Double Team: A Menage Romance Read online

  “Like I said, you’ll beg me to hit on you.”

  Belle rolls her eyes. “I’ll do no such thing,” she says. “Just because we had one kiss doesn’t mean that anything else is going to happen between us.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Belle,” I say. “But we both know you’re thinking about my lips on your lips.”

  She shrugs. “It was no big deal,” she says. “I’ve had better kisses.”

  “I wasn’t talking about those lips,” I say, looking down.

  Her eyes go wide again. “We did not do anything like that,” she protests.

  “We didn’t,” I say. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about it. And we both know you’re lying about having had better kisses. I looked up your ex-fiancé. I saw photos of him. He wasn’t lighting your world on fire.”

  “You have no idea what my kisses have been like,” she protests. "Or my love life. At least mine has been tame enough that I don't have to worry about any fires down there."

  "Is that your clumsy attempt to insinuate that I've got some type of VD, luv?" I ask.

  "I told you I looked you up," she says. "You have a revolving bedroom door. That's what the magazines say."

  I lean closer to her. "Don't worry, Belle," I whisper. "I'm clean as a whistle. You could even have me bare, if you like."

  "Oh my God," she says. "That is not what I was implying."

  "Hey, you're the one who keeps bringing up my cock," I say, enjoying the appalled look on her face.

  "I am not bringing up your…" Belle's voice drifts off, and she glances over her shoulder and down the hallway. "Penis."

  "Penis," I say, laughing. "That's sexy. You can say the word, luv. Cock. Admit you can't stop thinking about it."

  "I am not going to admit it," she says, groaning in frustration. "I can't even remember why I came down here now. I should have known it was a mistake."

  She whirls around before I can stop her, and flounces off in the direction of her room.

  10

  Belle

  "This is so bizarre, and yet so exactly a Kensington kind of story," Raine says, her voice partially muffled on the phone as she turns to tell someone in the room to "hold on a minute." Raine did a stint in Africa, volunteering with another aid organization for six months while I was there. She's a free spirit, a hippie chick traveling across Europe with her boyfriend – and exactly the kind of outside perspective I need on all of this.

  "Wait, why is this a Kensington kind of story?"

  "Seriously, isn't this right up your family's alley?"

  "We're not royalty," I say, dropping my tone to a whisper. "It's insane."

  "But you're like, a real fucking princess," she says. "Soon to be, anyway."

  "Yeah, right," I say. "That's the last thing I want to be. And you can’t tell anyone, Raine. They haven’t made an announcement yet.”

  "Phoenix," she says, laughing as she calls for her boyfriend. "Belle is living in a castle. Like, for real. With a king and shit."

  "Shh," I say, cutting her off. "Seriously. That's not public knowledge. They're probably listening to my phone calls or something. I don't even have my passport."

  "They're keeping you prisoner?" she squeaks. "That's fucked up, Belle. You're an American citizen."

  "Relax," I say. "I think it just got misplaced or something when they unpacked my bags, maybe. I have to go to the embassy and get a new one.”

  "Do you want Phoenix and I to come pick you up?" she asks. "We're in Amsterdam for a few days. Protrovia wasn't exactly on our tour, but we're flexible."

  "It's okay," I say. I can't even imagine the shitshow it would be if Raine and her boyfriend showed up at the palace. I adore Raine, but the thought of her walking inside the palace, reeking of patchouli and weed and admonishing the royal household for their gratuitous wealth, is enough to make me giggle. "Maybe it's good that I'm here for a little while. Derek has texted me about a million times."

  "What?" she asks. "Screw that. Your ex-fiancé cheated on you with your maid of honor. You didn't respond, did you?"

  "Of course not," I say. "I'm just saying that maybe it's good I'm not in the States right now. Maybe I should be here for a little while."

  As I speak the words, I start to realize I might actually be considering staying for the summer.

  "Protrovia," she says. "Isn't that the place – Phoenix, who's that prince, the one who's always in the news? Albert. Prince Albert. I remember his name because of the whole dick-piercing thing. Is he gorgeous? Are they all ridiculous?"

  I groan. I haven't breathed a word about Albie to anyone. Not a single soul knows what happened in Vegas except Albie and I, and it's staying that way. "Yeah, I mean, I haven't really seen him much. I just got here. And, yeah. It's all pretty ridiculous."

  "He's the prince with the pierced cock, you know," she says. "Have you ever screwed a guy with a piercing? It's pretty fantastic." She pauses, then laughs and whispers to her boyfriend. "Yes, Phoenix, I'm talking about you."

  "No, I haven't done it with a guy with a pierced you-know-what." I sigh. I called the one person I thought would have never heard of Prince Albert, and she knows all about him and his pierced cock.

  "Well, you should," she says. "In fact, he’s what you should do while you're there. Shake off the cobwebs. You need a fling. Rebound sex."

  "I do not need rebound sex," I protest.

  Raine's voice comes back muffled. "No, Phoenix, remember, I told you her fiancé cheated on her." She pauses, then returns to the phone. "You know how Phoenix feels about marriage. And lawyers. He says good riddance to Derek."

  "I can't believe you're telling me to hook up with a prince," I say.

  "It's not like I'm telling you to marry him," she says. "Just have a good ol' fashioned fling. Hasn't he slept with half the women in Europe, anyway?"

  "He's my new stepbrother," I say. I fail to mention the part where I've already married him.

  "That makes it even more appropriate," she says, laughing. "Don't all the royals marry their cousins and siblings? Hey, I have to go. We're having lunch with some other people from the hostel. Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yes, go," I reassure her. "I'm totally fine.”

  "Fling," she says, laughing as the background in her room is suddenly filled with conversation. "Go have a fling. It'll be good for you. When is the last time you had casual sex?"

  The phone cuts off before I can answer. Never, I think. I've never ever had a fling.

  But that doesn't mean I'm going to start by screwing the biggest manwhore in Europe.

  "Knock knock."

  I whirl around to see Albie pushing open the wall panel in my room. "Are you kidding me with this popping-out-of-secret-passageways bullshit?" I ask. "You have no right to push your way into my room like this. I should scream for security."

  Albie raises his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, luv," he says. "I come in peace. And I knocked on the wall. Twice. You didn't hear me?"

  "Barging into my room through the passageway? Yeah, that's totally peaceful. And not at all completely creepy."

  "I came in this way for a reason," he says, giving me an impish grin that immediately grates on my nerves. He flashes that grin around like it gets him out of everything. And the truth is, it probably does.

  But not with me. Not even if the way he looks at me makes me want to drop my panties right this second.

  “And you’re going to head right back out the way you came in,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and giving him my best glare.

  “I come bearing a gift,” he says. “Ben – my valet – found your passport. The footman never unpacked it from your bag.” He hands it to me, and I turn it over, feeling simultaneously grateful and skeptical.

  “Why didn’t he bring it to me?” I ask.

  “Because I asked him to find it, and he mentioned he did,” Albie says. “Besides, I know that last night you said no tours, but I came to change your mind. I�