Rogue Devil Read online

  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. If denying my natural urges isn’t heroic, then I don’t know what is. Someone give me a medal.

  The courses arrive one after the other—lobster, stuffed goose, mashed potatoes (also with lobster), Brussel sprouts, and some kind of vegetable I don’t recognize. I join in the conversation, joking around with my brothers and occasionally lowering my voice when my dad sends me a pointed look meant to remind me of my manners. I can get loud sometimes. My dad is a stickler for manners because of his strict royal upbringing. Even through all that, my attention returns to Chloe again and again. Every time I catch her eye, she looks away. I know she’s sneaking looks at me too. I can feel it.

  After a delicious dessert called a Noel log, we’re invited back to the parlor for brandy by the fire. I like the parlor, it’s the most comfortable room in the palace with its leather sofas and club chairs, but first I need to know if Chloe’s going to be there. I really do want to check in with her.

  She darts out the dining room door before anyone else, and I follow her.

  “Hey, Chloe, are ya heading to the parlor for drinks?”

  She turns and shakes her head. “I don’t drink.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not twenty-one yet.”

  Didn’t I say she was like an angel? I’ve heard drinking is real popular with the college crowd.

  I close the distance, my lips curving into a small smile. “This is Villroy. Legal age to drink is eighteen.”

  She crinkles her adorable nose. “No, thanks.”

  “Well, you don’t have to drink. Everyone’s just gonna be hanging out. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Her green eyes search mine. “Are you, like, hitting on me?”

  Man, I suck at this friend thing.

  Heat creeps up my neck. “No. What? No. Why would you say that?” I gesture down the hall. “I was just wondering if you were joining us.”

  She studies me for a long moment.

  Did I protest too much?

  “Okay,” she says. “I’m going back to my room now.”

  “Why?”

  “To read medical journals.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. I thought she was in college. She’s already reading medical journals? Isn’t that what doctors do?

  I stare at her. “Are you going to be a doctor?”

  She nods. “I plan to be a medical researcher and cure cancer.”

  I gape for a moment. I can’t help it. It’s not just because it’s such a noble cause. It’s the way she says it, plainly, matter-of-factly. “Wow. Okay.”

  She lifts her chin. “It’s important work.”

  “No question.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “But did ya ever hear all work and no play makes for a dull brain?”

  She scowls. “Did you just call me dull?”

  I grin. “Not you, your brain. You have to take time off to keep your mind sharp.”

  More of my family spills into the hall, talking and laughing. I glance over my shoulder at them and turn back to her. “So maybe we could do something besides drinks in the parlor. Something fun.” I want to spend time with her, whether or not it leads to anything more. She’s just so different from the women I usually meet. And I want to hear her story, what really happened today that had her showing up in my room looking like she was tossed from a moving vehicle.

  “Something fun,” she echoes, her brows knitting as if she has to think hard about it. I almost want to laugh. Who thinks hard about having fun?

  Her sister appears with baby Henry asleep on her shoulder. “Hi, Brendan.” I met her at her wedding to my cousin, though somehow I missed Chloe at the time. Probably because that wedding was the first time in decades our family showed up on Villroy after my dad was banished. Tense times.

  “Hey, Sara. Looks like your little guy conked out early.” Henry’s mouth hangs wide open.

  “Aww,” Chloe says, stroking his cheek and then kissing it. Something in the vicinity of my heart shifts.

  Sara smiles at the baby and then gets serious as she lifts her gaze to Chloe. “I’m going to put him to bed. Me too. I’m still up at least three times a night with him. I just wanted to check in with you. Are you doing okay?” She sounds very motherly and concerned.

  Chloe glances at me, looking embarrassed. “I’m fine.” Her voice is tight.

  “You sure?” Sara presses. “I don’t mind if you want to come back to my room for a bit to study.”

  Chloe shakes her head. “No, you need your sleep. I’m okay.”

  “Really?” Sara asks.

  Chloe exhales sharply. “I was just about to do something with Brendan.”

  Sara looks between us for a moment curiously before taking a step back. “Okay, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” She heads down the hall.

  Chloe stares at the marble floor, her brows knit together in a scowl. Nothing like a big sister/mom to get your feathers ruffled, I guess.

  I dip my head to meet her eyes and smile. “I’m all yours, party girl.”

  3

  Chloe

  It’s so embarrassing the way Sara checks in on me over and over. I’m fine. And we had a long talk earlier, where I told her that. I’m grateful for what she’s done for me, but I’m old enough where I need her more as a sister than a mom.

  I meet Brendan’s gaze. His brows lift over bright blue eyes—such a startling blue it’s hard to look away—his expression expectant. I tear my gaze away from those hypnotizing eyes, but I can’t quite look away from him completely. His dark brown hair is longish on top and tousled, probably soft to the touch. His hair combined with his neatly trimmed beard and devilish smile give him a rakish look. I got that rakish thing from my sister-in-law’s historical romance books. I read one just to see what the fuss was about with all her awards and bestseller status. And I bet Brendan’s a rake, always on the lookout for his next conquest.

  Before this goes any further, I inform him, “I’m not looking for a hookup. Just so we’re clear.”

  His lips twitch. “That would be like kissing my cousin. So wrong.”

  I stiffen. I could’ve sworn he was checking me out earlier at dinner. I look away, my cheeks heating. I feel like a total wiener, assuming he was into me. He must’ve been looking at me at dinner because I kept checking him out. I didn’t want to. He’s just, well, any woman with a pulse would notice how sexy and gorgeous he is, even more so than all the other Rourke men because his eyes sparkle and he’s always ready to smile. He looks like a good time in every way. My blush spreads to my neck at the thought. I’m not going there.

  He leans down to my ear, his breath fanning hot over my skin, making a shiver rush down my spine as he whispers, “Let’s be friends.” Only it sounds like let’s hook up.

  But that’s just my mind playing tricks on me. The words are so at odds with my body’s reaction to him I’m thrown off-kilter.

  He draws back, a small smirk on his face and a knowing look in his eyes. “Or you could always hang with your big sister. She seems pretty concerned about you.”

  That does it. I don’t need my sister/mom hovering over me, making sure I’m okay. And just to prove it, I’m not going directly back to my room to study. I’m going to do exactly what I said I would. Hang with this guy, who sees me as a platonic friend. Or cousin. Great. Fine. It. Will. Be. Fun.

  “Come on.” I jerk my head for him to follow. I step past the dining room, heading for the tower room down the hall. I can hear people still talking in the dining room, slow to leave. Eventually they’ll all be in the parlor, but I’m not in the mood for a crowd.

  Halfway to the tower room, I slow my step. Michael is walking toward us, his short blond hair and gray T-shirt damp with sweat. He was probably working out in the gym downstairs.

 
“Where are you taking me?” Brendan asks, oblivious to the upcoming confrontation.

  I can’t seem to find my voice. Michael’s gaze bounces from me to Brendan and back, his brows drawing down.

  “Earth to…” Brendan trails off as Michael stops in front of me.

  A muscle works in Michael’s jaw. “Thank you for the cookies.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He gets in Brendan’s face. They’re about the same height and build—six feet of broad-shouldered muscle—but Michael is trained to disarm, disable, and destroy if necessary. My heart’s in my throat. Brendan holds his ground.

  Michael grinds out between his teeth, “Touch her and die.” He straightens and salutes Brendan. “Joking. It’s my duty and an honor to protect the Rourkes.” He drops his hand and marches off like a soldier. It’s funny but not.

  I resume walking toward the tower room, not sure what to say after that.

  “So that wasn’t disturbing at all,” Brendan says under his breath.

  I give him a sideways look. “He’s a palace guard. My ex.”

  “So you brought a trained assassin cookies?”

  “You’d want to stay on his good side too, wouldn’t you?”

  He stops, suddenly serious. “Has he threatened you? Would he hurt you?”

  “No. The royal family made him captain of the guards. If they trust him, why wouldn’t I?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t trust him farther than I can throw him.” He grins, his eyes sparkling devilishly. “You, on the other hand, I could trust really, really far. You’re so tiny.” He mimes throwing me a distance like a football, letting out a long whistle as I presumably soar through the air.

  I huff and continue on to the tower room. “I’m not tiny. I’m petite.”

  “I so want to toss you through the air—to a soft landing place, of course—but your ex would kill me if I touched you, so that’s out.” He shakes his head like he’s annoyed, a smile tugging at his lips.

  “Throwing me was never a possibility, you nut.” I don’t think Brendan is ever serious. I mean, Michael basically just threatened him and he took it in stride. I’m a little nervous about the whole thing. Not for me, for Brendan. The poor guy is just being friendly. He doesn’t even think of me like that.

  I head to the back of the tower room and use both hands to pull open a wooden bookcase that doubles as a door to a secret passageway.

  Brendan’s eyes go wide, and then he gives me a warm appreciative smile. “Very cool.”

  I smile back. It almost feels like he thinks I’m very cool too. Something I’ve never been accused of. I slip inside and walk down a sloped stone passageway with low ceilings. The light is dim, just what’s filtering in through the open doorway.

  Brendan pulls his phone out of his dark blue blazer and turns on the flashlight. I watch his expression as he takes in the hallway. Sara showed me this place. It used to be an escape route to the side exit of the palace, a form of defense, but now it’s a storage area.

  “What are these?” he asks, shining a light on a stone sculpture. “Cupids?”

  “They’re cherubs.” The hallway is filled with them, mostly hung on the wall, some of them leaning against it. “They were part of an older section of the palace that was removed after the great fire.”

  “This is so cool.”

  I follow him as he shines his light on more cherubs, some of them broken but still cute, as we move farther down the hall. A sense of peace comes over me. It’s fun to show off a part of the palace few know about, and I love these cherubs with their sweet chubby faces just waiting for visitors to admire them once again.

  Brendan turns to me, lowering his phone so the light’s not in my eyes. “I had no idea any of this was here. Did your ex show you this?”

  I deflate. “No, my sister. Can we not talk about my ex? It’s kind of a touchy situation.”

  He curls his lip in a snarly face and growls, “Touch her and die.” Then in his regular voice, “Got it. Psycho ex.”

  “He’s just a little peeved because I turned down his proposal.”

  “Oh, shit. He proposed? That’s major. I thought it was more of a casual thing. No wonder he got in my face.”

  “Well, it was three months ago.”

  He cocks his head. “And how long were you accidentally in a relationship with him?”

  I cringe, hearing my own words come back to me. “Okay, here’s what you have to understand. It was off and on over the course of eleven months or so, only when I was here on school breaks.”

  “Eleven months! That’s an awfully long time for casual.” He grins. “It’s nice to meet someone worse at relationships than I am.”

  I tense, feeling defensive. “I was clear from the start I didn’t have space in my life for a relationship. I’m very focused on my studies. I’m in my second year at Columbia, one more to go, and then I’m heading to medical school. After that, there’s more training with a residency and a fellowship. I’ve got a long haul ahead of me.” I push my palm out. “I mean long haul. After I become a cancer researcher, then I’ll look for someone to settle down with.”

  He puts a hand on my arm. “Chloe, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I get it.”

  I calm down. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Also, what are you, a genius? Graduating Columbia in three years instead of four? And that’s a top school. Even the valedictorian of my high school was rejected from Columbia.”

  I lift one shoulder in a small shrug. “I’m just a hard worker.”

  “Right. So-o-o, do you know any more secret passageways?”

  “Just one more. It leads to the dungeon.”

  “Seriously? Let’s go see that.”

  I shake my head. “It’s gross. There’s spiders and I don’t even know what else crawling around down there, and it smells like creepy mold.”

  He laughs. “Never heard of creepy mold.”

  “You especially don’t want to go there at night. It’s cold and dark.” I cross my arms, fighting a shiver at the thought. “I think there’s bats too.”

  He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to hang here for a while?”

  “Yeah. Can I borrow your light? I left my phone in my room.”

  “Sure, but first I want something from you.”

  I still, suddenly wary.

  He laughs. “You look like I’m about to ask for your firstborn.” He reaches out and nudges my shoulder. “I just wanted to know how you ended up soaking wet, dirty, and shivering in my room earlier.”

  I lean against the wall next to him. Something about the intimate space makes it easier to share. So I tell him the whole ridiculous story—from cookies to planter to runaway car.

  He turns to me. “You cared that much about keeping the friendship?”

  “I felt bad that I hurt him.”

  “That’s damn heroic what you did.”

  “Nah.”

  “Yeah,” he insists.

  I exhale sharply. “Turns out friends with benefits isn’t really a thing. The friend part is fake.”

  He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to consider this, before finally saying, “You’re right. No guy wants to go back to being friends once they cross the line.”

  I straighten and hold out my palm for his phone. “Lesson learned.”

  He gives it to me, his eyes intent on mine. “You have a big heart.”

  “I do?” I feel hopeful for a moment, but then I realize he doesn’t know me well enough to see the real me, on the inside. Broken.

  “Hell yeah. You put in real time and effort making those cookies and getting them over there. You suffered to make amends. Only someone with a big heart would do all that. Most people would just walk away.”

  “Maybe I should have just walked away.”

  He chucks me under the chin. “Hey, nothing wrong with having a big heart. That’s probably what makes you want to cure cancer. You want to give back to the world.”
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  A warmth spreads through me. He’s right about one thing—it’s so important to me to give back. “Thanks.”

  He inclines his head.

  I turn away, using the light on his phone to go farther down the passageway, checking out cherubs on my way to my favorite sculpture of a pair of cherubs. I stop to admire them, forever frozen on either side of a stone buttress. They look like they’re peeking at each other. So close, yet so far.

  I cross to him and hand back his phone. “Thanks. I’m ready to go.” I lead the way out.

  “That’s enough fun, huh?” he says from behind me.

  I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s teasing me that I never have fun. “I’ll have you know I make time for fun with my roommate, Lindsey, every weekend and after finals.”

  “Oh, yeah? What do you do?”

  “Movie night, beauty night, sometimes we hit up the planetarium.”

  “Do you call that last one nerd night?”

  I press my lips together. I’ve heard that taunt plenty in my life. I’m not a nerd. I’m a serious student. There’s a difference.

  I wait until we’re back in the tower room, after closing the bookcase door securely behind us, to respond, “I prefer my friends to be less insulting.”

  He holds up his palms. “I meant nerd in the cool genius way. I do think what you’re aiming for is noble.” He gestures toward me. “Like a higher calling.”

  I breathe deep, pride making me stand straighter. “Thank you.”

  “What do you do on beauty night?” He glances at my nails. “You don’t seem to paint anything or wear much makeup.”

  I actually am wearing makeup, but it’s subtle. It’s kinda flattering that he thinks I just naturally look like this. “This last beauty night after finals I dyed my hair red. She dyed hers purple.”