“Can you deal with him?” he said to Shep as though I was a problem he was over.
Shep’s eyes cut back to mine, and he gave a curt nod. Jean brushed by him, slamming the door in his wake, and as the echo of it thundered off the wall, I grimaced.
“I’m not sure, but I think I pissed him off.”
“Seems to be a habit of yours.” Shep slipped his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants, and my eyes shifted to the perfect fit of them across his trim hips.
I took a drag of the cigarette, and the crackle of it popped in the room. “And what would you know about my habits?”
“That you have too many bad ones,” he said as he walked into the small room. “This included.” Shep reached for the cigarette and stubbed it out in the glass before arching his brow. “Want to tell me what that was about?”
Shep was, in a way, second-in-command of the Libertines—my boss, you could say. Not that the seven of us played by many rules, but someone had to keep our group of billionaire visionaries in line. After all, using our deep global connections to wield our influence and power wasn’t an easy, or safe, task. Probably why I had been drawn to King’s proposal to join him in the first place all those years ago. Royal duties were one thing—an incredibly boring, but well-connected thing—but playing masked vigilante in the shadows was far more entertaining.
Even if it was with Shep, who was wound tighter than a drum with that steely exterior that made me want to poke at him.
“I didn’t sleep with the bride, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Would you be fucking serious for once in your life?”
“Why? You’re busy being serious enough for the both of us. Lighten up,” I said with false joviality. “We’re at a wedding. This is meant to be a joyous occasion.”
“One that’s going to be broadcast globally. You need to pull yourself together.”
I gritted my teeth and turned toward the window in an effort to curb my tongue, but why should I? Everyone seemed to think it was okay to tell me what to wear, how to act, and what to feel today. “Is that an order from you or the illustrious King?”
“I didn’t think you had a king in Monaco.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the all-too-serious expression on Shep’s handsome face. No wonder everyone wanted a fucking photo of it. Even scowling he looked like a model with that sculpted jaw and full lips.
“Not thekingI was referring to.” Shep’s shoulders stiffened slightly, and I scoffed, “Ah, I see. This is aboutyourKing.”
Irritation rolled off Shep as he angled his chin up an inch, then did his best to look down his perfect nose at me. “I don’t have a king either.”
“Uh huh.” I chuckled. Seemed I was two for two in pissing people off today. “You keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
I went to turn back to the window, but Shep grabbed hold of my arm and spun me back to face him.
“Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but you need to get your head in the game. Your brother is about toget married. That might not mean a lot to you, but it sure as shit means a lot to the rest of the world.”
“And King,” I added, just to get under his skin.
“What?”
“It also means a lot to King. Not the marriage part, but the part where I behave myself. That’s why he sent you, right?”
“I was invited.”
“An invitation you would’ve declined ifKinghadn’t asked you to come and watch me.”
I was right, and we both knew it. This wedding was a world-class affair. There were heads of state, prime ministers, presidents, and other royals, and King would expect me to put my best foot forward and mingle with the higher-ups. So would my parents, but they were used to my disappointing them.
King, on the other hand, was used to my reluctant obedience.
Shep’s jaw began to twitch as he glared down at me, the fingers on my arm tightening as he yanked me in a little closer.
“He didn’t ask me to watch you.”
I knew I should shut my mouth, hold back the caustic remarks I wanted to spit out. But my rage and frustration had been building all week, and this was just the icing on the damn cake.
