Royally Bad (Royally Wrong Book 1)

low, grey building alongside the park. “I wanted to thank you all for coming and interacting with the kids.”
“It was my pleasure,” Theo says, shaking Mr. White’s hand. All the anger has drained out of him. He stands tall and proud, inclining his head, as gracious as if he were the president accepting an award. “Thank you for the work you do. This afternoon was a drop in the bucket compared to that.”
“I don’t know about that. For example,” he nods to two preteens who look like identical twins. “I’ve known Billy and Kenny since they were toddlers. Their mom works late, so they’re in our programs every day. The older they get, the more they disengage. What you did today, it means a lot to them. And to me.”
“Mr. Kensington has a non-profit that’s interested in partnering with local kid’s clubs,” I put in.
Theo gives me a small frown, but doesn’t correct me.
“I’d love to hear more,” Mr. White says. “I know you’re busy, but I’d like to invite you to the Kid’s Olympics event we’re having. Downtown. Clubs from the East Coast are all gathering together to compete. It’s tomorrow. I know it’s last minute notice to add to your schedule, but—”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Theo says, and thanks the man again while I grin in satisfaction.
“Theo,” blondie hollers from the Maserati. “Can we go now?”
Theo ignores her, and takes my elbow, directing me to the car. The crazy attraction jumps between us again, making me almost stumble as I navigate the broken pavement to the black Escalade.
To anyone watching, he’s escorting me to the car like a gentleman, moving his hand to my back to steady me. I feel the press of his fingers outlined on my back, burning like a brand. Like it’s radioactive.
He puts his lips close to my ear. “What did I just tell you about posing for the press?”
“I didn’t send him over to you.” I whisper back, ignoring the crazy thumping in my heart. “That was all on Mr. White.” I climb into the car and glance back, hoping to see the Theo who played with those kids. The real Theo, his gaze soft and open.
Instead he looks hard, shuttered.
I gulp and take a chance. “He’s right you know. Mr. White. You did a good thing today. I’m sorry if I ruined it with the media.” And I am sorry. I thought the battle was between us and the press. Not between you and me.
He stares at me so long I almost call his name. Blondie hollers again, and he shakes himself, breaking the spell. Thank God. Any longer and his force field would pull me from the car to jump straight into his arms.
“This isn’t over,” he warns and shuts the door while I shiver at the promise and the threat.
Back at the mansion, I head to my assigned office to check my laptop. There’s an email from Mina with two words. “Mission Completed.” I smile. Mina likes using code words as she executes her hacker genius.
My phone rings. Evans.
“I just got orders from Mr. Kensington. He said he’s going to the Kid’s Olympics tomorrow?”
I grin and thank the heavens above for Mr. White. “I guess so.”
“He also asked for no extra media presence, but he says he’s going to volunteer all day.”
I fumble the phone and almost drop it. When I get it back up to my ear, Mr. Evans has continued, “—before flying out to Sweden.”
“Has he agreed to Sweden?”
“Not yet.”
“He will,” I say, and knock on the wood top of my desk. I’ll get him to agree to meet his grandmother the queen if I have to don a bikini and give Theo a lap dance.
I do not say this out loud to Evans.
“My men have been monitoring the media. Apparently, more sex tapes starring Pepper Spice have come out. She must have made one of every guy she’s ever slept with. It’s all over the celebrity news shows.”
Well done, Mina. “That should deflect the attention from Theo somewhat.”
“That’s what I’m seeing.” Evans clears his throat. “I don’t know how you did it, but keep it up. We might be able to convince the board to give him a second chance, after all.”
Four hours later, I close my laptop. I have Theo scheduled for an interview on Thursday, and released his statement asking for the press to “respect his privacy.” I’ve nudged a few friends to lean on Pepper Spice, who’s looking less and less like a credible source, and more like an opportunistic slut. I don’t like dishing out dirt to clean up a client’s image, but if Pepper is mud-slinging, the least I can do is turn the camera on her.
I’ve just finished dinner when my phone rings again.
“He’s gone,” Evans grunts.
“Again? I thought you took his keys?”
“I did. Must’ve taken the Porsche.”
“The man owns ten cars. When you take his keys, you need to take all of them.” I stalk to the window and push open the shades, as if I expect to see Theo motor down his front drive. “We leave tomorrow at eight. We don’t have time to pull him out of a bar and dry him out. We can’t delay anymore. We’re out of time.”
“I know. We’re trying to track his phone.”
I whirl from the window, rubbing my temples. My headache was gone, but I feel it coming back with a vengeance. “Could he just be at the pool with the rest of his posse?”
“He sent them home. Thought he was headed to his rooms. We’re searching the residence for him now.”
Dammit. “All right. I’ll help.” I pack up my laptop and head to my room. If I’m going to run down my client, I’m going to do it in Nikes, not Louboutins.
I growl to myself as I march down the gilded halls. “Goddamn fucking man better keep his fucking dick in his fuck god pants or I will staple them to his—” I open the door to