Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  You’re doing this for Sophia, I have to keep reminding myself. You said you’d do anything for her.

  Of course, when I said that, I never expected her to actually put me through hell to prove it. What does she think is going to happen here? That I’m going to magically turn into some Prince Charming overnight? Well, I have news for her. After three hours with Monsieur Bonnaire, I’ve managed to break two plates, bite my tongue so hard trying his “special way” of chewing that I draw blood, and I’m pretty sure I’ve taught the good Monsieur a few new curse words, too.

  But this is only the beginning, I know. Tonight is the real test. And in the meantime, I haven’t forgotten that William handed Sophia an entire list of names. She hasn’t brought it up yet, but I’m not going to let her keep it from me for long.

  We’re heading back to her suite after the lesson when I casually say, “I thought that went well.”

  She almost trips over her own feet. “You thought that went well? I thought Monsieur Bonnaire was going to have an aneurysm.”

  “It went well for me,” I say. “At least now I know that I can’t talk about my recent near-death experience at dinner. Or about sports, for some reason.”

  She shakes her head, but there’s a glint humor in her eyes. “I hope you remember a little more than that.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about my ‘obnoxiously loud’ chewing, at least,” I say. “My tongue hurts so much I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat at all.”

  She gives me a playful shove in the arm. “You’ll be fine, you wuss.” Her smile drops slightly. “I need you to at least try to do everything right. My father—”

  “Is looking for reasons to hate me, I know.” I rub the back of my head. “I’ll try. I’m just glad my lessons are over. I was never very good at school.”

  Her gaze slips away from me, but she says nothing.

  Oh, no. I’m not going to let you avoid talking about this, Princess.

  “They are over, aren’t they?” I push. She won’t lie to my face. I hope.

  She still won’t look me in the eyes. “Actually, I thought there were a few other areas where you could use some help.”

  “What areas?”

  She continues walking along as if she hasn’t heard me. I’m not about to let her get away with that.

  I turn abruptly, trapping her against the wall of the hallway, one arm on either side of her shoulders.

  “Sophia…” I say, a warning in my voice. “What areas?”

  She’s still having trouble meeting my eyes. “Just a few general lessons—”

  “Be specific.”

  Finally, she meets my gaze, and she’s suddenly her usual, stubborn self again.

  “I don’t know if you noticed back there,” she says, “but you still desperately need a lot of help. I’d say another week or two with Monsieur Bonnaire at the very least.”

  A week or two? Oh, God, I don’t think I’d survive another hour with that stuffy, suited man.

  But Sophia isn’t done yet. “There are other things you need to learn, too. We’ll need to make you an appointment with the tailor—first to get you some appropriate clothes made, but also to make sure you know what to wear for different occasions and different times of day. Then the dancing instructor—”

  “Wait, I’m going to have to take dance lessons?”

  She continues on as if I haven’t spoken. “And elocution lessons, of course. Then you’ll need to meet with the tutor to learn the history and laws of Montovia, and William also suggested you take some horseback riding lessons, since Father enjoys riding when the weather is nice. And—”

  “Wait just a minute here. Exactly how many lessons are you expecting me to take?”

  She raises her chin. “As many as it takes. But to answer your question, William was kind enough to put together a list of eleven areas where you could use some—”

  “Eleven areas?”

  She nods. “I’ve looked it over, and I don’t think it’s unreasonable—”

  “Oh, it’s definitely unreasonable,” I say. “Look at me, Sophia. I don’t care how many lessons you force me to attend. I’m not the sort of guy who can be helped by a few dancing and horseback riding lessons. Do you really think forcing me to listen to a bunch of pompous dirtbags is going to turn me into a proper prince?”

  “No,” she says. “But it’ll go a long way with my father. Isn’t that why we’re here? You’re the one who said you wanted to win my father over.”

  “Yeah, with my charm.”

  She laughs. “Your charm doesn’t exactly translate here. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

  “I’ve got other charm,” I say. “How is being a good dancer going to help?”

  “Because my father will see that you’re trying. That you’re making an effort to fit in and do things our way.”

  “Your way went out of style a century ago.”

  She crosses her arms. “Not here, it didn’t.”

  I straighten, running a hand through my hair. “This is insane. I’m never going to be what he wants.”

  “Can you just go to the lessons, please? For me?” She grabs the front of my shirt. “Just try. Do what you can. It’ll help soften up my father, I promise.”

  “And what do I get in return?” I ask, stepping closer to her. “More promises of sexual favors?”

  “If that’s what you want,” she says, tilting her head back as I press against her. “You can have all the sexual favors you want.”

  I can’t believe I’m even considering going along with this. Why can’t I seem to deny this woman anything?

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll go to these lessons. But I can’t promise I’ll be the prince your father wants me to be.”

  “Just try—”

  “I’ll try. But I think it’s only fair to warn you that I require a down-payment for my efforts.”

  “A down-payment?”

  In response, I tilt my face down to hers. “And I intend to collect right now.”

  I kiss her deeply, my tongue sliding into her mouth. After a brief hesitation, her arms come up around my neck, and I push her back up against the wall, pushing my body fully against hers.

  My hunger for her has been insatiable since I woke up from my coma. Of course, I couldn’t do much about it while I was in the hospital—not that I didn’t try—but now that I’m free, I intend to take full advantage. Sex morning, noon, and night. Anywhere goes.

  One of my hands grabs the side of her neck, and the other slides up her body and cups her breast. She groans, and I kiss her deeper, tilting her head back even further.

  I’ll do anything for this woman. Even if it ends up making me look ridiculous. But if she thinks a few lessons are going to transform me into someone else, she’s got a surprise coming.

  I drop both hands down to the hem of her blouse, then slip them beneath the fabric, gliding over the bare skin of her stomach and creeping back up to her chest. She continues to moan softly, and the sound turns into a whimper when my fingers slide under her bra and brush against her nipples. I’m going to fuck her right here, right against this wall—

  A throat clears, very loudly, just behind us.

  Immediately, Sophia pushes me away. Her cheeks are bright red, and even though her eyes are still dark with lust, she glances around nervously.

  I take my time turning. Mostly so I have time to rein in my annoyance instead of wildly swinging a fist at whoever decided to interrupt us.

  My temper doesn’t improve when I see who it is—the king’s pompous, stocky butler.

  What was his name again? Sebastian? Steven? Silvio?

  “Stephan,” Sophia says breathlessly. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Apparently not,” he replies with a sniff. “This sort of behavior is not appropriate, Your Highness. Rest assured the king will hear of it.” He starts back down the hallway.

  “Wait,” Sophia says. “We were just kissing. We’re going back to my suite now.”<
br />
  “That was more than just kissing, Your Highness,” Stephan says with a sneer. “As I said, highly inappropriate.”

  I’m not going to let this weasel get away with this shit.

  “Look, you little punk,” I say, starting toward him. “Just mind your own damn business, okay? Leave us the fuck alone or I’ll—”

  Sophia grabs my arm, tugging me back.

  “Not. Helping,” she says tightly out of the side of her mouth. To Stephan, she forces a smile. “What my husband was trying to say is that we’d really appreciate it if you let it slide this time. We promise you it won’t happen again.”

  Stephan gives another sniff. “Good day, Your Highness.” Then he turns his head and marches down the hall.

  “You should’ve let me at him,” I say. “He’s going to tell your father.”

  “Nothing we could have said or done would have stopped him,” she replies. “Do you really think threatening him would have made this better? This is what I’m talking about, Pax. You need to be careful.”

  “I am careful.”

  She gives me a look that says she has no time for my bullshit right now.

  “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll try. I just hate that little weasel.”

  “We all do, trust me.” She grabs my hand. “Now let’s get back to our suite before we cause another scandal.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  We haven’t even made it to dinner yet and I’ve already managed to fuck up, I think as we head down the hall. I know Sophia thinks she can train me to be the sort of man her father approves of, but the truth is obvious: we’re fucking screwed.

  Sophia

  We nap in each other’s arms for the rest of the afternoon. He may be trying to hide it, but Pax is still recovering.

  I look over at the scar in the middle of his chest, lightly tracing my fingers over it. He took that bullet for me. Being here in Montovia, he continues to take bullets for me. I’m sure Stephan went straight to my father to tell him of my indiscretions, and I’m sure I’ll hear all about it. I don’t want to make things more difficult for Pax. He’s already giving up so much by being here for me at all.

  He stirs after another moment, looking down at me with a grin before kissing my forehead. “Ready for another round?”

  I can’t help but return his smile. “We should probably dress for dinner.”

  His hand grazes across my skin, running down my side before he grabs hold of my hip, pulling me next to him. “I’m sure we can find time.”

  “We only have half an hour—”

  “More than enough time.” His voice is almost a growl.

  “Pax…” I slap playfully at his shoulder. “It’s going to take you as long to dress as it will me.”

  “It takes me two seconds to get dressed. And it will probably only take you five—”

  “I don’t think you were listening at your etiquette lessons today.” I slide out of his arms, sitting up on the side of the bed. “It isn’t like you can just pull on your jeans. You’ll need to shower and shave. And we’ll have to make sure—”

  He cuts me off with a loud sigh. “Fine. If I can prove to you that it won’t take me half an hour, you’re going to give me the rest of the time to bend you over that chair over there.” He waggles his eyebrows, motioning in the direction of the dressing table in the corner. “And then, with the time we have left over, I’ll probably take you again over there.” He hitches a thumb in the opposite direction. “And after that—”

  “I know you think you’re Hercules, but Pax…” I smile over at him. “You know what? Prove me wrong.”

  He laughs as he leaps from the bed. “I love a challenge.” He races past me and goes into the washroom, starting the shower only a moment later.

  I walk into my closet, pulling a formal dress from a hanger. I should probably shower myself, but if I put my hair up, I can likely get away with skipping it.

  Normally, I’d call my lady’s maid to help me with dressing—the zippers on these stiff dresses are nearly impossible to pull up by myself—but considering Pax is here, I’ll let him help me, though I’m sure it will only lead to more fondling which might very likely lead to us being late for dinner.

  I need to impress my family, I think. That’s the only reason Pax needs to go through these etiquette lessons at all. If I can prove to my father once and for all that Pax is worthwhile, he’ll hopefully lift his idiotic restrictions on us and recognize our relationship for what it is. I suppose if I had a lick of sense about me, I wouldn’t care what my father thinks.

  But I do. I can’t give up my life here without a fight. And I’m thankful that Pax seems to understand at least a little of my reasoning.

  Only a few minutes later, Pax races out of the bathroom and into my closet.

  I’m still only half-dressed when he arrives, still soaking wet.

  “Done.” He grins. “I say we save the suit for last, and go straight over to the chair—”

  “No.” I shake my head at him, smiling. “The deal was you had to get ready first. And you can hardly put on a suit while you’re still dripping wet.”

  “Fair enough.” He glances around the room. “Have a towel in here?”

  I laugh. “The towels are in the washroom. If you’d taken a moment—”

  He’s racing out of the room before I can finish my thought and is back again only a moment later, a fluffy beige towel in his hand. “Care to dry my back?”

  “You’re incorrigible.” But I take the towel, patting at the droplets sliding down his spine. “And this does not mean—”

  He cuts me off as he spins around, planting a kiss on my mouth. “It means exactly that.” He grins against my lips. “How much time do we have?”

  “Eighteen minutes.”

  “Plenty of time.” He slips my dress from my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. “Now, how about that reward—”

  “Incorrigible.” I pick up my dress from the floor, sliding it back over my arms before I turn around. “Can you help me with the zipper, please?”

  He lets out an audible sigh as he glides the zipper up my back. “I hope you know, this is just coming right back off—”

  “You’ll have to work your magic around it, Hercules. I still have to do my hair. And we aren’t going to have much time—”

  “I told you how much I love a challenge.” He spins me around, planting another kiss on my lips before shooing me toward the door. “You better get going. Our deal doesn’t include how long it takes you.”

  “Fair enough.” I shake my head as I move toward the washroom. It only takes me a few minutes to put my hair up, and a few minutes more to put on enough makeup to satisfy my father’s requirements for dinner.

  I head back for the closet as soon as I’m ready, which is much faster than I normally am.

  I find Pax with the dinner suit in his hand, still on the hanger, frowning down at it.

  “I thought you’d be dressed by now.” I look at the jacket. “Is there a problem—”

  “This is what I’m supposed to wear?” He glares at the clothing without meeting my gaze.

  “It belongs to William. He’s the closest in size to you. We’ll have a few custom-made so that they fit better—”

  “It has nothing to do with how they fit.” He sets his jaw. “Have you ever felt one of these things?”

  I walk over, pinching the fabric between my fingers. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Feel it. Have you ever felt anything so starchy in your life?”

  My brow furrows. “It a traditional dinner suit, Pax. The shirt and jacket are starched—”

  “The one in the stupid manners lesson didn’t feel like this.” He shakes his head at the clothes. “This is bullshit.”

  I chew on my lip for a moment. “I’ll make sure they launder yours tomorrow to have a bit less starch. But you’ll be glad—”

  “I’ll be glad?” He lifts a brow. “There is not a damn thing about t
his suit that I’ll be glad about, Sophia. It’s bad enough that I have to try to remember which of the fourteen fucking forks I have to use at dinner tonight.”

  “There won’t be fourteen forks. I already told you that.” I let out a sigh. “I know you’re frustrated. And I’ve told you how much I appreciate you trying to do this—”

  “I know. I’m just…pissed.” He glares down at the suit for another moment before lifting his gaze to mine. “It isn’t your fault. But I shouldn’t have to pretend to be something I’m not to impress a bunch of people I don’t care about.”

  Tears fill my eyes. Of course he shouldn’t have to try to impress my family. I’m not sure why I ever thought he should.

  He watches me in silence for a moment before hanging the suit on one of the hooks on the wall. He pulls on his underwear and a crisp white T-shirt before pulling on the trousers and beginning to button his formal dress shirt. He shakes his head, mumbling something to himself.

  I take a step forward, but the sharp look he gives me makes me stop in my tracks.

  “You look nice, by the way.” He works his jaw as he pulls the stiff coat on over his shirt. “Buttoned, right?”

  I nod, taking another hesitant step toward him.

  “What do you think?” He turns to face me, holding his hands out to his sides. “Not much to look at, right?”

  “You may not want to admit it to yourself, but you look every bit as much a prince as any of my brothers.”

  “You’re just saying that.” He turns to look into one of the full-length mirrors on the wall of the closet. “I look like an asswipe.”

  “A very dapper asswipe at that.” I step beside him, pulling the tie off the hanger before sliding it around his neck and helping to tie it. “You really do look very handsome, Pax.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m like the Frog Prince, but no one ever bothered to change me from the frog to the prince.”

  “Not true.” I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss him on his cheek. “And all it took was a kiss from the princess, right? I think you’re safe.”