Delta's Baby Surprise (Special Forces Elite 1)

He pushed the microphone from his lips and motioned for me to lean in.

“Yes?” My stomach lurched.

“His Royal Highness,” he whispered, cupping my ear with his hand.

I straightened my back. “Which one?” The royal family was huge. There were distant cousins and uncles. The family tree was a twisted spider web. He could be talking about a count or a duke.

“His Royal Highness,” he restated.

“Are you talking about the king?” Brooklyn blurted out.

“Shh.” He pinched her elbow. “Tenders are sealed. Don’t speak again.”

She rolled her eyes at him. It did seem ridiculous once we were vetted and inside the club that secrets had to be kept from each other.

“The king? The king was in the audience? And he bid on me?” I whispered quickly.

Two girls walked past us when the MC called another set of numbers. I didn’t notice if they heard our discussion.

“He has placed a formal tender which has been accepted and recorded. There are no bids,” he scolded. “Now we must go.”

I bit my lip. I was ill-prepared for this entire night, but facing the king had never occurred to me. That wasn’t supposed to be an option, was it? That was all Brooklyn’s fantasy. That we’d end up meeting a couple of the royal princes or maybe a couple of dukes. Really, she would have been happy with a B-list actor. The process thrilled her. The secrecy. The exclusivity of being a part of a fabled tradition. She was caught up in fairy tales and stories I hadn’t believed in until I was smack in the middle of one.

I was stuck in a chapter I couldn’t crawl out of.

Brooklyn hugged me. “Have fun. Be good.” She giggled. “I can’t believe you. And you didn’t even want to do this. Of all the members, you got him.”

“But I didn’t. I don’t,” I whispered.

“Come now. You must.”

I waved at Brooklyn, trying to steady my erratic pulse.

I was escorted through a dark passage. Luc’s headset crackled and sputtered the farther we walked.

“Careful, cher.” He guided me to a door. I may have tripped without his help.

My heart beat wildly. I felt frantic. Nervous.

“Do not forget your contract.”

I nodded. I couldn’t remember what was in it. Something about no pictures. No social media posts. I didn’t know the rest. My phone was at the apartment. I wasn’t allowed to bring it to the club.

“But what if—” I looked down to ask a question, but the funny man was gone. The hallway was black. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. My head was swimming. I tried to concentrate on breathing slowly. I was in too deep to back out now. I had to get it together.

I tried to retrace the chain of events that brought me here. One thing was certain. I never expected here to be a dark hallway, alone, waiting to be escorted to a contractually bound evening with His Royal freaking Highness. For the first time tonight, the shiver that ran up my spine might be excitement rather than panic.

My thoughts were interrupted when a green light flashed on the wall. Did that mean I was supposed to go through the door? I waited until finally it seemed ludicrous to stand in the hall any longer.

I took one last deep breath and twisted the knob in my palm. With a gentle push, the door swung open.

I expected a room. Maybe something with red velvety drapes and blue elephant paintings like in the Moulin Rouge. But there was nothing exotic or seductive about what was on the other side. The door was an exit to the back of the parking lot. I was met with dim street lights.

A long black car was parked a few feet in front of me. A driver stood, holding the rear door.

“Mademoiselle,” he greeted me quietly.

I stepped forward.