Page 3 of Her Royal Master
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Darius
One of the escorts boardingSweet Surrenderdidn’t fit the mold.
I stroked my black Labrador Retriever Shadow’s ears and stared at the beautiful brunette standing in line, trying to figure out why she made warning bells go off.
Too wholesome.
No, it was the way she looked around the yacht.She lacked the giddy excitement of the girls who couldn’t wait to be on a yacht, or meet royalty, or even the practiced boredom of Marina, the professional who sees the whole thing as a job.
I sat above deck, watching as Samson, my cousin Kaspar’s head of security and handler, double-checked the call girls against their paperwork as they boarded the yacht.I’d insisted each woman undergo a background check and sign an extensive non-disclosure agreement, along with her individual contract, which itemized hard limits.Between Samson and I, we had to make sure this rodeo never went public.
I hadn’t liked using prostitutes, but Samson insisted it was better than picking up a handful of the random eager women ready to throw themselves at the royal pack of playboys.After all the scandals I’d caused and been dragged through over the last ten years, staying out of the public’s eye with the sexual proclivities of this group wasn’t a bad idea.If the press got a whiff of the prince’s fetishes—and mine—the royal family would take yet another hit in popularity and the queen would have my ass.She already blamed me for Kaspar’s corruption.
I’d introduced Kaspar to the BDSM scene, yes.But the drugs, alcohol and non-stop partying were all him.Not that I hadn’t done the same when I was twenty-two.Before my father died, and I really went off the deep end.
The brunette took in the scene with a cool and assessing gaze, as if memorizing every detail.Her eyes landed on me, and her expression sharpened as if she knew exactly who I was.
That’s right, baby.The Devil Duke is on board.
The girl had done research.And right then, at that moment, I knew I’d be the one to make sure she didn’t put it to use.
I slid off the wall where I’d perched and stalked over to the line.
Samson held the files on the girls.I positioned myself behind him as the girl reached him, and looked over his shoulder at the paper.
“Allegra Vivaldo?”Samson asked.
She nodded.“Yes.”
Shadow’s tail thumped against the deck.What do you know?He liked her.My dog was usually a one-man show.He’d bonded to me as a pup and took no interest in anyone else.Shadow’s interest only increased mine.
As Samson checked her documents, I measured the copy of her Italian passport against her face.Superficially, she matched the girl in the photo.Beautiful.Long, thick brown hair.Sultry brown eyes.But she sure as hell wasn’t five foot nine.More like five four.And thatyeshad sounded distinctly American.
“Italian, hmm?”I allowed skepticism to show on my face.
She was good.I only saw a flicker of panic before she hit me with a haughty, bored expression.“Sì.”
Shadow stood and circled around Samson to sniff her.Instantly, her mask fell away, and her face split into a breath-taking smile.“Hi, boy.”
Definitely American.
She held the back of her hand out for Shadow to sniff.He licked her hand.
Her whole body went soft.She dropped her bag, leaned over and gave my dog the full treatment, crooning nonsense as she stroked his face and ears.When she looked up at me, her face was friendly, almost shy.“Is he yours?”
I folded my arms across my chest, defending against the urge to bust out of my dom-asshole role.I wasn’t the nice guy.Everyone knew that.I was the original party boy, before Kaspar.The tattooed trouble-maker, the black spot on the Halsburg name.
But her fresh-faced innocence disarmed me.“Shadow,” I said.
“Ooh, of course, you’re Shadow, because you’re a furry black dog, aren’t you?”she crooned, rubbing Shadow all over.
It was ridiculous and adorable, and Shadow loved it.Only because of his approval, against my better judgment, I let her pass when Samson waved her through.I should have demanded she prove herself right there.Should have thrown her offSweet Surrender, because I knew she wasn’t who she pretended to be.But she was an enigma.A puzzle I needed to solve.A smart, sexy woman with an agenda.I’d keep a close eye on her.Whatever her objective, I wouldn’t let it play out.I owed my family that much after what I’d let happen last year with Madison.
The check-in complete, Kaspar took over, herding the women below deck to his playroom—a dungeon on the sea.He’d wedged a king and queen bed mattress side by side to fill the entire length of the room and had hardware mounted above it on the ceiling for bondage.The wall opposite the bed featured a bevy of implements, each lovingly displayed on hooks or brackets, like pieces of art for the women to examine.
The giddy ones giggled.Marina looked bored.Allegra—if that was her name—turned white as a sheet.Someone hadn’t read through her paperwork before signing.
