Rogue Devil (The Rourkes #11) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,7

in the world.” His oft-repeated words. So I know for some guys the whole love and commitment thing works. And maybe one day when I’m too old to be on the prowl—forty or so—I’ll settle down. But not now.

I glance at the dining room door when it opens, a rush of anticipation going through me. Nope, not her, just a servant in the uniform of white button-down shirt and black pants. The guy walks over for a word with the king and queen. Next he stops to talk to Chloe’s sister, who stands, murmuring something to her husband, and leaves with the baby in her arms. Is something wrong with Chloe? Maybe she’s in worse shape than I thought. She seemed okay when she left my room. I should’ve made sure.

I’m dying of curiosity, but I know it’s not my place to butt in. Sara’s on it. Another round of champagne is brought out and the conversation gets louder. My dad walks around the table to chat with everyone, with Mila in his arms. He’s trying to keep her entertained while we wait for the meal to start. Usually it takes a while to get through a formal dinner with all the courses, and I think the queen wants to wait for everyone to arrive before we begin.

A short while later, a soft voice says, “Sorry I’m late, everybody.”

It’s her. Adrenaline fires through me, every nerve ending on alert. Her pink cheeks stand out against her creamy skin and red hair. She’s holding her infant nephew cradled against her chest. My own chest aches at the sight. She just looks so natural and loving with a baby in her arms. Like a beautiful angel.

Get real, Bren. Cut the angel crap.

The irony is that my parents used to call me a little devil because I was mischievous as a kid. I’ve always liked to have fun. The angel and the devil. Ha! Not meant for the long term, but definitely worth a tangle or two. If only she weren’t connected to the Rourke clan, I could act on it.

Why in the world did I volunteer to be her friend? This is too much to ask any red-blooded man.

I catch her eye. “Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

She smiles warmly. “You too.” She hands her nephew back to her sister and takes the seat across from me, unfolding her cloth napkin, looking self-conscious. She’s wearing a white cardigan over a red dress that clings to her petite curves. My gut tightens. It’s nothing blatantly sexy, the dress covers her up to her neck, but I can see her collarbones, the dip between them so feminine and tempting to trace and kiss and taste. Whoa, whoa, whoa, back it up.

I blink and turn away, realizing I’m staring. Probably with a hungry look on my face too. I’m usually much more subtle.

I glance over at Beast and he smirks. Busted. I’ve got to play it cool.

A few moments later, the first course arrives—oysters with caviar. Aren’t oysters an aphrodisiac? Not that I need one in my current state. I can’t stop stealing glances at her. She speaks quietly to Sara and Adrian mostly. Her movements are graceful, her voice soft. Is she shy? She didn’t seem shy earlier. She’s definitely not upset. Not happy exactly, more like neutral. Serious.

A couple of servants circulate, offering wine, which she declines. I do too, being more of a beer drinker.

I focus back on my food. We always eat well here with lots of seafood since Villroy is an island and their fishing industry has sustained them for centuries. More recently the fishing industry has been used for the high-end cosmetics they use at their day spa. They also run a casino, which my brothers and I plan to enjoy tomorrow before heading home the next morning on the royal jet. Finally, it pays to be born a prince. I like to drop that into conversation when I pick up women. They never believe me at first, but they always want to believe. Now I can prove it by showing them my picture at my oldest brother Dylan’s wedding on Villroy. Women go crazy in excitement when they see that, inevitably asking to visit the palace.

I catch her looking at me. Her lashes flutter down and she turns back to her sister. She was checking me out. I straighten my shoulders, my chest puffing out. But then I remember her vulnerable state earlier. I need to be her heroic protector friend.