The Prince (16 page)

“A favor? What?” He heard hatred in his voice. It sounded so foreign. Wesley didn’t hate anyone, or didn’t think he did. Not until that moment.

“As I said, things are happening. I’m concerned that Eleanor is at risk. I’d like her to leave the area for some time. I’d hoped that Kingsley and I could remedy the situation while she was upstate this summer, but unfortunately…”

“Wait. What? You want me—”

“I know who you are, Wesley. I know what you are. I knew before I even allowed you to move in with Eleanor.”

“Allowed? What do you mean, you ‘allowed’ me to move in with Ele—with Nora? She asked me. I said yes.”

Søren smiled then and that smile had drawn a line down the center of Wesley’s back with an icicle.

“Eleanor is watched.”

Wesley had taken a step forward in fury.

“You unbelievable asshole. You spy on your own girlfriend?”

“It’s hardly spying, Wesley. Eleanor is my property. It’s my obligation to see to her safety. You lock the door to your car and never leave it on dangerous streets. Why? So it won’t get stolen. I see that Eleanor is watched so she won’t be harmed. It is the same principle.”

“Except Nora isn’t a car or a house. She’s a person.”

“Yes. And therefore infinitely more precious than any other chattel. Which is why the instant she took an interest in you, I had Kingsley find out who you were.”

Wesley hadn’t said anything at that point. He’d feared he would end up killing Søren or being killed by him with the next words he’d said.
Nora
and
chattel
used in the same sentence. Then and there Wesley decided he would do whatever it took to get Nora away from this man and keep her away from him…forever.

“The Prince of Kentucky. That’s what they call you, isn’t it?”

Wesley’s jaw clenched. “Unfortunately.”

Søren raised an eyebrow slightly.

“You never told Eleanor your family was worth roughly one billion dollars. Why is that, young man? You aren’t the deceptive sort.”

“People don’t look at you the same when you have money. I wanted her to see me as a person, as a man, not as…”

“Money.”

As much as he hated to agree with him, Wesley had nodded.

“Back home, I can’t even go to a fundraiser without it getting into the stupid gossip columns. I tried to visit some kids at a hospital and some nurse posted pics of me with those sick kids all over Facebook. I hate it. I hate that I’m John Wesley Railey, son of Jackson Railey of The Rails in Kentucky. I’ve got dollar signs all over me. I had a girlfriend in high school, Madison. Overheard her telling one of our friends she was only with me because it got her access to all the good parties in town. I didn’t want Nora to see me like that.”

“You do realize that Eleanor is as unimpressed with money as I am.”

Wesley shrugged. “I didn’t know that at the time. And it seemed to make her so happy to help me.”

“She does love her strays, doesn’t she? You were her favorite of all her puppies.”

The mocking tone in Søren’s voice had Wesley seeing red. And shortly after the red, he saw black. Wesley had rushed forward, intent on pushing Søren into the wall. The puppy had grown up. But with one seamless motion, Søren stepped to the side, wrapped a hand around Wesley’s neck and pushed him hard into the door.

His head smacked against the wood and his vision darkened for a split second. The whole thing had happened so fast, so gracefully, that he knew he’d never be able to defeat Søren with physical force. The man was unnaturally strong and had years of practice putting people in their place. But Wesley had something Søren didn’t have. And in that moment when he’d been pinned by his throat, Søren’s fingers digging into his neck, Wesley’s vision cleared and he knew what he would do.

“Behave yourself, young man. Eleanor’s very fond of you, and I’d hate to break one of her favorites. I’ll allow her to do that herself…if you’re willing to take her in, take her to Kentucky with you while Kingsley and I deal with some unfinished business.”

Wesley had swallowed and felt the sinews in his neck pressing against Søren’s hand.

“Is this how you win fights with Nora, too?” Wesley refused to give in to the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. “Choking her? Slamming her head against the wall?”

“I’m not holding you hard enough to even lightly constrict your airway. You flinched so much that’s why you hit your head. When I do this to Eleanor, she wets herself for reasons far different than the reasons you’re about to.”

“You’re a sadist. I know you’re enjoying this. I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of being scared of you.”

“Enjoy this?” Søren leaned in close and put his mouth near Wesley’s ear. “Forgive me, young man, but you really aren’t my type.”

Søren’s fingers pressed into his neck tighter, and Wesley inhaled in silent terror.

“Or maybe you are...” Søren whispered. And then, as suddenly as he started, Søren let go and stepped back.

Wesley rubbed his throat and took heavy gulps of air. “If she comes with me, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t come back,” he vowed.

“She always comes back to me, Wesley. You know that.”

“You haven’t seen my world. You’ve got a church. I’ve got a castle. You’ve got a vow of poverty. I’ve got more money than God. You can’t even be seen in public with her. I can stand in front of a thousand cameras with the whole world watching, and kiss her.”

Taking a deep breath, Wesley turned and stared at Søren. He saw something then in his eyes.

A flash of fear.

Suddenly there. Suddenly gone. But Wesley had seen it. And it gave him the hope he needed. If Søren feared Nora would stay with him in Kentucky, then Wesley knew he had a chance.

“Fine. Yes. I’ll take Nora with me to Kentucky. She can stay with me forever if she wants. I’ll keep her safe, but since you won’t be there, that kind of goes without saying.”

“Very well. Once she returns to the city, I’ll send for you.”

Wesley turned to leave Nora’s house…their house.

“I won’t let her go back to you,” Wesley said. “Fair warning.”

Søren narrowed his eyes at him and smiled. “Won’t let her?” he repeated. “Why, Wesley, you’re starting to sound like one of us.”

“Wesley?”

Shaken back to the present, Wesley spun around and found Nora standing behind him, holding a horse by the bridle.

“Nora…what are you—”

“Can I have him? He’s cute.”

Nora grinned at him before turning her head and kissing the horse on the snout. The animal exhaled as he shook his mane.

“His name is Spanks for Nothing. It’s destiny. We belong together.”

Groaning, Wesley walked over to Nora and took the horse by the bridle. “Nora…you can’t go around taking horses out of their stalls. That’s kind of frowned upon around here.”

“He followed me.”

“He did not.”

“No, but I did.” The voice came from behind the horse. Wesley looked over the back of Spanks for Nothing and saw a tall, handsome man of obvious Middle Eastern descent smiling at Nora.

Wesley’s eyes widened. Nora giggled. The man came around the horse and stood beside her.

“Wesley, this is my friend—”

“Talel bint Nassar II,” Wesley said, extending his hand.

“You’ve met?” Nora asked, smiling at first him and then at Talel.

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Wesley saw Talel wink at Nora. Wink? One of the sons of a Middle Eastern king just winked at Nora? “You’ve met?”

Nora nodded with a grin. “Oh, yeah. We’re old friends. Talel and I go way back.”

“How is the car treating you, my dear?” Talel spoke beautiful English, more fluent in the language than a lot of Kentuckians Wesley had encountered. Not surprising, considering his Oxford degree and the years he spent in the United States. Everyone around the racing industry knew Talel.

“Still purring like a kitten, as is her owner. Wes…Talel’s the friend who gave me my Aston Martin.” Nora gave him a sidelong stare. Nora had once hinted that a client of hers, a member of Middle Eastern royalty, had given her the sports car as a thank-you gift after a beautiful week together. Of course it would be one of the sheiks involved in horse racing. Talel was nearly as tall and handsome as Søren, although his opposite in some very key areas—dark-skinned where Søren was pale, black hair in contrast to Søren’s blond. And if he really was a client of Nora’s, that meant one thing and one thing only—the man was a sexual submissive.

Wesley suddenly had a vision of Talel on the ground with Nora standing on his back with a riding crop in her hand. The image gave him a perverse moment of pleasure.

“And how is it that you know the Prince of Kentucky, madam?” Talel asked as he took Nora’s hand and kissed the back of it gallantly.

“Wes and I used to live together. I’m down here visiting him for a while. He’s my—”

“Boyfriend.” Wesley said the word firmly and in a tone that brooked no argument. He waited for Nora to contradict him. She probably would. He didn’t even know why he said it other than Talel seemed a bit too happy to see Nora and Nora seemed way too happy to see him.

“Yes,” she said as she let go of Talel’s hand and reached for Wesley’s. “My boyfriend. Emphasis on the ‘boy.’ I’m having a Mrs. Robinson moment.”

“I’m not complaining.” Wesley kissed Nora on the top of her head. He loved kissing her there. She was a shrimp of a thing compared to him. She might tower over him with the size of her personality, but at least he had her beat on height.

“Nor should you, young man.” Talel reached out and shook Wesley’s hand. “You are blessed indeed to have such a great woman in your life. We are mere princes, you and I. But she is a queen.”

Nora nodded in agreement. “I can’t argue with that. Well, I could, but I’m not going to. Spanks for Nothing is Talel’s horse. He let me borrow him just to freak you out a little. Did it work?”

“You’ll have to do better than horse theft to freak me out. You are you, after all.”

“Good point.” Nora kissed Spanks for Nothing once more on his nose and handed him back to Talel. “Is he racing today?”

“He is. I wouldn’t bet on him if I were you, however. You’ve charmed him, milady, and a besotted horse is a distracted horse.”

Nora grinned ear to ear. “That’s terrible. We can’t have that.” Stepping forward, she laid her hands on the sides of Spanks for Nothing’s face and stared him in the eyes. “You have to win today. Win for me. Do you understand that?” The horse blew through his lips and Nora patted him on the head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“He would be foolish to disobey you, Mistress,” Talel said, guiding Spanks for Nothing back to the stables. “As would any man.”

“I like that guy,” Nora said. “He has fabulous taste in women.”

Wesley looked down at her. “I can’t believe you know Talel bint Nassar.”

“I can’t believe
you
know Talel. Does everyone in horse racing know each other?”

“Yes, actually,” Wesley said as they strolled past the paddock and toward the betting booths. “Does everyone in the kink world know each other?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. At least the New York community does. I’m kind of amused at how much overlap there is. Griffin and Talel and you—”

“I’m not in the New York kink community.”

“Kingsley Edge has a file on you an inch thick in his office. Whether you like it or not, you are one of us. Guilt by association,” she said. “Now how do I bet on Spanks for Nothing?”

“That depends. Do you want to bet on him winning, placing or showing? You could get fancy and do a combination bet. Maybe a trifecta or superfecta.”

“No idea what that means.” Nora pulled out a hundred dollar bill and laid it down on the counter. “I want Spanks for Nothing to win. That is all.”

The woman in the betting booth handed Nora her ticket, and Wesley escorted her to the stands. They took their seats and Wesley pulled out his binoculars. Nice firm track. Hadn’t rained in at least a week. The running would be fast today. He loved introducing first-timers to horse races. They were always amazed by how quickly the race ended. On his best day, Wesley could run a mile in seven minutes. The fastest horse could do it in one hundred thirty-one seconds, barely over two minutes. It blew his mind when he thought about it—over a thousand pounds of horseflesh covering a full mile in two minutes. The horse industry, Thoroughbreds, the races…he’d grown up around them, and he’d long ago lost his interest in being a part of this world. But the horses themselves…they still amazed him.

A siren blew to alert everyone that the race would start in seconds. Nora grabbed the binoculars from him and turned her attention to the starting gate.

“Watch them burst out of the gates,” Wesley said. “That’s the most exciting part until the finish line. Those horses are so jacked up on adrenaline right now that it’s like a bomb going off when those gates open.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It is dangerous. That’s when a lot of accidents happen. Lots of horses have died right out of the gate. Broken ankles, broken legs. Lots of jockeys get hurt there, too.”

“Poor little guys.”

“Some jockeys are women, Nora.”

“Poor little girls.”

“Horse racing isn’t a pretty sport,” Wesley confessed. “The horses are bred for speed, not heartiness. Legs like twigs. They break easy and running that hard can make their lungs bleed. They’re breakable animals.”

“Breakable—just my type. Do racehorses really piss like racehorses?”

“If a horse has bleeding lungs they give it Lasix. It’s a diuretic. They can pee about twenty gallons.”

“Hmm…twenty gallons. Get enough chardonnay in me and I can give them a run for their money.”

“We can stop by the bar later. Or you can. I’m still underage.”

“Rub it in, junior. Seriously. Rub it in.” Nora turned her head and smiled wickedly at him before giving the race her full attention once more. Wesley blushed. He’d been trying not to think about tonight with Nora. He wanted to be able to walk around in public without a visible erection beneath his jeans. “Spanks for Nothing is leading. How much money will I make?”

“Couple thousand dollars. Long odds on him.”