Page 9 of Royal Beast
“I know you like that girl, but we’re not in the business of forgiving debt over feelings, dear brother,” Rory points out. “We have a reputation to uphold.”
“I know,” I admit, an edge to my tone. I flex and curl my fingers, trying to push down my irritation. “She came to me for help, though.”
Rory goes quiet for a moment before groaning. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of helping her.”
“I am,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “But I’m not going to just roll over and forgive the debt, either. I’m going to ask for a deal in exchange. If she marries me, I’ll pay the debt back myself.”
“That is a terrible idea,” Rory says, a warning note in his voice. “You have feelings for her. This could get complicated very quickly. You know that business and feelings don’t mix.”
“It's not about feelings,” I insist, my voice firm. “This is about strategy, nothing more. I can keep her safe from Max's mess and she can serve a purpose for me. She needs protection, and I need someone like her by my side. It's business, Rory, not romance.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Kells.”
I sink into my leather recliner. “She’s a highly accomplished, beautiful woman, and she’d be the perfect person to have on my arm when I’m forced to attend those business functions. She can mingle with the other wives and charm the old farts whom we need in our pockets.”
I can practically see the frown on Rory’s face as he speaks. “If you think you can handle it, then I’ll support you. I still think this is a damned terrible idea, but at least you’re getting something out of it. Just don’t get your heart broken.”
The fact that he’s willing to support me is all the proof I need that I’m doing the right thing. I’m going to make sure no one else messes with Darcy Flynn or her kid.
As I hang up, I stand and walk over to my liquor cabinet, needing something to quell my racing nerves. I pour myself a finger of bourbon and sit down, sipping at it while I open my laptop and put a few things together for the deal.
Reaching for my phone, I call Darcy back, waiting while it rings.
When she answers, I skip the formalities.
“I have a proposition for you,” I tell her.
She goes quiet, and I barrel forward. “I’d like to discuss it with you over dinner. Meet with me tomorrow at The Garrison,” I say, naming a high-end steakhouse not far from her place. “Six o’clock.”
Darcy clears her throat. “Okay,” she agrees, her voice soft. “See you then.”
The following evening, I arrive at The Garrison fifteen minutes early, strolling into the dimly-lit restaurant. The walls are dark and tastefully decorated tables with flickering candles are scattered throughout the open floorplan. This is the place we usually come to when making our biggest business deals.
A waitress leads me to a private table in a corner, and I settle in to wait.
Darcy arrives a few moments later looking beautiful in a long-sleeved, peasant-style, brown pinafore dress. Her normally sleek hair is in waves, and she’s exchanged her usual dark lipstick for a rosy nude. She looks softer, less harsh than her business attire, and I find myself immediately drawn to it.
“You look lovely,” I tell her, pulling the chair out for her to sit.
“I don’t get out to nice places like this very often anymore,” she admits, perusing the wine selection of the menu.
We make small talk after ordering our drinks. She tells me about a high-profile author client they’re working with.
“How have you been?” Darcy asks, tilting her head in curiosity. I take in her face across the flickering candlelight and find myself drawn in all over again. Long eyelashes frame icy blue eyes, her full lips practically begging to be kissed. She looks so gorgeous, her round face and curves enhancing her natural beauty.
“Fine,” I say, pushing away the stirring desire. “Been working on opening a new casino. But that’s not what we’re here to discuss. I know you want to know the details about the proposal I’m offering.”
She bites her lip, nodding as she crosses her legs. “What is it that you want from me?”
“It’s simple,” I say, laying my hands flat on the table. “I’ll erase your father’s debts, permanently, and ensure that you never have to worry about them again. But in return, I want you to marry me.”
Darcy’s eyes widen as one hand flies to her mouth. “Marry you?”
I nod. “You’ll be my responsibility, which means I’ll pay Max’s debts myself.”
“This is wild,” Darcy mutters, looking down at her lap. “You’re completely crazy. I can’t marry you. You’re a Brannagan, for God’s sake.”
“Those are the terms,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Take it or leave it.”
