Kyra opened the door, and before she could say anything, he pushed just inside.
“Kyra, please, I can explain, I promise,” he said and took her hands into his. In spite of herself, she loved the feel of his skin on hers, wanted to kiss him even though he was a player by all accounts.
“You seem to make a lot of promises, Marcus, but according to your last fling, you can’t keep them.”
Marcus’s face twisted, and Kyra realized her words had hit hard.
“I never promised any of those things. I didn’t even know Marta was engaged—I didn’t find out until the tabloids splashed it around, and we haven’t been in contact since,” he said. “The affair with Marta was a stupid mistake, but I don’t regret it.”
His words were a slap in the face. He didn’t regret it? “Oh, really?” she asked, crossing her arms defensively.
“No, I don’t,” he said. “It led me to you. If I hadn’t messed up, my father never would have forced me to work on the women’s shelter, and I never would have met you.”
Kyra’s shoulders relaxed, and when he pulled her close, she let him. Why did life have to be so complicated? Her feelings for Marcus were strong, but so were her doubts. She wanted to embrace his earnest desire to be a part of her life, their baby’s life, but the last thing she wanted was to be plastered on the cover of gossip mags every other week. There was also the matter of her heart. If Marcus was the Casanova the media made him out to be, she didn’t want to risk getting too close and then getting hurt.
“Will you give me the benefit of the doubt, please?” he whispered into her ear.
She looked up at him and breathed a deep sigh. “This is a lot for me,” she admitted. “I’ve never had my picture in the paper before.”
He laughed, but she knew he caught her message.
“I just need some time to digest all of this,” she continued.
“Fair enough,” he said and squeezed her hand.
“Why don’t you come in, and we can talk about the financial issues with the estate.”
“Sure,” he said, and they relocated to the couch.
Kyra brought her paperwork to Marcus to have a look at.
“It’s a fair amount of work, but with the right backing, it won’t be impossible to raise the funds needed for the repairs.”
Marcus set the papers on the coffee table in front of them and smiled at Kyra. “Oddly enough, I was able to schedule a meeting with a potential investor for tonight.”
“How’d you manage that so soon?”
“I had some time on my drive home today, so I reached out to an entrepreneur I thought would take an interest in the project.”
“That’s great, Marcus.”
He nodded and patted her leg then eyed her with hope. “Will you come with me?” he asked. “We’re meeting for dinner, and it would be great to have you join us.”
It was tempting. She wanted to spend time with him, but she really needed to distance herself from him for a bit, to wrap her head around everything that had happened today. Also, she was exhausted.
“Thanks for asking, but I’m going to have to pass,” she said. “I’m planning on having a movie night with my sister and Ava. They leave tomorrow.”
Marcus studied her face as if he wasn’t sure he believed her. Clearly disappointed, he nodded. “I understand. But is everything okay? With us?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said, not sure if it actually was or not. “Now go get the money we need to fix the roof at the estate.”
“All right,” he said and stood from the couch. “Tell Princess Ava goodbye for me.”
Marcus leaned in to kiss her, and she made sure it was just a brief brush on the lips.
“Goodnight,” she said and closed the hotel door behind him.
Marcus fought the urge to yawn as chatter and background music lit up the space around him at Dish, the busy, upscale restaurant where he waited at the bar for the potential investor. The scent of expensive cologne, perfumes, and piney gin filled up his senses. Usually, he enjoyed posh spots like this one, but tonight he was uncharacteristically tired—or maybe just tired of the scene. He found himself wishing he was having a movie night with Kyra and Ava.
“Prince Marcus?” A man’s voice got his attention from behind. He swiveled around in his bar stool and met the eyes of a man just about his age. He’d expected the guy to be older.
He hopped down and held out his hand for a shake.
“You must be Jonathan Glasgow,” he said.
“That I am,” the guy said and winked.
“Thanks for meeting with me.” Marcus nodded at the hostess that he was ready for their table. She hurried over with menus, took their drink orders and led them away from the bar.
As they followed her into the dining room, Marcus noticed that Jonathan Glasgow’s eyes were glued to the hostess’s ass. He turned to Marcus and raised his eyebrows in a smirk of appreciation.
“Here you are, Your Highness.” The hostess, whose nametag read Brynne, smiled at him, seeming just a little starry-eyed. Marcus was used to women acting flustered around him. He smiled easily back, hoping she’d relax.
“Thanks, babe,” Jonathan said to Brynne as she handed him a menu. Then Jonathan had the audacity to place a hand on her waist. “How about you get us each a scotch?” he asked.
Brynne backed away from Jonathan’s touch, shocked but clearly trying to be respectful and professional. Marcus wanted to hide his face.
“I’ll be right back with your scotch, sir,” she said but avoided his eyes. She walked away from the table, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“She’s on fire, man,” Jonathan said casually as he stared at his menu. “Did you see those legs? They never end.”
Marcus cleared his throat and was about to change the subject when the man spoke again.
“Wouldn’t mind having her as an appetizer, you know?” Jonathan laughed at his own disgusting joke then looked seriously at Marcus. “Hey, do you have any pull here? Playboy Prince of Sovalon, right? I know you get tons of women,” he said. “You think you could get her to hang out with us later?”
To Marcus’s total dismay, the evening continued in much the same manner. Every time Marcus tried to sway the conversation toward talk of the women’s shelter and investment, Jonathan found a way to bring it back to sex. He flirted relentlessly and totally inappropriately with their waitress, a shy girl who seemed to be at a loss as to how to respond to Jonathan’s come-ons.
“So what time is your shift ‘til tonight, babe?” Jonathan asked her as she placed the check on the table. “We’re planning on doing some partying tonight if you want to join us.”
Marcus had said nothing about partying when he’d made dinner plans with Glasgow.
“Come on,” Jonathan said and licked his slimy lips. “We’ll show you a good time.”
The shy waitress declined Jonathan’s offer but thanked them both, making Marcus feel like he was just as gross as Glasgow.
Had he ever been that bad? The thought turned his stomach. He’d always been a flirt, but he wanted to believe that he’d been more aware of when a woman was uninterested—or worse yet, uncomfortable.