey-carpeted floor. Blood is in my mouth, and a towel is shoved over my face quickly. Something else… Moving my lips, I work the hard object around until I pull out…

“A tooth,” I mumble through swollen, slippery lips.

It’s a small tooth. Without a mirror, I can only guess it’s from beside my canines.

“Give it to me.” Wade snatches it away. More blood in my mouth. He shoves the towel harder at me. “Stop that bleeding.”

I take it from him and pull myself onto the back seat again. “Where are you taking me?”

“That is none of your concern.”

We’re moving at a steady clip down the road. I’m injured, but I don’t feel any pain, only adrenaline. Outside the windows I see trees and vegetation on the roadside. My heart beats painfully hard and my cheek pulses in time with my fear. I watch frantically as mile after mile goes by, and I’m taken further from Road Town, further from Cal waiting in the little shopping area.

Cal
… it’s a plaintiff cry in my mind and tears heat my eyes.
I want Cal
…

Gorilla Man is to my left. Another, black-suited man is driving. Wade is in the passenger’s side on his smartphone when the vehicle slows at what looks like a stop sign. Without hesitating, I lunge for the door, gripping the handle and pulling. It could be my only chance.

The door doesn’t budge. The rear door locks are disabled.

“NO!” I scream, jerking it over and over. Tears are slick on my face, and I throw all my weight against the door.

“Deal with her,” Wade orders.

His words echo in the small space, and I’m fumbling with the power window mechanism. It’s also locked.

Movement behind me. I barely have time to glance over my shoulder when Gorilla Man closes the space between us, brow lowered. His bottom jaw juts out, and he looks like a true ape swinging his meaty fist almost faster than I can see it. It slams into my temple, and everything goes black.