Page 38 of Resisting Royal

CHAPTER 19

BIANCA

He hadn’t lied when he said he was sexy as sin. Hell, just watching him drive with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his muscled arms exposed had me squirming in my seat. Memories of only a few hours ago turned me on without him even looking at me. He was sulking, and it was sort of cute.

We turned into the underground parking structure from the very first night I met him. His phone call was short, and although he regretted it, he had to go take care of something. He offered to drop me off at home, but then how would I get to know my husband if I didn’t see how his life is run.

He wasn’t happy that I stayed with him, in fact, he tried on numerous occasions to change my mind, but that only encouraged me more to tag along. “So how many people have you killed here?”

He turned his head to stare at me. “Amore, despite what you think, I don’t enjoy killing people.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t think you did. That’s why you have Troy do it,” I confirmed, smiling to myself because I knew I hit a truth.

He sighed, parked the Hummer, and turned toward me. “Troy doesn’t enjoy killing either.”

“He sure did a number on my father,” I pointed out.

“Troy used to be a fighter here. He likes knocking people around, but never actually killing them—well, for the most part. But we run a business. We always abide by our part of the deal, unfortunately, in situations such as your father’s, the other party does not. Not all loans are frivolous. A lot of them go to helping families, working people, at rates lower than a bank when the bank denies them. They are honest, they pay us back, and that’s that. Others take the loans with the intent to deceive.”

I wasn’t convinced he was as good as he was trying to make himself seem; he did force me to be tied down to him after all. “So these fights, they are perfectly legal, then?”

He let his head flop back against the seat. “You know they are not.”

He pulled the door open before I could speak and jogged around to open my door. Always the gentleman. When I was out of the car, his fingers tangled with mine again and he pulled me along after him, through a dark tunnel I vaguely remembered from my first time here.

“If you know they aren’t legal, why do them?” I continued my probing.

“People need money. Sometimes, desperately so. I can’t employ everyone, and this is an easy way for a solid man to make some side cash. People love violence and wasting their hard-earned cash on betting.”

What he didn’t mention—but I knew he was thinking—was other people like my father loved wasting other people’s hard-earned cash on betting. “You’re such a martyr, aren’t you, Royal?”

It was said with such sarcasm, and judging by the slight upturn of his lips that I caught as we passed a light, he found it amusing. “I mean, call me what you will.”

“Jackass,” I grumbled.

“What was that?” he laughed.

“Nothing.” He squeezed my hand tighter as we walked through the door to the fighting stadium. The crowd looked like it was just beginning to gather, the time still somewhat early. “What time does the fight start?”

“Two hours. I was planning to have Troy take you home before then,” he informed me as he pulled me down the aisle toward the set of offices I knew were in the back.

“What if I want to stay?” I hadn’t decided if I actually wanted to, but just in case.

His face looked displeased. “Then I let you stay.”

“But?” I prompted.

“But what, Bianca? You are determined to do what you want anyway. If you want to stay, stay. Search out all my flaws you’ve been seeking all night, then when you are ready, come look for my positive attributes; they aren’t going anywhere.”

Well, this date had definitely nosedived, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was my fault. Royal was right, I was searching for his flaws when really, he was trying. Hell, all night he had been polite, taking me out to a place that was personal to him, opening doors, giving me an orgasm. An orgasm had to count as good manners, right? Maybe it was me who needed to try a little harder.

“I, ah . . .” I paused, “I wasn’t trying to,” I offered.

He leveled me with a look that I assumed if given to anyone else would scream, fuck off. “Really, Bianca. You weren’t?”

I suddenly hated how he was using my name instead of the annoying pet name he always called me. “Maybe a little. But. . .” I struggled to find a viable excuse before finally giving in. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t verbally accept it, but he squeezed my hand before opening a door at the end of a hallway. The room was smaller than the ones I had previously been in, but also much cleaner. It was obviously his office; the smell of his cologne hit my senses the moment I stepped in.

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