Royal Fake - Page 9

The theme was controversial but understood and well received. The donations were pouring in as often people were desensitized to the misery of others and while this was a fun event, the message was as loud as it was subtle.

“Well, it was fierce. I’ll be donating for sure. And I’m pretty sure your Guinness is disgusting by now. You want me to order you something else? Something you actually like?” His eyes twinkled and smirked.

“A glass of red wine would be nice.” I bat my eyelashes and tried to send him telepathic messages… Have sex with me. Take me home. Don’t leave me this way.

With the steamy smile that crossed his face, I could have sworn he had heard me. He turned to his friends and addressed them. “Lads, I’m dragging this fine lass to a place where we can hear ourselves better. We might be a while. Can I catch up with you later tonight at my suite, say ten-ish? I’ve got plenty of scotch, more Guinness, some crisps and bits and bobs to snack on.” He was so charming, even though his friends needed no enticing. Every one of them were nodding and affirming their attendance. As they did, I secretly hoped I’d be invited to the soiree as well.

“Right, meet up soon then.” I waved to them as his hand rounded the small of my back and he moved us toward the bar. “Let’s get you a glass of wine.”

My heart was exploding. Just his touch sent me through the roof—damn it had been much too long. We reached the bar and I ordered my wine while he had a scotch on the rocks. He then shuffled me into a dark quiet corner. I hadn’t really considered there’d be a quiet space amidst the schmoozing and mingling, but there it was behind the bar in a small nook with a few guests speaking softly. I was relieved to be away from the madness. I’d done my thing, talked to almost everyone, so it was time for a well-deserved retreat.

“So, Avery,” Liam began. “What inspired all of this?” He waved his hand gently.

The intense look on his face seriously fired up my pussy. I doubted he was asking about the fashion or if he was, perhaps wanted to know why there was so little of it in places.

“St. Patrick’s Day,” was my sultry reply.

“Do you have an affinity for my homeland? It seems you’ve outdone yourself tonight.” His head cocked with seduction.

“I do. I’ve always loved Ireland and being half Irish or I guess an eighth anyway, I have felt a connection.” I bat my eyes and flirted knowing how ridiculous I must have sounded and looked.

“And so, you put the models in tatters and had them walk to Riverdance? I mean it was novel and very sexy, but our ‘clans’ have things like the internet now. We don’t just drag each other about to bump and grind.” He laughed and I worried for a moment the show had insulted him. “But I loved it. An Irishman couldn’t have done better.”

“Or an Irish woman?” The arrogance of foreign men sometimes.

“Well an ‘Irish’ woman did, didn’t she?” God, those smoldering eyes. “You mixed the old with the new and made a poignant social statement, that is very hard to do.” I think I finally breathed. “I’ll make sure to donate generously before we leave as I mentioned.”

“How long are you staying in the States?” I asked, sipping my wine hoping he wasn’t hopping on a plane the next day.

“A while.” Damn, why was he being so vague? “So, are you interested in joining me and my mates this evening for a nightcap? Rodrick is a bit of a musical genius; he’s playing some new songs. He’s well-loved in Ireland; it’ll be a treat.” His hand reached out to mine. “And I’d like to get to know you better.”

I didn’t care if it might only be one night, it would be one wonderful night.

“Yes, that sounds lovely.” I melted and wished I could have just thrown off my clothes and had him take me right on the table… if only his clan did drag people about like they had before civilization… my pussy clenched a little tighter at the thought.

“Will you be missed if you sneak out?” The devil colored his eyes.

“No, I’ve talked to everyone I need to. I don’t like it when people fawn anyway, ditching out at the end of the event is sort of my signature.” I finished my wine and stared with expectant eyes.

“Shall we go to my suite then? I’m just upstairs.” By the way, he was looking at me, I could have sworn he said, ‘Would you like to come up to my suite in the most expensive hotel in Manhattan and fuck me silly?’

Tags: Sarah J. Brooks Romance
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