Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  I wake to the sun pouring in through the hotel room window. It takes a minute for me to remember where I am, but the view of the Vegas Strip outside reminds me pretty quickly. With a groan, I rub my aching head. I had way too much to drink yesterday.

  We had way too much to drink.

  I glance down at the bed beside me. Sophia is still asleep, snuggled under the covers, but the sight of her makes me happy. Judging by the fact that we’re both clothed, it looks like we didn’t have sex last night, but that’s probably a good thing, considering I can’t remember much after we stumbled out of that show with all the crazy acrobats. Still, things are finally good between us. I know that much.

  I climb out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. I stop in front of the mirror, inspecting the damage from last night. I’ve got dark circles under my eyes, but nothing a bunch of water and some stage makeup shouldn’t fix. Yawning, I rub my cheek, feeling how thick my stubble has gotten since I’ve gone two days without trimming.

  Something catches the light in the mirror, and I freeze, squinting at my reflection. There’s something on my finger.

  I pull my hand away from my face and look down at it. There’s a ring on my finger—a completely unfamiliar ring. The simple gold band sits around the ring finger of my left hand.

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. What the…

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looked like a wedding ring. But I’m not fucking married. How the fuck did I get a fucking wedding ring?

  A sudden, horrifying thought occurs to me. I stumble back out of the bathroom toward the bed. Sophia is still snuggled under the covers, but her left hand is peeking out from beneath the sheet. I roll back the covers just enough to see her fingers.

  There’s a gold band around her ring finger, just like mine.

  I stumble back until my spine hits the wall behind me, completely stunned. I try to remember what happened last night, but everything after the show is a big, empty blur. I have no idea what happened—not the how, or the where, or even the why. Either way, though, the evidence is clear.

  Sophia and I are married.

  Royal Disaster 4

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: January, 2018

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  Sophia

  My head is throbbing, and I don’t want to open my eyes. I somehow know if I so much as see a sliver of light, it’s only going to make the pain worse. And I don’t want to think about what’s going on with my stomach—I feel as though I could vomit at any moment.

  It takes me a few moments to remember where I am and what might have happened. I’m lying on a hotel bed somewhere in Las Vegas. I know Pax and I went on our date yesterday, and it was wonderful—spending time alone with him made me forget about his dark secrets. Being with him was enough—and it made me want more.

  There was alcohol—a lot of it. Every time we passed a kiosk selling a colorful frozen concoction in a souvenir cup, Pax bought one. I probably consumed more alcohol yesterday than I have in my entire life. Combined. It’s no wonder my head is throbbing.

  I have to get up and find some aspirin. And water. The mere thought of seeing any amount of light is enough to make my head feel as though it’s going to explode. But I’m able to open one eye just a sliver—barely enough to see it’s fairly dark in the room. My clothes are still on—I suppose that’s a good sign. Pax didn’t try to take advantage of me in my inebriated state—and I didn’t try to take advantage of him.

  It takes me a few moments to be able to sit up on the side of the bed and another few moments after that to realize Pax isn’t in it. I blink a few times before I see a shadowy figure pressed against the wall near me.

  “Pax?” My tongue is so thick I can barely speak. I really need to get some water. And brush my teeth.

  He says nothing.

  “My head…” I stand, taking a few careful steps toward him and the bathroom. “You don’t happen to have any aspirin?”

  There are a few moments of silence before he speaks. “No. I…don’t.”

  I groan, making my way for the bathroom. As I take a long drink of water, I realize that he’s behaving more oddly than usual. I shake the feeling off—he was probably at least as drunk as I was yesterday. I probably said something to him that frightened him. Maybe I brought up the whole I love you thing.

  Oh God, I think. I didn’t say it back to him, did I?

  Well, if I’m not allowed to hold his drunken statements against him, he certainly shouldn’t hold mine against me. Besides, I’m not sure I do love him. I definitely have feelings for him, but I’m not ready to call it love. Not yet. Being in love with Pax would infinitely complicate things—I do sort of remember our conversation from yesterday while we were still on the tour bus. We decided to live in the present—to enjoy the moment. It isn’t as though he needs to come to Montovia to meet my family. It isn’t as though we have to be anything more than what we are right now.

  I finish freshening up—I’m still a fright, but at the moment, I really want to crawl back into bed. Perhaps Pax will join me. Maybe after we find some aspirin.

  I return to the room, and Pax is still pressed against the wall near the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as I climb back onto the bed, pulling the covers over me. “You should join me.”

  “I…” I can barely see him in the dimly lit room, but I can feel him staring at me. It takes him a long moment, but he finally lies down next to me—on top of the covers.

  “You can…you know. Get in bed.” I grin. “If you want.”

  He turns to face me. “I…”

  “What is it?” I reach out of the blankets and take his hand. “You’re welcome to join me here. If you want.” I squeeze his fingers. “And thank you for a lovely day yesterday.”

  He frowns. “You’re…welcome.”

  I must have really pissed him off. “Did I do something? Say something?” I feel my brow furrow. “Because if I did—”

  “What do you remember about yesterday?”

  “What do I…remember?” My smile suddenly turns to a frown. “I remember a lot of alcohol. And more food than I’ve probably eaten in my life.”

  “Other than that.” The look on his face is anything but playful—I’ve never seen him this serious.

  “Why? What—”

  “What do you remember?” There’s a tinge of anger in his voice, and I’m not sure where it’s coming from.

  “I remember…having a lot of fun.”

  “Specifically.”

  “Um…” It takes me a moment to think of anything specific. My head feels slightly better after a few glasses of water, but not by much. “I remember pancakes. And the circus.”

  “It wasn’t a circus. It was…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. After the acrobats. What do you remember after that?”

  “After that?” I frown, watching him for a moment. “We went to a bar. I was tipsy.”

  “You were more than tipsy. But do you remember anything? After that?”

  I shake my head. “No, not really.”

  “Damn it.” He sets his
jaw, looking at me for a long moment. “Sophia—”

  “Wait, I do remember something.” The smile returns to my lips. “Elvis. Do you remember? You sang a duet with Elvis.”

  “I…did?” His eyebrows draw together. “Shit. I did.”

  “You tried to get me to sing with you, and I think we sang together for a minute.” I lift a brow, still grinning. “I told you I was a terrible singer.”

  “You are a terrible singer.” He squeezes my hand. “We’ll keep you on the keyboard if we ever let you play with the band.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the point. We were with an Elvis impersonator.”

  “Right.” I nod. “Like I said. And you sang a duet. You sang…” My smile falls. I remember exactly what he sang to me and what he said after he sang it. Maybe he doesn’t remember. Maybe he doesn’t remember telling me how much he loves me and getting down on one knee. Maybe he doesn’t remember…

  Oh my God. He…he got down on one knee. He told me he loved me more than he’s ever loved anything. He…he…

  “Sophia.” He interrupts my thought. “You need to look at your hand.”

  I pull my hand from his, inspecting my left ring finger. There’s a plain gold band on it—I don’t really remember how it got there. The entire night is only a vague, shadowy memory. But I definitely remember putting a ring on his finger. I definitely remember saying I do to the man impersonating Elvis.

  Oh my God. I shake my head, pulling his other hand into mine. Sure enough, there’s a band on his ring finger that matches mine exactly.

  “I think…” He frowns down at our joined hands before looking back into my eyes. “I think we’re married.”

  Pax

  This is a disaster.

  This thing between Sophia and me was complicated enough before. Now we’ve brought a drunken wedding into the picture. What the hell do we do now?

  Sophia hasn’t taken her eyes off my hand, but she’s shaking her head.

  “This is just a mistake,” she says. “A joke. We were drunk and found some rings… That’s all. They wouldn’t have let us get married if we were that drunk.”

  “This is Vegas. Everyone is drunk all the time.”

  She finally lifts her head, looking up at me. “But don’t you need a marriage license? Or witnesses? Or something? Aren’t there laws in this country?”

  “There’s a reason people elope to Vegas. You can get married almost instantly here.”

  The last glimmers of hope disappear from her eyes. “So this is real? It couldn’t have been a mix-up?”

  “It could have been anything,” I say. “I hardly remember last night. For all I know some drunken idiot proclaimed us married and we believed it. At least enough to buy rings.”

  She shakes her head more aggressively, pulling her hand out of mine. “Whatever happened, my family is going to kill me.”

  “And try to get it annulled immediately.”

  “Annulled,” she says with a little gasp, as if she’d forgotten the option existed. “Yes, that’s what they’ll do. They just annul it.” Her eyes dart back up to me. “That will solve everything.”

  “Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my head. “I guess it would.” This whole marriage situation is making me sick to my stomach. So why doesn’t this talk about annulment make me feel any better?

  Sophia is looking down at her ring, twisting it around on her finger. “My brother is going to lose his mind when I tell him.”

  “Then maybe we don’t tell him yet,” I suggest. When she looks up at me in surprise, I add, “We’re not even entirely sure what happened. There might not be anything to tell. Until we know the truth, there’s no point in upsetting anyone.”

  “How exactly are you suggesting we figure out the truth?”

  “Mick will know what to do. We’ll tell him. He’ll be discreet about it.”

  She doesn’t look convinced. “I know you trust him—”

  “I do. I told you, he’s been like a father to me.” I glance around for my phone. “I’ll call him. His room is just down the hall.”

  She nods, but she still looks upset. After I hang up with Mick, I walk over to her and pull her into my arms.

  “We were just stupid and drunk,” I say. “We’ll fix this, one way or another.”

  A few minutes later, Mick knocks on the door. I let him in and lock the door behind him. My manager looks between me and Sophia, taking in our expressions with an assessing glance.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “We, uh, got a little drunk last night,” I say. “And we may have complicated things.”

  Mick’s eyebrow rises. “How?”

  I raise my hand, showing him the ring I still haven’t taken off. “We may have gotten married.”

  To my surprise, Mick breaks into a grin. “Married? This is great!” He claps me on the shoulder. “Congrats, you two. Now, if you’d asked me, I would’ve suggested something bigger, a little more public, but—”

  “Mick,” I interrupt. “We were trashed. Neither of us remembers it. We’re not even sure if it’s real. That’s why we need your help—we need to figure out if it actually happened or not. If it’s legal.”

  His smile drops slightly, but he nods. “Of course. I’ll call around and see if I can get the records. But either way, I think we should leak this to the press—they’ll eat it right up. And the public will love the mystery of it all—‘Did they or didn’t they?’ It’ll be great for us.”

  But I shake my head. “This can’t get out, Mick. We don’t even know what we’re going to do if it’s true.” I can’t bring myself to look at Sophia. “Her family will be working to have it annulled the moment they hear about it.”

  Mick is silent for a long moment, studying me. After a while, his gaze shifts to Sophia, scrutinizing her, too. I can practically see the wheels spinning in his head, attempting to work everything out, trying to guess what is truly going on between Sophia and me.

  I reach out and grab his arm, pulling his attention back to me. I make sure to meet and hold his gaze before I say, “I mean it, Mick. We can trust you to keep this private, right?”

  Mick’s expression softens, and I can see his fatherly, protective instincts break through. “Of course, Pax. I’ll find out what happened last night. Then we’ll figure out what to do about it together. All three of us.” He looks back at Sophia. “Do you trust your reporter friend enough to talk to her about this? If we want to keep this quiet, our first step is to make sure there aren’t any photos floating about. Anyone with a cell phone could have taken one if they’d recognized you.”

  Yeah, maybe we needed a better disguise than a couple of tacky baseball caps.

  Sophia looks thoughtful. “I might be able to talk to her. Either way, if she’s heard about it, we’ll know. I don’t think she’d keep that from me.”

  “Good,” Mick says. “Go talk to her then. I’ll go make some calls. Hopefully we’ll have all the facts within a few hours.”

  He turns and goes to the door, then pauses at the threshold.

  “Before you leave this room, the two of you might want to take off those rings,” he says. And then he’s gone.

  Sophia

  I’m married. Even if it was a drunken mistake, my family is still going to murder me. The scandals my brothers have caused over the past year or so have been bad enough, and if I had to guess, my stupid mistake will trump them all.

  I can’t seem to stop staring at my hand. And at the matching band on Pax’s finger. Part of me feels like I might vomit, but another part… I can’t really explain it. Another part of me, deep in my heart, feels almost…giddy. And when I look up into Pax’s eyes, he doesn’t seem to be too upset about this anymore.

  “I should go and find Victoria.” I pull my hand from his, taking a step toward the door. “I’m not sure what I’ll say—”

  “You don’t have to go just yet. I mean…” He takes a step toward me, sliding his arm around my waist. “Judging by the amount of cloth
ing we’re still wearing, we never did get our honeymoon.”

  “Very funny.” I push against his chest, slipping out of his arms. “I…we…” I shake my head. I have no idea what Pax might be thinking, but this certainly is no joke. When my family finds out about this, they’ll probably castrate him.

  “We could go together. If you want.” His expression becomes more serious. “I mean, we did this together. We should probably face the consequences together.”

  “But we don’t know for sure that we actually did anything. Like you said, that man who married us might have just been some person off the street. We might not really be married at all.”

  He nods a few times, frowning. “Maybe not.”

  If I didn’t know better, I would almost swear that he’s disappointed at the thought. But that makes no sense—he was the one who didn’t want any sort of commitment. He’s the one who wanted to only enjoy the moment—the one who freaked out when he nearly said he loved me. Pax hasn’t been able to let a single emotion show when he wasn’t drunk. So why the change of heart now?

  “You know…” He takes my hand into his again, staring down at the ring. “I could do a lot better than this ring.”

  “I’m sure you could.” I squeeze his fingers. “If this were real, my mother would have let you choose a ring from our family’s jewels.”

  He snorts, grinning down at me. “Family jewels?” He chuckles. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Ah, yes, the American euphemisms.” I can’t help but roll my eyes, shaking my head. “You men never tire of the juvenile humor, do you?”

  “Sorry.” He grins down at me for a moment. “You have rings?”

  “Yes. Lots of them. They’ve been passed down through the generations. Like I said, if this were real, my mother would have let you choose one for me. It’s tradition in the royal family.”