Beneath Her Bastard Boss

Chapter 154

Alexei had known this party would be boring before he even turned up.

Rich people stood around pretending they weren’t about to talk shit the moment your back turned. And the women? They flocked like peacocks in glitter and stilettos, beaming like landing lights, hoping the world’s most notorious royal bachelor would single them out. He wasn’t up himself. It was just a fact of life when you were royal.

God, he could walk around with a brown paper bag over his head and women would still want him.

Of course, he didn’t disappoint. He never did. Alexei, the second son and second in line to King Theodore, always gave the crowd a good show.

Even if he was barely paying attention.

“…so I said, ‘You really like your yacht that much? Why don’t you marry it?“” the blonde beside him said breathlessly, her laugh like broken glass.

He blinked, vaguely realizing she was telling a story. Possibly about herself. Probably not very well.

“Mmh,” he said in response, taking a too–long sip of champagne, wishing it was scotch. It did nothing to dull his irritation or his persistent, nagging thoughts.

Keira.

Bloody. Keira.

His assistant. His brainache. His personal hurricane in heels. Infuriating woman.

He’d seen her face when the photos hit the tabloids… murderous and pink–cheeked, jaw clenched and those scorching blue eyes blazing as she rapid–fired damage control from the corner of her “converted” cubicle outside his office.

He hadn’t even slept with the model in the photos. She’d begged for attention. He hadn’t intended to give the cameras anything. The model had pulled at his towel before he could stop her. It had been her way of getting media attention. Now there were questions about them being an item. She had gone out the next day sporting a ring on her finger.

But he had still enjoyed the pleasure of pissing Keira Warner off.

Because watching her fury spark? That was his new favorite hobby.

God, she was exhausting. Bossy. Blunt. Rude. Delightfully rude. No one else ever fought back the way she did. Not in the palace. Not in

business.

She fired his blood in an argument better than any woman had in his bed.

Well–correction. No one had been in his bed in a while either.

Had it really been a month?

with a frown. He was…

it upon

Last

For a moment. Why not? It served a purpose. Keira would definitely see the photo. And react. Which, for reasons he

1/4

him. Palace Communications. Translation: his father’s eyes and ears. There was also Mark at

years old and not thirty–one. Alexei was guessing

ranted about the “peril of perception” and the “crown’s dignity.” As if Alexei had any real claim to the

for two years

was still stuck

power to be a headline. Let’s be honest, he would always be of

her hand from his shoulder to lightly trace his bicep. She smiled, batting lashes like she was auditioning for Miss Universe: 1950s Edition. “Penny for

charge a bit more than that, darling,” Alexei

did. They always did. He could say anything to

Except Keira.

snort, roll her eyes, and call him something obscene, probably while making him a

wasn’t impressed with his title, and she’d tell anyone she wasn’t impressed by him. He liked being around her, even

thing was, he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. He should have preferred agreeable women, but they bored him with their predictability. Keira, on the other hand, was anything but predictable, which

He had options, plenty of women eager to be close

paparazzi, half the world had seen parts

like the one at his

bored him. She challenged him. Pushed back. Got visibly frustrated every time he pressed one of her buttons–which,

the reason he had been messaging her throughout

as he remembered one of her texts: “Currently drowning in photos of your ass.” It made him grin because it hadn’t even been his ass the photographer snapped

asked in his ear, way too confident,

a little too close to his

her. She was pretty. Of course,

But she wasn’t–

he said,

in

got an early day tomorrow.” He stepped away, straightened his jacket, and handed off his empty champagne glass to a passing waiter. “Pleasure meeting you,

mouth like she didn’t quite believe it was happening. She had just offered herself to him, and he

wait to hear her

of his father’s ‘staff‘ meaning security. He couldn’t go anywhere without

back to the penthouse, Your

his jaw. He was