Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  “We both know your husband wouldn’t have allowed you to come here without me.” I grin. “And I can’t imagine he’ll care much that I stay, either. This is about you—he doesn’t want his good name getting mixed up with mine if I’m to somehow develop a poor reputation.”

  “You do not want to become the next Leo. I’m telling you, Sophia—”

  “And why not?” My grin widens. “Would it be so horrible? The press has only ever paid attention to my clothes before today—”

  “Oh, and they still are only paying attention to your clothes. Apparently the story is something about the missing buttons on your blouse.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks, but I shove the embarrassment back down. “That proves nothing—”

  “His arm was around you when you left the studio. You were disheveled. They say you looked like you’d just had sex.”

  I shrug. “Better than getting caught putting a needle in my arm, I suppose.”

  “Sophia!” She blinks at me a few times. “I…I don’t even know who you are right now.”

  “I suppose I don’t know who I am right now, either.” And I don’t. I can’t explain what’s come over me, only that I’m tired of being bound by the unreasonable expectations of my family.

  And truly, what harm have I done to anyone but myself? I suppose I may have put Victoria’s tabloid story in jeopardy, but who cares? It’s a magazine. Half of what they publish each week is speculation or outright lies. It isn’t as though it’s real news. It’s just…entertainment. And I could honestly not care less about entertaining anyone but myself at the moment. My normal life is pretty stifling—even though I usually make light of things, I have to admit there is a lot of pressure.

  “You can’t…” She presses her lips together for a moment. “You can’t really be thinking about hooking up with him.”

  “Again, you mean?” I pull my phone out of my bag again and start flipping through it.

  “Oh my God, you really don’t get it, do you?” I don’t have to look up to know she’s exasperated with me.

  I don’t do her the favor of responding, though. I want to see what other damage Pax might have done—he sent Victoria an embarrassing text, but it’s entirely possible he sent other texts, too.

  But I don’t see any, at least none that weren’t sent by me. It’s a little hard to believe that the only thing he would have done in the time he had my phone was to send a single text.

  I look through my photos, thinking Pax is probably the sort who would send an unwanted photo of his cock, but there’s nothing there, either. He also didn’t make any calls.

  It’s odd. If our positions had been reversed, I might have put a few photos of myself on his phone. But I’m sure that would have been a terrible idea, too. I can’t even imagine how Victoria would have reacted if a nude photo of me were to find its way to a tabloid.

  When did my life come to this? Worrying about the paparazzi is usually one of the last things on my mind. I see them, of course, I just don’t pay much attention to them. They take their photos, and I go on about my business. But I suppose it’s much easier in Montovia, where the press is tightly controlled.

  Our taxi pulls up to the hotel. Victoria doesn’t even glance in my direction. “We’re going home in the morning. Make sure you pack your things tonight.” And she’s out the door and on her way into the building before I have a chance to respond.

  Maybe I will stay. It isn’t as though she can stop me. And even if I don’t see Pax again, I can do some shopping in Beverly Hills before I go. Maybe I’ll think of somewhere else I can go—somewhere away from my family where I can have my own adventures.

  As I’m walking into the lobby, another though occurs to me, and I pull my phone out again. I check my contact list, and there’s only one on there I don’t recognize. An entry that’s titled Best Lay of My Life.

  I smile to myself, even though I know I’m not going to call him. This day has already been enough trouble. And calling Pax—even if it was only to enjoy him one more time—would only spell disaster.

  Pax

  I end up falling asleep on the couch, my phone in hand. When I wake up, the sun is streaming in the windows. A quick glance at the time shows it’s nearly ten in the morning.

  I can’t believe I fell asleep waiting for a woman to call me. What the hell is wrong with me? I toss my cell on the coffee table and rub my face. I’ve officially become a shmuck.

  I also can’t believe I slept this late—and that I only woke up four times last night. I can’t remember the last time I got more than four hours’ sleep at a stretch, but apparently Princess Sophia wore me out.

  I stumble into the bathroom and step into the shower, letting cold water run down my body to wake me up. I’ve got bigger things to worry about than some chick—even one who’s gotten under my skin like Sophia has. My band’s new album drops early next week , and it will make or break the rest of our careers. We’ve got a million things to do. The last thing I want is to be distracted by my cock.

  Still, it would’ve been nice to have a couple weeks of stress relief… I could certainly use the extra sleep.

  When I’m done washing up, I head into my bedroom and throw on an old T-shirt and some jeans. The guys and I are meeting up later to practice a few of the set changes for the tour, but I have a few hours before then.

  Which means a few hours trying to distract myself from thinking about Sophia. I shuffle into the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of cereal. Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected from her—it’s not like some princess was going to follow Twisted Throne around on tour. This was always going to be a short and sweet thing. I wanted it to be a short and sweet thing. I don’t need some woman weighing me down or demanding things of me.

  My phone goes off in the living room, and I nearly jump out of my skin. My cereal spoon clamors against the counter.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I ask myself again.

  I jog into the living room and snatch my phone up from the table. My stomach sinks when I see that it’s only Mick.

  “Hey,” I say, shoving the phone under my ear. “What’s up?”

  “You sound miserable,” Mick says. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” I grumble, returning to the kitchen and my bowl of cereal.

  “So nothing with this princess of Montovia or whatever?”

  I freeze. “How’d you know about that?”

  “I’m your manager. It’s my job to know everything. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret—the pictures are all over the internet. I’ve already gotten calls from half a dozen tabloids this morning asking if you’ll release an official statement about your relationship with her.”

  I lean against the counter. “Mick…”

  “I don’t know how you managed this without me knowing, but it’s genius,” he goes on. “Exactly the sort of publicity we need going into this release. It’s perfect—you get to look like a womanizer and Prince Charming all at once. Your fans are going to eat this shit right up. This might even give us a leg up in the international markets. I’m already talking to the label about an extended European tour.”

  “An international tour? Really?” The boys and I have been asking for one for years—what’s the point of being rock stars if you don’t get to travel to awesome places? “You really think it’ll happen?”

  “By the time I’m done with this story it will,” he says. “Okay, so we need to make a game plan for how all of this is going to go down. I’m thinking we schedule a public dinner next—somewhere swanky. Think you can get her to Empire Station on Thursday? I’ll set up the reservation.”

  Honestly, I have no idea. But I’m not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. “Sure.”

  “Good. Dinner next, and I’ll make sure the paps know you’ll be there. I think we hold off on releasing any official statements for a while, let them speculate a little.”

  “Works for me.”

  “Then maybe something
this weekend. There’s that club opening—I forget the name, but I’ll get you in. If you two get three or four quality appearances in before the album drops, you’re golden. The rumor mill is already turning—we just have to keep feeding it.”

  “We can do that.” If I can get her to talk to me again.

  “Great. I’ll keep working on that European tour. But I’ve got a good feeling about this, buddy. A really good feeling.”

  I’ve got a feeling, too. I’m just not sure if it’s a good one. But when Mick gets caught up in one of his schemes, there’s no stopping him. You learn to smile and agree and figure the rest out later.

  “I’ll go ahead and get that dinner reservation set up,” he tells me. “Let me know when you get confirmation on her end.”

  “Will do,” I tell him.

  When we hang up, I set my phone down on the counter with a sigh. Normally, I wouldn’t even question my ability to get a chick to dinner—and I’ve dated plenty of celebrities before. But Sophia is different. I don’t know how to read her. I can already tell my usual moves don’t really work on her, and when my sister floated the idea about playing this to our advantage last night, Sophia didn’t exactly respond enthusiastically.

  Still, this is too good an opportunity to pass up. I have to try.

  I pick up my phone again and find her number. I decide to shoot her a text.

  I promised I’d fuck you half a dozen ways. And I always keep my promises.

  No mention of dinner, not yet. That might have worked with another girl, but not Sophia.

  And then I set my phone back down and wait.

  Sophia

  I’m awakened by a knock on my door, and a thrill runs through me—for a second, I think it might be Pax. I scramble to the door and look through the peephole, disappointed to see it’s only Victoria.

  Why would I think Pax would come here? It isn’t as though he’s the sort who would want to come and rescue me—not that I need rescuing. But it was stupid to even have the thought at all. Pax is the type of man who thinks only about himself—his needs and only what’s best for him. And he would have no idea where I am, anyway. I’m being stupid. And clearly not thinking with my brain.

  I open the door, and Victoria rushes past me, looking around my suite. “Why aren’t you packed?”

  “Because we don’t leave for another three days.” I yawn, stretching my arms over my head as I follow her into the sitting area. I plop down on the sofa. “Besides…” I fold my arms over my chest, narrowing my gaze at her a bit. “I haven’t decided if I want to leave at all.”

  “Oh, you’re leaving. Today. Andrew booked us on the first flight back to Montovia.” She sits down across from me. “Look, I know you’re an adult, but—”

  “But what? I’ve embarrassed the family? You can’t honestly say that I’ve done anything worse than Leopold did when he was single. In fact, I haven’t even come close—”

  “There’s a double standard. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that. If it was up to me—”

  “But it is up to you. If you’re now somehow my keeper, you have the ability to tell my brother to fuck off.”

  I expect her eyes to widen in shock at my language, but they don’t. She just shakes her head slowly. “I have no say in it. I wish I did.”

  “Well, it isn’t as though you can force me onto a plane, is it?”

  “No. I can’t really force you to do anything.”

  I smile. “Good. I’m glad we agree on that.” I know I sound like a petulant child, but I can’t seem to help myself. “I suppose you can tell my brother I’ll be staying in Los Angeles.”

  “Well, I am asking you to come with me. Not because of anything you might have done with Pax Donovan.” She sighs. “Although—”

  “You know, I could still help you. I could—”

  “I think…I think you’ve helped enough.” She frowns. “I’ll do what I can to keep the story from the magazine, but it’s probably going to be impossible. I’m going to have to mention the rumors about the two of you, at the very least. It’s why it would be best for you to go back home. Or if you don’t want to go there, to go somewhere else. Anywhere else.” She lets out another sigh. “You’ve never really been the center of a major Hollywood scandal before—”

  “And I’m not part of one now. Celebrities hook up all the time, don’t they? And it isn’t as though anyone has any proof of anything. I was missing a few buttons on my blouse—so what? It isn’t as though anyone caught him groping me.”

  She groans and closes her eyes for a moment. “Sophia, if you could only hear yourself.”

  “I hear myself fine. And I still don’t see what the big deal is.”

  Her eyes flutter open, and she shakes her head at me. “It isn’t my place to scold you. And even if it was, I still wouldn’t. It’s just… You need to be careful. The press here will eat you alive.” She holds up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “I know, I know, you’ve been dealing with this all your life, but I promise you, you haven’t. Not like this. They’ve already figured out where you’re staying. There are a group of them on the sidewalk outside the hotel, waiting for any sign of you.”

  She frowns, standing. “I’ve already arranged for a car to pick us up at the back entrance in an hour. That’ll get us to the airport with enough time to get through security. Just…don’t pack, I guess. We can take care of your things later—”

  “And what am I supposed to do then? I go back to Montovia, and then what? I take a tongue lashing from your husband—I’m used to that.” I shake my head. “That’s all I am to them. Some representative of the family who has to behave in the way they expect to so that I can…what? Find myself a noble husband and pop out a few dukes or duchesses? That isn’t the life I want. I…I deserve to do what I like. To have the adventures I want to have.” I glare at her for a moment. “Don’t I?”

  She presses her lips together, and I would almost swear she tears up a bit. “Of course you do.”

  “Then don’t make me go. Tell my brother I’ve left—tell him whatever you like. But Victoria, I am not going back to Montovia. Not now.” I refold my arms over my chest, leaning into the sofa. “Maybe not ever again.”

  Her shoulders drop, defeated. “I’ll…I’ll figure out what to tell him. But you need to promise me that you’ll stay out of this Pax thing. It’s only going to get messy. It’s already messy, and you only had the one…” She shakes her head, groaning again. “I’m not going to be able to keep my promise to Andrew not to report it. If it gets any bigger, I’m going to have a responsibility—”

  “Fine. I promise.” Even as I say the words, disappointment fills me at the thought of not seeing Pax again. I suppose it’s for the best, though. Victoria is right—things would get messy between us, and probably very quickly.

  My phone buzzes on the table beside me, and I pick it up to glance at it.

  I promised I’d fuck you half a dozen ways. And I always keep my promises.

  I press my lips together to hold back my smile. Perhaps if we can keep this—whatever it is—a secret from my family and the public, there would be no harm done to anyone. I would be able to have my adventure, and no one would be the wiser for it. And Pax did say he had no interest in anything between us going public…

  I type quickly into my phone.

  Only six? That doesn’t seem very imaginative.

  I tuck my phone onto my lap and look up at Victoria. “I suppose it’s settled then. You can go about your business here in Los Angeles, and I’m going to go about mine.”

  Pax

  I smile down at my phone. Sophia could have easily ignored my text if she was done with me, but she didn’t. She knows not to walk away from a good thing.

  And she also knows exactly how to get my blood going. My sweet little princess isn’t as innocent as she appears.

  Grinning, I flop down on the sofa, then type out my response.

  I’ll fuck you as many ways as you want, sweetheart. Ju
st name the time and the place.

  I only have to wait a moment before her response comes through:

  Making me choose? Be careful trusting me that much.

  My smile widens. I’m enjoying this game. After a few seconds of thought, I respond:

  Is that a challenge?

  This time, I have to wait a little longer for an answer. Long enough that I find myself itching with impatience.

  Easy there, I tell myself. This is just another chick. Don’t get your panties in a wad just because she’s taking a few minutes to text you back. This is supposed to be the fun part—the chase. The game of give-and-take. The seduction. Once I’ve fucked a woman, it’s like she’s out of my system, and I can get back to my normal life again.

  Except I’ve already fucked this one. And my normal life is the last thing on my mind right now. I’m still caught up in the heat of the chase, even when normally I’d be over her already.

  My cell chirps with an incoming text, and I jump, nearly dropping my phone in my rush to read it.

  It’s not even from Sophia. It’s from Rider, telling me about some chick he scored last night. I quickly shoot him off a response and set my phone down on the coffee table, still waiting for Sophia.

  Fuck, dude. Look what she’s done to you. You’re literally waiting by your phone for her.

  Finally, after ten minutes of nothing, I decide I’m done being patient and write her another text. If she won’t name the time and the place, then I will.

  Tonight. My apartment. 7pm.

  And then I wait.

  * * *

  “Damn it, dude. What’s your problem today?” Charlie says. “We’ve done this song a thousand times.”