Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
But I know what I’m here for, and my blood pressure rockets as I approach the VIP area. At the end of the tee boxes is a stall occupied by none other than Albert Ray himself, along with my gorgeous girl. The blood begins to boil in my veins because Martha’s hands-down the most beautiful woman here tonight. She’s wearing a short, white pleated skirt that stops mid-thigh, paired with a pink polo top that hugs her big breasts. Long tan legs, and a cute pair of white sneakers finish the look, and she’s got her curly hair tied into a jaunty ponytail. In other words, she’s completely fuckable and I’m the man who plans on doing the job.
Yet they don’t notice us approaching at first. Martha and her date are laughing and chatting as they take swings at the ball, and I note with a rueful expression that this Albert kid is actually quite good-looking and athletic. He appears to be one of those cocky frat types, with a powder blue polo with the collar popped up around his neck. Not only that, but the underside of the collar reveals the word “Ray” in gothic script. Clearly, the boy’s proud of his family’s success and not afraid to show his allegiance.
Still, this is a weird scenario because Martha’s a whore while Albert Ray is clearly a member of the Lysenian upper class. I had no idea that the Ray men were into bringing working girls out into the open, but then again, rich men are unpredictable when it comes to beautiful women. I know I am, at least.
But there’s business to be conducted, and finally, we’re upon them. The two don’t even look up at first because they’re so busy with their flirting and conversation. Grimly, I see Ray Junior eyeing Martha’s curvaceous figure, and he looks ready to stroke a creamy thigh and attach himself to a nipple, given the chance.
“Martha,” I growl. “A word?”
Her brown eyes flicker up from where she’s lining the ball up at the tee, and a breathy gasp escapes her lips.
“Haakon?” she asks in a faint voice. “What are you doing here?”
Albert looks up, just as stunned.
“My prince?” he asks. “Um, was there something wrong with that trade agreement we just signed?”
I manage a fake smile at the boy.
“No, not at all,” I say in a smooth tone. “If you’d just give me a second with Martha here.”
Albert shoots the brunette a confused look.
“Martha? I thought you were Matilda.”
The pretty girl blushes all the way to her hairline.
“Martha’s just a nickname I use sometimes. Give me a sec, Albert. I’ll be right back, I promise.” Then, she smiles prettily at me, although those brown eyes are shooting sparks. “A word, my prince?”
I grasp her elbow, leading the curvy girl away.
“What the fuck is going on?” I hiss beneath my breath. “Why are you hanging out with this limp-dicked loser?”
She’s just as angry, trembling beneath my touch as I hustle her into the clubhouse. From there, we make a left into the private quarters reserved for my family, and I slam the door behind us. We’re in an elegant lounge with a chandelier in the sitting room, luxe furniture, and plenty of golf equipment for the royal family to use. None of it interests me, however. Instead, I turn to the beautiful woman.
“And what’s this thing about Matilda? I thought your name was Martha.”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“Not everyone uses their real name, you know,” Matilda spits. “Being a whore isn’t exactly something you want the world to know about. I’m surprised you even thought Martha was my real name.”
I stare at her.
“Most whores I know use names like Candy or Jewel in my experience, so yeah, I thought Martha was your real name.”
The beautiful brunette has the temerity to roll her eyes at me again.
“Well, my real name is Matilda, although it’s none of your business. Just FYI, I have an actual life outside of the House of Silk, so I’m not a full-time whore. Besides, what are you doing here? I’m not on the clock right now!”
I stare at her.
“Nerilda told me you were with a client.”
Matilda rolls here eyes again with exasperation.
“She lied. Albert isn’t a client, he’s a real date. He’s a family friend, in fact, and he’s probably wondering why the heir apparent just hustled me off without another word. I need to get back to him. Remind me to talk with Nerilda too. That woman must have spies everywhere, and I don’t appreciate being monitored in my real life.”
Matilda makes for the door, but I move quickly to stand in front of her, blocking the way with my huge form.
“Not so fast,” I rasp, blue eyes burning. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Matilda’s brown eyes flash.
“Haakon, what is your problem? I don’t owe you anything. Our dalliance was a one-time thing, and you’ve already paid the fee, so we’re finito. A service was provided, money exchanged, and it’s a done deal.”