Chapter 3: A Prince For A Husband

“Un scotch avec des glaçons, s'il vous plait (One scotch on the rocks, please),” Knoxx said  to the bartender as he settled himself on one of the stools surrounding the bar area of the club he was in.

The bartender gave him a little nod and proceeded to get his drink. Two giggling girls passed by him, catching his attention, making his head turn towards their direction. One was clearly checking him out, and the other had her eyes elsewhere.

The side of his mouth curved up as he studied the girl who still had her eyes on him. The girl has a nice face and curves in the right places. But she oddly moves a little but too childish for him, teen-ish.

He doesn’t date girls anymore. Girls tend to be clingier and demanding—a thing he will never sign up for.

He likes experienced women. He ain’t the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy though. He just likes to go to bed with women who understand what it meant to have fun— no other strings attached.

But he hasn’t had any fun for a long time now. He just cannot bring himself to have fun when he had a lot on his plate right now. No. Not right now.

He released a slow steady breath.

He continued staring at the girl and contemplated for a while. Should he make the most of the night and get some lay while he is in disguise? However, when the girls finally began walking away, he got a hint that the girl is not the right lay he’s been looking for tonight.

He huffed, still thinking of the things he had gone through today for nothing.

When the bartender gave him his drink, he downed it all on one go. He ordered a refill thrice but still, the choking feeling of anger and frustration in his chest remained.

When he learned from an asset that the person he was looking for was last seen in Paris, he dropped everything and flew there. He doesn’t really know what to expect. But the fcking chase for justice had been going on for more than a decade now and that had every one in his family on the edge. And no, he cannot trust the people who works for them anymore. As the years passed, he had seen how their loyalty wavered. The questions are getting heavier by the day too. That’s why he was doing what he was doing now. To find answers. Even if he would do it himself… and in disguise.

It was just but a little sacrifice. Besides, everyone back home was still in mourning for the death of his grandfather a year ago. Him going off the radar for a few days won’t be noticed.

But then…

He released a slow breath and ordered another round of drink, still trying to clear his head. However, as he got drunk, the heavy emotions just kept shifting inside his chest. If he’s be honest he’s becoming angrier—more frustrated.

Dammit! he hissed.

“Four shots de téquila, s'il vous plait,” said the sweet voice near him.

He glanced at the woman who has just occupied the seat beside him. He creased his brows and gave her a once over.

She was wearing a tight shiny little black dress which perfectly hugs her curves. Her shoulder-length wavy hair was slightly tousled. He had a whiff of her sweet smelling shampoo. It reminded him of the garden back home during spring—sweet, captivating, and unique.  He had a sudden urge to touch that little waist of hers and pull her flushed to him.

Interesting, he thought as he distracted himself from her by taking a swig of his drink.

 His eyes went up to the woman’s face and he cannot help but smirk by the way her cheeks flushed as she downed the second set of tequila shots she ordered in one go. His loins stirred, as he watched her lick her lips—not wanting to waste any drop of the heavenly drink.

He looked away and downed his own drink, trying to get a hold of himself. He had never felt that intense attraction to any woman before nor to any of the women he had slept with.

Fck. Was he that sex starved that going to bed is the first thing that enters his mind the moment he laid his eyes on a hot chick?

He scoffed.

He’s 28 years old now. He ain’t  some hormonal teen anymore, fantasizing over his first bang. And yet…

He shot another glance at the woman, depriving himself was not helping his control at all. And so he looked—secretly staring at her as she talked to her friend.

The woman was different— aside from her natural charm and beauty, she carried an air of confidence and authority with her. She was really a looker.

His phone rang, throwing him off to what seem like a trance the attractive stranger woman had put on him. It was Evander or simply Ander, his assistant or courtier.

He took a lungful of air before answering the phone. “Ander.”

“Thank God you answered, Sir. Are you alright?” his assistant asked, his voice was a mix of worry and fear.

“Aside from a few scratches, I’m still breathing,” he lied, withholding a chuckle. Ander huffed out a series of expletives in Greek. He just knew his answer got him over the edge that quick. “I’m fine. Just chilling out before I return to my hotel.”

Silence fell for a while before Ander huffed out, relieved.  “Thank God you are fine, Sir. Now, I get to live another day. I just need to make sure that you’d live after that benefit race you agreed to go to three days from now. Remind me again, why did I agree to be your courtier?  Because at this rate, I swear, my balls have already dried off before meeting the one destined to be my wife.”

He let out a breathy laugh. Ander was his high school friend. He is intelligent and fiercely loyal to his family. His late grandfather himself chose Ander to work for him, continuing the legacy of their family.

“Should that happen, Lorie would still want you for sure,” he teased. Referring to the old maiden serving his aunt.

“I’d rather die of blue balls than to be Lorie’s husband. Like you, I have standards too, you know. And old lady Lorie doesn’t even tick one in the list.” Ander cussed and he chuckled some more. “Anyway, just make sure you make it tomorrow at the council’s meeting. That’s the only way we can pull off this plan of yours unnoticed.”

“Alright, I’ll be at the airport at 8. Not a minute longer, I promise. Also one more thing, take a drink or two will you. It helps with the nerves,” he said and ended the call. That’s when he became aware of the crowd now surrounding the bar area he was in.

He quickly glanced at the attractive woman seating beside him. She was now standing, giggling as she watched her friend pushed several men who were slowly closing in at her. Her face was now beet red and she was mumbling something just beneath her breath. When the crowd started to dissipate, she tried to settle herself once again on the stool to sit. But her visibly drunken state made her unable to do so. She lost her balance and in an instant, she was already in his arms— vulnerable and hot, a damn gorgeous temptation he knew would make him awake for days.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

 “I… I need… you,” she declared. And before he knew it, she brushed her lips to his.

He didn’t waste any time and deepened the kiss. He just wanted to get a taste of her, knowing the night would end up in pure torture if he wouldn’t. But she matched his intensity. Her soft lips perfectly meld with his, strengthening his desire to be with her tonight. However, he knew he must stop. He has to. And with a great effort he ended the kiss. Their eyes instantly locked as they both catch their breaths.

“What’s your name?” she asked in between pants.

“Knoxx, mademoiselle,” he replied.

“I’m Tala. Well, you kissed me, Knoxx. Do you agree to be my husband for a month?”

Tala. He repeated in his head. The name fits her.

And a husband eh? He thought.

He gave out a satisfied smile as his vision blur, the scotch probably doing what it does best—knock him off to sleep. But, drunk or not, he’d be damned if he’d let the beautiful woman go. He’d be willing to be her fcking everything just to be with her tonight.

“Oui, mon cheri,” he said, before he dipped his head and caught her delicious lips into a searing kiss.

They took a few more drinks after. He was half-drunk when they left the club, her friend nowhere in sight.

They ended up in his hotel room and made love all through the night.