Royal Rogue: British Bad Boy Romance

By D.G. Whiskey

Addison

He's richer than the Queen. More famous, too. And he needs my help.

I didn't know the stunningly handsome stranger at the bar was Liam Windsor, royal cousin and billionaire banker. He seduced me before I learned the truth. Now he wants me again. And again.

Sleeping with clients never ends well, but how can I refuse?

Liam

A blackmailer is after my fortune and threatens to destroy my life.

The hacker I'd contacted to help solve my problem didn't show up to our meeting, so I lost myself in a gorgeous redhead instead. Imagine my surprise when I found out the hacker spent the night in my bed.

I need to hide my intentions from the blackmailer, and I know exactly how to do it. Addison will have to pretend to be a billionaire's girlfriend.

If I have my way, it won't be an act for long.

~~ 
Royal Rogue is a standalone romance with no cliffhanger and a happily-ever-after ending. Addison is a minor character in the novel Steal, but you do not need to have read Steal before reading Royal Rogue.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.G. Whiskey
• Release date: Mar 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386972969

Book preview

1

~ Addison ~

Ichecked the coordinates on my phone for the fifth time since I sat at the bar twenty minutes ago.

This is the right place.

Sweetness mingled with the bite of liquor as I sipped my whiskey sour and scanned the room once more.

The downtown London pub bustled with patrons, gathering for the post-work ritual of a pint with colleagues. It made it difficult to locate my contact.

Maybe I should just leave.

I had barely decided in favor of showing up for the meet as it was. The only pieces of information I had were the set of coordinates and a date—I didn’t like knowing so little.

While most of the bar’s inhabitants sat in friendly groups, there were a few people on their own, as I was.

A silver-haired man in a pressed suit sat in the corner, manning a veritable swarm of devices laid out on the table in front of him—three different smartphones, two tablets, and a laptop. He would have been a promising candidate if he’d looked up from the myriad of screens before him at any point in the past twenty minutes. No one waiting for a clandestine meeting would be so inattentive to their surroundings.

The other loners in the establishment were even further off the mark—the sloppy early evening drunk who had already made the rounds to talk to every woman present and been repeatedly shot down, the animated traveler halfway down the bar who engaged anyone within a ten-foot radius in lively and loud conversation, the quiet, withdrawn girl at her own table who alternated between looking at the door and her phone every five seconds.

I played with the black business card in my pocket. There was no need to take it out to look at it—I’d spent countless hours over the past month staring at the blank surfaces and teasing out its secrets. It had taken a couple of days to discover the Near Field Communication computer chip within. The encrypted message inside had led me here.

It also contained a signal that would have lit up like a road flare to the person looking for it.

Uncertain I wanted to go through with the meeting, I’d disabled the signal so I could scope out the situation at my leisure. Now, it seemed like the owner of the business card wouldn’t even show.

It’s probably for the best. James didn’t say what they wanted or what the situation was. I’ll just enjoy London and then continue on my travels.

I didn’t need the money.

The front door of the pub swung open, and a sudden hush settled over the patrons for a few moments. Conversations restarted, louder than before, as though people realized they had been caught staring.

That was weird.

The man who’d entered was tall, dressed in slacks and a shirt that exuded an air of effortless style. He was also the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

If I’d been in the middle of a conversation, I would have trailed off, too.

I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help watching the man as he walked to the bar. His gait was careful, measured, paced like someone in complete control.

His gaze caught mine as he approached the bar only a few feet away from my perch on the polished length of hardwood.

I flushed and looked away, back to my phone. My fingers jabbed at the screen with meaningless motions, opening and closing applications just to make it look like I was occupied.

Good evening, sir. What would you like?

The bartender’s deferential speech and attitude caught my attention. It was a complete transformation from the gruff manner the old man had shown me.

Hello, Howard. I’ll take a pint of whatever’s freshest, thank you.

The words rolled from his lips with the crisp delivery of a cultured English accent. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

My finger traced idle circles on my phone as the new arrival took a seat only a few feet away. I glanced up to find him watching me with a small smile on his face. Heat rose to my cheeks again, and I dropped my head back down.

He chuckled. It was a low, sonorous sound.

You’re allowed to look at me. I don’t bite—at least, not the first time I meet a lovely woman.

I fought through the embarrassment of my reddened face to meet his eyes. Sorry, I’m not usually this shy. I don’t know what came over me.

That’s quite all right. You’re American?

I nodded. I am.

His regard became appraising, as though the new information warranted a second look. Do you recognize me?

That’s an odd question.

No. Should I? Have we met?

He chuckled again. No, I was just curious if that’s why you were staring. Forget I said anything. What brings you to London?

I hesitated. There was no way I could divulge the true nature of my presence in the city. Business, mostly. Although it’s looking like that part of my trip is over, so now I’m looking into the pleasure side of things.

Is that right?

The tone of his voice was teasing.

I can’t believe I said that.

I mean, not pleasure, exactly, I stammered. I want to see the sights and sample what the city has to offer. I’ve never been to the UK before.

It’s a lovely city. Immense history, and the culture to match. Have you seen much of it yet?

I shook my head. I only got in last night. I’ve barely had time to grab a meal, let alone see the sights.

And your business is already finished? It must have either gone very well or very poorly.

I scanned the pub once more. Still no one obviously waiting to make contact. The deal fell through. On the bright side, I have nothing standing between me and enjoying London for the rest of my stay.

That is great news. He checked his phone. Do you have anything planned for tonight? My own plans look to have fallen through, and I could use company.

His proposal sounded genuine, but I could hardly believe it. He looked like he had stepped off a movie screen or a magazine spread. He was that handsome. Add his voice on top of things, and my whole body felt a magnetic attraction.

I don’t even know your name!

He smiled and extended his hand. Liam.

His hand was warm and strong around mine, but not uncomfortable. The strength was obvious, but well-controlled.

Addison. It’s nice to meet you, Liam.

He nodded. Likewise. Is that a yes?

I bit my lip. It was crazy to consider going out with this random man I’d just met. No matter how handsome, or what he made me think…

It had been a while since I’d been with a man. Falling into bed with Liam wouldn’t be the worst outcome for the night. I’d already decided to put the failed meeting behind me and enjoy London.

What do you have in mind?

Liam still held onto my hand. Ninety percent of my focus was on the sensation of his skin touching mine, the searing heat where we connected.

My friend is hosting a dancing night at his gallery around the corner. It should be a good mixture of music and art, if that interests you.

That sounds fascinating. I didn’t have to feign interest. I’d experienced nothing like it.

Excellent. Shall we?

Right now?

He smiled as he got to his feet and pulled me along with him. My hand never left his. No time like the present. This is a nice pub, but I’d rather get to know you over cocktails and art.

I couldn’t argue with that. With one last look around the room, I nodded my agreement. Liam led me out of the pub and onto the street, twilight settling over the city as we strolled along the sidewalk.

So, do you often pick up random American girls in pubs? I asked. And is holding hands when first meeting someone a British thing?

Liam grinned widely, an expression that would have made any other man look goofy but somehow just added to his character. The perfection of his smile helped. This may be my first time for either, actually. The longer I held onto your hand in the pub, the less I wanted to let go. I hope you don’t mind.

No, it’s nice. I squeezed his hand. Just unexpected. How far is your friend’s place?

He pointed with his free hand. That’s it, just up there.

A mass of people gathered a couple of blocks up the street. It looked like an enormous line.

Holy! Is that a line to get in? I thought this was a little get-together, not a huge event!

It was Liam’s turn to squeeze my hand. It will be fun, I promise you.

We reached the line of people, and Liam pulled me along to the front entrance. A red carpet lay on the sidewalk leading to the door, with a red velvet rope barring the way.

I don’t mind waiting in line, I said.

Nonsense. Liam unhooked the rope from its support and gestured me through.

A beefy man in a nice suit with an earpiece caught sight of us and walked over. Excuse me, you need to go back and wait in line.

He didn’t look like the type of person I wanted to get on the wrong side of. It’s okay, Liam. Let’s go. I tugged on his hand.

Liam? The bouncer did a double take as he looked at Liam’s face. I’m so sorry, sir. Please, go right in.

My mouth dropped, and Liam looked back to give me a wink. I told you. Let’s go.

Still connected with interlaced fingers, Liam pulled me along with him as he strolled through the wide double doors as if he owned the place.

What the hell was that about? I asked when I’d finally caught my equilibrium. That bouncer looked like he saw a ghost.

Liam shrugged. He must have recognized me as his boss’s friend. I’ve been here before.

The atrium opened to a large series of connected rooms. Each was set up with a different theme and color, with an array of paintings, sculptures and art installations spread throughout. It was already crowded inside. Waiters circled with glasses of wine and champagne.

Art was one thing I’d never taken the time to appreciate. It didn’t help me with my work, and I understood little of it. Liam set out to change that.

This piece here is one of my favorites—I made sure that Oliver displayed it tonight.

Liam had flagged a waiter, so I stood and sipped and tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

It’s… a bunch of broken glass?

If it hadn’t been sitting in the center of the room on a podium, I would have thought the display was destined for the garbage heap. Shards of glass were piled in many patterns, and some hung from strings. Many of them were silvered, like a mirror.

Look beyond what it is, and into what it represents, Liam said. Art can mean many things to different people. Good art isn’t just about looking pretty.

What do you see when you look at this?

Liam took a sip of champagne and then used my hand in his to pull me closer to the podium.

Do you see your reflection in the shards?

I squinted at the hanging bits of mirror. They dangled from their strings, swinging gently as the air stirred in the room.

I can’t make us out. Am I supposed to?

No. And what use is a mirror when you can’t use it to look at yourself? It’s an object that mostly serves a singular purpose in our daily lives. What the artist has done is taken a medium used for vanity and the examination of self and turned it into something aesthetically pleasing for its own sake. It’s beautiful.

With Liam’s attention held by the artwork in front of us, I watched his face as he spoke. The almost painfully handsome face was animated, the eyes lit with passion. The grace of his speech captivated me.

He’s very smart. Most men who look like him would never bother developing their intelligence as well.

Liam had been attractive enough when he was just a pretty face, but hearing that breathtaking English accent expound on such a cultured topic was even more enticing.

He caught me looking at him. You aren’t looking at it.

I smiled. I found something more interesting to watch.

Liam’s lips found an easy smile as his hand pulled me closer, until I stood pressed against him.

If you think my mouth is fun to look at, you should see what else it can do.

That mouth drew closer to mine, hovering an inch away until I couldn’t take it any