Page 34 of Royal Player
I head for the elevator. Oscar and Vaughn follow. There’s a middle-aged couple here too.
The doors of the elevator close, and I stare straight ahead. I don’t know how to get rid of Oscar, but now that he’s standing so close, I’m not sure I even want to anymore. He’s everything Charles is not—a good man, honorable and honest. He looks out for me in a protective way. And he smells so good. The pull to him overwhelms me.
Focus.What are Oscar’s intentions? Is he going to follow me to my room and lecture me on the dangers of having dinner with a sex addict? Charles is a lot more dangerous than that. He’s a total sleaze, but then again so is Peter. Is it possible Peter is behind this virginity auction? Maybe he wants to discredit me, make it impossible for me to take my place as queen because I haven’t passed muster. No, he’d want me to be queen since that’s his way in as king. This must be Charles’s idea, looking to benefit from my misery. He’s an opportunist.
Oscar leans down to my ear. “Invite me in.”
Warmth seeps through me despite the horrendous turn of events. Oscar feels safe.
I glance up at him, and he gives me a tight smile. “I want to talk to you privately, away from your entourage.” He means Vaughn.
“About what?”
“The casino and your place in it.”
I don’t believe him. He wants to lecture me. “Then let’s call Adrian.”
“Adrian is on a winning streak. The building could fall down around him and he wouldn’t budge.”
I face front. I need to think clearly, but it’s impossible. I was already off-kilter from my meeting with Charles, and now my senses are overwhelmed with Oscar’s sexy scent and proximity. I’m flushed with heat. A very inconvenient time for me to be in lust. Irony.
“Just business,” I say as the elevator doors open. “No lecture.”
“Lecture,” he scoffs. “What do you think I am, some stuffy chaperone?”
I give him a sideways look. “You sounded like one earlier.”
He grins. “Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were dealing with where Charles is concerned.”
More than you could possibly know.Sex addict is the least of Charles’s sins.
A few minutes later, I let him into my room. Vaughn remains in the hallway.
Oscar puts the TV on.
“You want to watch TV?” I ask.
He crosses to me, speaking low near my ear. “I want to have a private conversation. I know how to work around staff. I’ve been guarding my own privacy my entire life.”
“I wish it were that easy for me.”
He sets the remote on the dresser and then crosses to the far side of the room and sits on top of the desk. “Have a seat.” He indicates the wooden desk chair.
I do. Then I realize I have to look way up at him, and I feel too small here, trapped almost in the inferior position. I get up, shift the chair away, and sit next to him on top of the desk.
I’m nervous suddenly. I can’t even look at him, but all of me is suddenly hyperaware of him—the dark outline of his legs in tailored pants, his large hand resting on his thigh, the heat of him, his sexy scent. I’m sowired. He comforted me last night, yet I’m wound so tight I feel like if he said “boo!” I’d jump a mile. It must be because I’m holding in too many secrets.
“Polly.”
I meet his blue-green eyes and they’re sharp, studying me. I clear my throat. “What did you want to talk about exactly?”
“If we’re going to be business partners, you have to be honest with me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I instinctively cover my tracks when I’m caught by surprise.”
His eyes narrow. “That sounds like a little more than dinner. Cover your tracks? Caught? What exactly are you doing with Charles?”
I clamp my mouth shut. I need to be honest, but I simply can’t share the hideous turn of events. “It’s nothing to do with you.”
