Royal Shark (The Rourkes, Book 6) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Royal Shark

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Royal Shark

  © 2019 Kylie Gilmore

  Adrian

  I’m a gentleman and a card shark, so taking the lead on the new upscale casino on Villroy is a natural fit. I’m proud to run the place, especially given our flagging economy. Except, after a month in operation, it’s been proving to be more than one prince can handle. I need a right-hand man (or woman) to make this operation a success, and hundreds of jobs are counting on me.

  And then my twin, Silvia, gets in touch about Sara, a girl we were close to as children when her family summered in Villroy. Ironically, at twelve, we swore a solemn vow to marry when we were twenty-five. We’re now twenty-five.

  But that’s not why Silvia contacted me. Turns out that Sara, like me, loves poker, but now she’s in trouble, running a poker game in New York and upping the pot high enough to attract the wealthy underbelly of the city. Of course, I ride to the rescue with the perfect solution—a job, working for me.

  Except the stubborn woman won’t stop her game, won’t leave New York, and won’t leave her sister, who’s all grown up. Now I find myself wanting her for more than just business, unable to leave her in such a dangerous situation. But my kingdom is counting on me to make the casino a success.

  Something’s got to give.

  NEXT FROM KYLIE GILMORE

  Don’t miss Rogue Prince! There’s an excerpt at the back of this book.

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  Chapter One

  The Pact

  Thirteen years ago…

  Adrian

  “I bet you’re too chicken to race to the big rock!” The big rock is much farther than we usually swim. I rip off my T-shirt, tossing it on the sand. I’ve got her. Sara Travers can’t resist a bet.

  She stands in her blue swimsuit and plants her hands on her hips, making the bottom of her tank lift. “You wish, Adrian!”

  I stare at her smooth tanned stomach, and I get this feeling. I’ve been getting it all summer whenever her top lifts. It’s strange because it’s the same stomach and curve of lower back I saw last summer and all the summers before. It must mean I’m ready for a girlfriend like my older brothers. I am twelve, practically a teenager, and being the youngest, I’ve always worked hard to keep up with my four older brothers. Oscar told me it’s easy to get a girlfriend. As soon as they hear you’re a prince, they practically throw themselves at your feet.

  She marches up to me, her long blond hair swinging in a high ponytail, her green eyes flashing. “I bet I win the race, sucker!”

  Then again, I may have known her too long for the prince thing to have any effect. Me, Sara, and my twin, Silvia, have spent every summer together since we were eight. Sara’s father is from France and used to visit Villroy as a child. That’s why they rent a cottage here. Her mother is American, so they live back in New York City.

  I smirk. “Here’s the bet. When I win, you give me your cookies for the rest of the week.” Her mother bakes chocolate chip cookies and sends them in Sara’s packed lunch on beach days. We never get those at the palace. Sara only shares a tiny crumb normally.

  She crinkles her nose, the sprinkle of light freckles across it catching my eye. There’s seven freckles, my lucky number. “When I win, I want dibs on the front seat for the rest of the week.”

  Usually I get the front seat of the car because I’m the tallest at five feet nine. Silvia, Sara, and Sara’s little sister, Chloe, get the backseat. Our driver/guard picks them up and drops them off at their place. There’s a second car with another guard and Silvia’s maid, Marie, who is not a babysitter for us. Marie keeps an eye on Chloe, who’s a five-year-old terror.

  “Hi-yah!” Chloe shouts at the top of her lungs and then kicks her way through the sand castle that Silvia spent the last hour helping her make.

  “Chloe!” Silvia exclaims, plucking Chloe up and out of the way.

  “I’m Godzilla!” Chloe shouts, kicking wildly. Her ponytail band must’ve lost its grip because all I see is a crazy blur of blond hair.

  Sara shakes her head. “I told you she’d destroy it.”

  Silvia puts Chloe down, who goes right back to destroying the sand castle with wild kicks and karate chops. Silvia sighs. “I made it extra special, too, with a moat and everything.”

  “You wanna race me and Adrian?” Sara asks. “Winner gets the front seat.”

  “I’m going to read,” Silvia says and takes a seat under the white canvas cabana. Her dark brown hair hangs straight to her shoulders instead of in the neat bun our mother insists on. Lately, Silvia has been making “personal fashion choices” away from the palace. I’ll never tell. We’re closer than best friends, being twins.

  We’re on the north shore beach, which is great because of all the fish. Anyone could come here since it’s a public beach, but they usually go for the south side beaches closer to the port, where the public ferry comes in.

  “Come on,” I say to Sara, heading toward the water.

  “Don’t you think Silvia reads too much?” Sara whispers as soon as we’re a distance away. “I only read on rainy days and during school when they make me.”

  I lift one shoulder. My twin has always been a big reader. I like math a lot better; numbers always make sense.

  We wade in up to our knees, the waves splashing us. Sara turns to me, a gleam in her eye. She thinks she can win. “On the count of three.”

  I nod once.

  She narrows her eyes, looking at our goal, the big black rock. “One.”

  I crouch low, ready to dive under the waves.

  “Two.” Splash! She went on two!

  I dive in after her, swimming furiously to catch up to her. I should’ve known she’d cheat. She wants to win as bad as I do.

  I pull ahead easily. My arms and legs are longer, and my shoulders are bigger and stronger now that I had a growth spurt. I slow down, keeping pace with her so she’ll feel like she has a chance. I’ll pull ahead at the very last minute. Girls hate when you win by too much. My twin taught me that.

  I swim, keeping her in sight. Waiting…waiting…now! I pull ahead and claim the victory. I wait for her to lift her head and realize her loss before punching a hand in the air. “I won, you little cheater!”

  She treads water. “Your arms are longer. It wasn’t a fair race unless I had a head start.”

  “Mmm, can’t wait to eat all those cookies. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a chip.”

  “Joke’s on you. I can just eat some at home.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. It’s not as great a victory as I hoped. “Who cares? I still won.”

  We float in silence on our backs for a bit. She’s not like her little sister, always chattering. Thankfully.

  After a while, she straightens, treading water. I tread water too. I’m about to ask if she wants to go double or nothing on a race back to shore when she says, “I think my parents are going to get a divorce.”

  This is a shock. Whenever her parents join us on the beach, they always seem so happy, joking around and holding hands. “Why do you think that?”

  “They’ve been arguing a lot.”

  “About what?”


  Her lips form a flat line. “My dad wants to quit his job and start his own company. My mom says it’s not a good time.”

  “That’s not too bad. I’m sure they’ll figure it out. They still hold hands, right?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh.” I don’t know what to say. I hope she’s wrong. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I change tactics. “I bet you it’ll be fine. By next summer, they’ll be back to normal. I’ll give you my dragon cards if I lose the bet, which I won’t.” It’s my best playing card set, with detailed dragon illustrations on the back, which I know is her favorite.

  She tries to smile but can’t manage it. “Wanna race back? Double or nothing.”

  I grin. “I’ll even give you a three-second head start.”

  Her green eyes light up. “Go!”

  I watch her swim, counting extra slow.

  “Ah!” She jackknifes upright suddenly and then drops like a stone underwater.

  I swim to her, and she pops up again. “My ankle! It hurts so bad.” She starts to sink again.

  I grab her arm, keeping her above water. “Float on your back. What happened?”

  “I think I cut it on a rock.” She lifts her ankle above the water, and blood drips out of a gash in it. That looks really bad. “Oh my God! I’m going to bleed out, surrounded by sharks, who’ll eat my leg, and then I’ll drown!”

  I’m already thinking ahead to getting her to shore before she loses too much blood. “The sharks aren’t going to eat you. We don’t have sharks.”

  “Yes, you do! Sharks can go anywhere!”

  “Do the backstroke and try not to kick that leg too much. I’ll swim back with you.”

  “I’m scared,” she says in a small voice.

  “I’ll tow you.” I wrap an arm around her middle, prepared to pull her to shore.

  “No, I can do it. Just keep talking to me, okay? Distract me.”

  So I do. I swim freestyle with my head above water, telling her how much I want to go off island for school next year to get better teachers for math, how I want to go to Cambridge, which is the best for math, and how I’ll learn all about statistics, so I’ll always know the best odds and beat everyone at poker. My father taught me and my brothers to play poker when each of us turned seven because he thought it was a good way to learn numbers and people skills at the same time. I think he just wanted a game we could all have fun with. It was a father-son thing, but I taught my twin and Sara, too, so they’d play with me.

  “You’ll have to teach me all your best poker tricks,” she says weakly.

  Panic shoots through me. She never sounds weak. I fear she’s lost too much blood. “Almost there.”

  Finally, we get to a point where I can stand. I scoop her up and carry her to the beach.

  “Help!” I shout.

  My guard, Thomas, runs over and takes her from me. She stares at me over his shoulder, her eyes begging me to stay with her. I glance at her ankle, still dripping blood, and race for my T-shirt on the sand. I shake it out, turn it inside out, and then tie it over her ankle to stem the blood flow. She makes a strangled noise at the contact. Blood starts to soak through the shirt.

  “Oh!” Marie, our maid, exclaims as everyone gathers around Sara. “That’s going to need stitches.”

  “Stitches!” Sara exclaims. “No-o-o! Please no stitches!”

  Thomas rushes off with her in his arms, heading for the car.

  “I’ll get her mother,” Marie says. “Come on, everyone, we’re going to pick up Sara’s mother and meet them at the health clinic.”

  “Adrian!” Sara yells.

  I run to her. “It’s okay. It won’t be that bad.”

  Her eyes are so wide I can see the whites in them. “I don’t want a needle in my ankle! It’s already ripped open!”

  “You have to,” I say. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispers.

  “I won’t.”

  I climb into the backseat with her on the drive to the clinic. Thomas and Marie have a quick talk about whether or not Marie should ride in the back with us to apply pressure to Sara’s ankle, but Sara says she’ll do it. She doesn’t want anyone touching her injury. A moment later, we’re heading to the clinic, just me and Sara in the backseat, with Thomas driving. The others follow in the second car. Sara looks really pale.

  I do my best to make her feel better. “Oscar got stitches in his arm and it was cool. It looked like Frankenstein.”

  “I don’t want to look like Frankenstein!” she wails.

  I wince. “Not Frankenstein. Just cool. And it didn’t even hurt. They numbed his arm first.”

  “They did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like with a special numbing cream?”

  I debate what to say. Oscar said it was a huge needle. Finally, I say, “They can’t put cream on an open wound. It’s just a quick shot of medicine.”

  She grabs my hand and squeezes tight.

  I stare straight ahead. I’ve never held hands with a girl before. It kind of hurts.

  “Keep talking,” she says.

  “About what?”

  “I don’t care. I just like the sound of your voice.”

  It is deeper now. I lower it to an even deeper tone. “Remember when Chloe was two and she kept ripping off her swim diaper and leaping into the waves?”

  She laughs a little. “Yeah. My parents were so tired of trying to keep her safe and clean.”

  “And then she got sunburn on her butt.” I laugh. “That should’ve taught her a lesson, but she just wouldn’t stop.” I glance over to see Sara looking more relaxed, so I keep it up with the Chloe stories. There’s plenty of them, and it is pretty funny looking back. At the time, the three of us older kids just thought Chloe was a pain, distracting from the real plans for the day.

  A short while later, we arrive at the clinic and Sara is rushed inside, where her mother is waiting. I’m not allowed in the back room with her, so I follow Thomas to the car, hoping she’s okay.

  ~ ~ ~

  It’s the last day before Sara leaves Villroy. We’ve spent the last three weeks playing poker, either under the cabana on the beach or, on bad weather days, at the palace in the salon, which is my favorite room because it’s the most relaxed with a leather sofa. Sara could’ve went back to swimming after her stitches were out, but she didn’t want to go in the water. I think she’s afraid of it now. All she wants to do is play poker. We bet with Monopoly money, but the stakes feel real. We’re both competitive and both love to win. Sometimes Silvia plays with us or one of my brothers, but mostly it’s just me and Sara. We’ve been playing with my dragon cards, and I plan to give them to her as a gift to take home with her. She always admires them, and they don’t have anything like it where she’s from. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment.

  Silvia pokes her head in the cabana. “Chloe wants to ride bikes again. You coming?”

  “We’re in the middle of a game,” Sara says, studying her cards.

  “You’re supposed to be my best friend,” Silvia says tightly.

  I look up, and Silvia glares at me. “Sil, she’s both of our friends. What’s the big deal? She doesn’t want to go bike riding.”

  “Sara,” Silvia says through her teeth, “may I speak to you outside?”

  Sara stands, tucking her cards against her body so I can’t see them, and joins Silvia outside the cabana. I can still hear them. The cabana is canvas not actual walls.

  “I thought you were my best friend,” Silvia says.

  “I am your best friend,” Sara says. “I just don’t want to ride bikes. My ankle is still healing.”

  “Your ankle is fine,” Silvia snaps. “You rode earlier. Why don’t you just admit you like Adrian?”

  Interesting. I suspected as much. Ever since I helped Sara through her ankle injury, she’s been looking at me like I’m her hero. I did save her in a way, helping he
r keep a level head and safely get out of the water. Maybe she’s ready for a boyfriend. I’m definitely ready for a girlfriend. Only problem is I won’t see her for a whole year after this.

  “I do not,” Sara protests hotly.

  “Yes, you do. Ever hear sisters before misters?”

  “No.”

  “That means you don’t drop your friends because you like a boy.”

  “I don’t like him!”

  “Then why do you spend all of your time with him?”

  “We always invite you to play with us.”

  Silvia snorts. “I don’t like poker. It’s boring.”

  “It’s not. You can win big. It’s so fun!”

  “Win play money? Big deal.”

  Silence. A very long silence. Just when I think they’ve walked away, my sister pipes up.

  “Fine,” Silvia says. “Enjoy your stupid game with your boyfriend.”

  “I will!” Sara calls. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”

  She appears in the cabana, her cheeks flushed pink, and takes her seat. “I don’t know what her problem is.”

  “It’s a twin thing. She wants girls to spend more time with her than her boy twin, but sometimes the boy twin is kind of a hero.” I grin, and she laughs.

  We go back to playing. It gets quiet as everyone takes off on a bike ride.

  We play several hands until Sara wins the pot. She’s so happy she stops to count all her play money before hugging it to her, a huge beaming smile on her face.

  I find myself smiling back even though I lost. I really like seeing her so happy.

  Our eyes lock for a long moment before I return my attention to the cards. I’m pretty sure she likes me. I gather the cards into a neat stack and clear my throat. “Here.” I offer them to her. “A gift for your last day here.”

  She sets the play money down and stares at the cards and then at me. “That’s so nice, but I can’t take your cards. They’re special. You said you got them for Christmas.”

  “That’s why I want you to have them. You know they’re special and will take good care of them.” I press them into her hand, and her fingers close around them.

  “Thank you.” She takes a deep breath. “You are my hero, Adrian. When I cut my ankle, I could’ve been eaten by sharks, drowned in my own panic, or bled out on the beach, but you saved me. You helped me through a major freak-out, so thank you times a gazillion.”