Royally Bad (Bad Boy Royals #1) Read online

  In a masterful display of craftsmanship, the blinds snapped right off the window.

  Gasping, I jumped back before they smacked my feet. I was left standing there in the early sun, in nothing but a towel, with a broken string in my fist.

  In the apartment across the way, a baffled older man stared at me.

  Inhaling through my nose, I looked around my room for a solution. In the corner, next to some of my still-not-unpacked boxes, there were some sheets of cardboard. Grabbing one, I snatched up some of the packing tape and faced the window.

  Then my towel started to slip.

  With nothing but some cardboard between me and the stranger, I groaned loudly. Was this really how my day was going to go? Gritting my teeth, I quickly taped the most haphazard excuse for a curtain into place.

  Stepping back, I scooted the towel higher on my boobs and observed my work. About as good as the blinds were. I really needed to get out of this shitty apartment, but it was all I could find in my budget on such short notice.

  It wasn’t like I’d grown up having it easy, but we’d been middle class—comfortable. It was only when my dad died last year that things went to hell. There was no insurance policy, and what little money that had been squirreled away went straight to my mother’s doctors the sicker she grew.

  But that’s going to change. Twenty grand was enough to set things straight again.

  Scratching at my wet hair, I didn’t stop my towel when it fell to the floor that time. It was dark in my room now; that was fine, I didn’t need much light to find some clean clothes.

  By the time I managed to tug on some jeans and a black button-up blouse, it was crawling close to ten a.m.

  Stumbling into the tiny kitchen, I made up a quick pot of coffee. I hovered over it while it percolated, drumming my nails anxiously. It was still dripping when I yanked the pot out, pouring the black nirvana into my stallion-head-shaped mug.

  Sitting down, I took the biggest gulp ever. Fuck, that was good. That was what I needed.

  I was only twenty-three, but I was way too old to pull all-nighters. Weren’t people constantly talking about how important sleep was? Something about how every hour you lost took a day off your life?

  I was pretty sure I’d heard a doctor say that. A television doctor, but still.

  Tapping on my phone, I checked for directions to the address where Francesca wanted to meet. When my Google Maps told me the drive would take over an hour, I choked on my coffee.

  She lived in Newport? Damn, I hadn’t accounted for that in my timing. Scooping up the plastic-wrapped wedding dress, I set my mug gently in the sink. I was in a rush, but I was still careful not to chip the cup. It was my favorite one—a gift from my father.

  Throwing everything into the backseat of my weathered but treasured Dodge Avenger, I grimaced at the bright sun. It was just turning the corner into summer, the sky managing to be the sort of primary blue you found only in children’s toys.

  Fumbling in my glove box, I found a pair of oversize sunglasses. The bronze Guccis were an artifact from my time in New York, I’d bought them for myself as a gift for landing the job at Filbert’s Bridal.

  It was a heavy reminder of the comfortable future I’d thrown away. I did it for the right reason, I reminded myself. And besides . . . I just landed a twenty-k gig. That’s more than I made in four months at Filbert’s! Things are looking up for me.

  With determination, I slid the sunglasses onto my face and ground down on the gas pedal.

  When this job was over with, I’d buy myself something even nicer than my Guccis as a reward.

  This couldn’t be right.

  Flicking my eyes up, then back down to the map on my phone, I wondered what was going on. How had my GPS gotten so fucked up? Because it was fucked up. It had to be. That was the only explanation for why it had taken me here.

  The long, wrought iron gate spread like two linked arms in front of me. It was both intimidating and oddly pretty, the way an attacking hawk could be pretty. The mansion beyond was dazzling.

  I just couldn’t believe this was the right place. Then again, they DID pay a premium for that dress. Was it possible the Badds lived here? No, I couldn’t quite believe it. I’d watched people blow tons of money on weddings, it didn’t mean they were rich—just desperate.

  And this went beyond rich. This was the kind of estate the president would live in!

  Bouncing my skull into my headrest, I made a long, low noise. Why could nothing be easy for me? Now I was going to have to call up Francesca, tell her I’d be late, and ask her for better directions because I was freaking lost.

  Gritty, mechanical snarls filled the air. Black and gold, the motorcycle slammed to a stop next to my driver’s-side window. Throwing myself sideways in surprise, I gawked at the reflective helmet of the rider. I could see my own shock in the mirrored surface.

  Hard hands with oddly clean nails yanked the helmet away. “Sammy?” Kain asked, looking me over with amusement. “That you? I almost didn’t recognize you under those clamshells on your face.”

  Shoving the sunglasses up onto my scalp, I regained my composure. “Why are you here? Were you following me?”

  Kain stared—then he bent over, cracking up.

  Still laughing, he smoothed some of his hair. In spite of the helmet, the rich, mahogany strands were still styled. His bike rolled forward, his hand clicking something he slid from his pocket. In a grand gesture that was free of rusty squeaks, the gates spread open in front of us.

  “This,” Kain said, gesturing, “is where I live, darlin’.”

  Gazing at the tiled stretch of driveway in front of me, the green gardens, and the sprawling estate in all its glory . . . I had a single thought:

  Look on the bright side, you aren’t late for the meeting.

  Kain rode ahead of me, his bike purring with his low speed. I followed, marveling at the gorgeous landscape that could have been cut from an oil painting. The rose garden was a galaxy of pinks and reds, made brighter by the white of the mansion.

  Beyond the grassy field, I spotted a few structures. Squinting at them, my heart started to race. Were those stables? Did they have horses here?

  Pushing my sunglasses back onto my nose, so I wouldn’t look like a tourist, I set my mouth in a serious line. Francesca was rich, this whole family was rich. That was why they could throw twenty grand at me to rush a wedding dress.

  Understanding the situation I was in, I started to twitch. This wasn’t just intimidating, this was exciting. Maybe I could get a tour of the estate before this was over with.

  Kain parked his motorcycle in the corner of the driveway, where the giant spiral of stones reached its biggest curve. I stopped near him, unsure where else to go. In the long silence of the death of my engine, I filled my chest with air. It’s go time.

  Grabbing the dress, I pushed my door open and stepped out.

  Right into Kain’s chest.

  “Ah!” I gasped, bouncing back into the hard blockade of my car. He didn’t move an inch, not in body or his ever-present smirk. The air around us was crafted from the heavy scent of his leather jacket and the musky pine that was just naturally him.

  Kain leveled his wild eyes on me. I’d never felt so judged. Did I pass, did I fail? Did I care? Chuckling, he leaned sideways as if he had all the time in the world to loiter here. “You didn’t expect this, did you?”

  “This?” Waving around at the estate, I shrugged. “How could I?”

  His full lips slid closer to mine. “Then you really had no clue who I was when we met. I should have guessed you weren’t from around here.” His attention bounced to my sunglasses.

  I’d thought of them as protection; now they felt like an anchor. Bristling, I took them off, dropping them through the crack in my window. “For the record, I am from here. Born and raised, thank you very much.”

  He revealed the whites of his eyes. That was the first thing I’d said that had surprised him. Shocking a man like Kain felt good
. It didn’t last long, he stole my confidence with a casual trace of his finger down my shoulder.

  “Then you should’ve known what you were walking into, sweetheart.”

  It was a threat . . . it was a warning. Not appreciating either, I smacked his hand away and sidestepped him. “Back off, I’ve got business to get to.”

  Fingers coiled around my wrist, twirling me like a dancer. Thick pieces of my ponytail blinded me, my heart swinging up and out. Vertigo replaced every other sense.

  When I came back down to earth, Kain was holding me in his arms.

  It was a low back bend, my weight supported by him, my hair tickling the grass. His face was made from shadow, his smile no longer teasing me. This was the mouth of a hungry man, and I felt like the morsel he wanted to devour.

  We stayed like that for far too long. Long enough that I realized it was my fault we were still tangled together. Deep in the black-and-blue depths of his eyes, I watched Kain’s humor shift ever further.

  Before, he’d wanted to play with me. It had been a game with no stakes.

  But now . . . everything in his body, his breath, screamed, I want to have you.

  And I wasn’t ready for that.

  Pulling away, I tumbled to the ground. I grunted, but the brief pain was good; it jostled my senses back into place. Grabbing the wedding dress tighter, I stood, dusting grass from my jeans.

  I was about to whirl on him and tell him off. The way he straightened, seeming genuinely unsure of himself, stopped me. Kain blinked, then he scratched the back of his neck and turned away. “I better put my bike in the garage before someone else tries and fucks it up. Go inside, my sister is waiting for you.”

  He strutted away from me, moving with a swimmer’s grace in the body of a warrior. It was easy to forget how tall he was. Whenever he got close, he always made sure to bend down so we were nearly touching noses.

  My heart hadn’t calmed down; I clutched at my shirt, lost in a tornado of emotion. What the hell had just happened? What was that?

  There was a noise behind me. Glancing back, I saw the large doors of the mansion opening. Francesca ran my way, her arms wide. She was going to knock me over, my muscles were already weak from Kain’s assault.

  Throwing up my hands, I waved the dress like a flag. “Careful!” I cautioned. “I spent all night on this!”

  Pulling up short, she looked appalled. Then she started bouncing, hands clasped to her full and animated chest. “Aah! It’s here! You’re here! I can’t wait to put it on!”

  Francesca’s energy helped dissolve the last of the lingering unease brought on by Kain’s body pressing against mine. Swallowing around my dry tongue, I cleared my throat. I had to be on, this was my show—and the bride’s, of course. “You’re going to love it. Just ask my hands.”

  I meant to make her laugh, except instead, she darted her attention to the Band-Aids still wrapped on my fingertips. “Oh, shit! Hon, did you bust yourself up just for me?” Catching my wrists just as easily as her brother had, Francesca frowned.

  “It’s fine!” I made my voice lighter. “Really, focus on what matters—how great you’re going to look.”

  Half a second later, she was beaming. “Gawd, I can’t wait. Let’s go inside so I can see.”

  I’d never been inside of a mansion before. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. It made you feel small, and scared, and itchy with curiosity.

  The ceiling stretched so high they surely could have ridden a giraffe inside. Maybe several. My heels tapped on smooth-as-glass tiles, black with smoky gray weaving through it all. Two staircases curled upward, the white walls decorated with modern art and paintings of—probably—members of the family.

  As we passed a large portrait of several faces, I realized it had to be of the Badd family. I could spot Kain’s glittering grin from a mile away. There was Francesca standing beside him, and nearby, a large, hulking man I assumed was their father. And unless I was seeing things . . . was that two other brothers?

  It must have been a recent portrait; Kain looked similar to how he did now. I didn’t have time to study the painting closer because Fran was yanking me over the steps with increasing excitement. At the top of the stairs, she pulled me down a hall and threw a door open. “Here we are!” The bedroom inside was some horrific dream of golden glitter and pink crystal. A unicorn wouldn’t have been comfortable in there. “Isn’t it to die for? Now, let’s see that dress!”

  I unfurled it from the plastic dramatically. Clasping her cheeks, she squealed appropriately. Before I could ask her to undress, she was stripping down to her underwear. Francesca wasn’t the shy sort.

  On her ribs, just under her right arm, there was a small tattoo of a black-and-red crown. It was the only ink on her body. Resisting my urge to ask her about it, I guided the dress up her hips. “Once I have you in,” I said, “I’ll have to fix any spots that seem loose. I did my best to use the measurements I took from you at the store, but . . .”

  To my sincere amazement and delight, the dress clasped around her, snug.

  She stepped back, posing in front of her giant floor-length mirror. “Oh. Em. Gee. Sammy, it fits perfectly!”

  I couldn’t control my smile. “I mean, I’d have liked to adjust the length a bit more, and the hem isn’t as even as I prefer . . .”

  Her pursed lips shut me up. She lifted her hair off of her neck and admired the low-cut back. “I love it. I can’t wait till Midas sees me in it.”

  “Midas?”

  Francesca was oblivious to my reaction. “Midas Tengelico, the sexiest man in the world.”

  A funny thought wriggled through my brain. I couldn’t catch the tail of it before it got too far. I bet Kain is sexier. Sitting up straighter, I fidgeted. Where the hell did that come from?

  I knew the source; barely fifteen minutes ago, he’d spun himself around me like silk. His smell, his heat, his firm muscles . . . everything about him had sunk into my memory. Think about something else! But what could possibly take my focus away from Kain? Actually . . . I do have one nagging thought.

  Taking a look at Fran in her dress with a pair of new eyes, I asked the question that had been chewing at me. “Hey, sorry if this is too forward, but how do you earn your money?”

  “Why?” she asked, looking awfully offended. “What have you heard? Did some stupid girl say something about what I’ll do for the right amount, because I swear, it was just a rumor and—”

  “No, no.” Laughing, I pointed around her bedroom. “This place is a mansion. How does your family afford it?”

  Understanding flashed through her eyes, replaced by sharp suspicion. “Oh, that.” Gathering herself, she spoke with flat, indifferent ease—like she’d had to say this a million times. “My family runs a super successful maid service company, Badd Maids. It’s where all of our money comes from. All of it.”

  “Badd Maids,” I said.

  She stared me down. “Yup.”

  There was no way I believed her. But on some level, I wanted to. I liked Francesca; I didn’t want to slow down enough to consider that she might be involved in something less savory than the obvious lie she’d spit at me. But really, a cleaning service? That’s what had paid for all of this?

  As if talking would erase my nervous thoughts, I focused on Francesca. “All right, I get it. If you don’t want any tweaks to the dress, I guess I’m done here.”

  “What, you’re leaving?” Pouting, she grabbed her hips. “Stay for the dinner party! The food will be great, the music . . . the drinks! You can’t go yet, Sammy!”

  “I didn’t get much sleep.” An understatement. “And I don’t know your family well. I should go.”

  Could she pout more? How was she doing that? “Fine,” she sighed. Eyeing her reflection, she twisted, rubbing the corset. “Can you get me out of this?”

  With agile precision, I unstrung the ribbons and set her free. Then, with some pointless chit-chat and good-byes, I hurried out into the hallway. The soft ru
gs chewed at my flats as I power walked. Francesca was sweet to invite me to the party, but I had other priorities.

  Things like . . . getting as far away from Kain Badd as possible.

  I couldn’t pin down why he made me so nervous. Something about his energy threw me off; it made my mouth tingle and my tongue buttery. The sooner I get to my car, the sooner I don’t have to worry about him.

  That was all well and good.

  Except . . . I couldn’t find my car. I couldn’t even find the way I’d come inside! In my haste, I’d gotten turned around in the cavernous mansion. Perspiration pooled inside the dip in my throat, growing by the minute.

  Every corner looked like the last. Each hall was a mirror of another. Had I seen that painting before? Was that gray swirl in the floor new?

  Rounding into a passage with large windows, I spotted rich green grass, tall hedges outside.

  And a door.

  Yanking at it in relief, I threw myself out into the air. The midday sun was beating down, the sky empty of clouds. Shielding my eyes and wishing for my sunglasses, I studied where I was.

  The back of the house?

  All around me was a large field, the ground beaten by traffic in some spots. The scent of hay hit me before I saw the stables. With adrenaline flooding my veins, I looked on as a young woman guided a chestnut mare into a stall.

  The Badds really did have horses. I hadn’t imagined the stables when I’d driven up.

  Eyeing the large backyard, I noticed the curling tendrils of rosebushes to my right. That had to lead back to where my car was, I was sure I’d seen the garden from there.

  But I don’t want to get lost again.

  Debating with myself, I gave in to my secret desire. I loved horses, I’d ridden them when I was a child. I’d had to stop riding once I hit fourth grade; my father blamed it on money being tight.

  Approaching the stable, I slid my palm over the smooth grain of the support beams. The rich scent of animals and nature made me dizzy. “Excuse me?” I called.

  Instead of a face, big, bouncy curls of black hair poked around the corner. I saw the person they were attached to a second later. She peered at me from around the mare, and though her eyes were confused, her smile was friendly; it showed off her freckles. Was she my age? She felt . . . younger. “Hey there!” she chirped. “What can I do for you?”