Royal Academy

by McKenna James

  “You okay?” she asked in a concerned voice.

  “Yeah, sure.” I couldn't very well tell her that the sight of her tight ass and bulging cleavage had caused my Johnson to stand at attention, so I lied. “Just a little sick from the beer. It's been a good while since I had one,” I explained.

  “Oh, no. I'm sorry. Would you like some water or something?”

  Her concern for me made me even hotter for her. I was afraid that the general was going to stand at attention again.

  I tried my best, as the evening wore on, to keep my mind off of her body and what it would feel like to be with her. It wasn't the easiest thing to do. I wanted all of her. Though I hoped she hadn't noticed. Judging by her constant talk of our project, she didn't seem to want to reciprocate at all. Just as well, I wouldn't dare sleep with her on the first date anyway. I liked her too much for that. I wanted her, but I also wanted it to be at the right time. Eliza Noble didn’t strike me as the type of girl who hopped into bed with just anyone.

  No, I felt it would be a while before we reached that stage of our friendship or relationship, or whatever we had. I wasn't sure I knew what it was we had, but it was something that I wanted to explore.

  Chapter 6

  Eliza

  As I held my books in my lap, I couldn't get over the fact that Prince Andrew Harrington was sitting on my couch in my flat! I still had reservations about the Royals as a whole, let's face it, it wasn’t every day that a girl just happened to have His Royal Highness only two feet away from her.

  We had tons of work to get done, and I was truly trying to come up with some ideas to present to him, but I was becoming a little taken with him. Was it the fact that he was royalty? Or was it the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous? Or both, maybe?

  Definitely the latter, I thought. After all he didn't have that effect on me when I first met him in the parking lot nor in the classroom. But there, on my sofa, he was actually getting to me. I felt my heart speed up a tad, and my palms were starting to sweat.

  Knock it off, you silly schoolgirl! You have work to do!

  “So?” his husky voice rang out in the dead silence, startling me quite terribly.

  “Ooh!” I exclaimed as I nearly jumped off the couch.

  We both laughed.

  “I'm sorry I gave you a start,” he said.

  “It's okay,” I returned.

  When I looked at him, everything was different. The mood was different, lighter. The room seemed to have a soft glow to it. His face was even more handsome than when I had looked at him only ten minutes prior. What was going on? Could it be the wine? Was I tipsy? That had to be it. The alcohol had gone to my head and caused me to relax a little too much.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  “Huh? Oh, sure. Yeah,” I said as I tried to figure out what in the hell was going on. “I think I probably shouldn't have any more wine if we're going to get our topic done tonight.”

  “Yeah, no more beer for me either,” he said as he set the bottle on the table next to him.

  “So here's what I have so far.” I handed him the paper on which I had been scribbling. I watched as his gorgeous grey eyes scanned the page from top to bottom. The nod of his head let me know that he liked my ideas, which pleased me tremendously. I felt some sort of satisfaction as if a teacher had just given me a great mark. Why? Why did it matter suddenly what Andrew thought of my ideas? I was a strong, independent woman who needed no one to stroke my ego in order to feel good about myself.

  “I think you made some valid points there,” he said as he laid the paper on my lap.

  The slight touch of his hand against my leg caused a sensation to stir in me that I had never felt before. I looked at him and smiled.

  God, he was gorgeous!

  He was the most handsome guy that I had ever seen. I didn't think I had taken the time to truly look at him before that moment. I had just looked past him and not really at him.

  “Thank you,” I managed to reply. “I guess we'll put a couple of my talking points in the paper and two or three of yours.” I pointed at my notes.

  “Sounds great.”

  My face burned with heat, and I knew that I had to be blushing. What was happening to me? I felt flush and kinda dizzy suddenly. I wasn't sure what it was, but I had never felt this before with anyone.

  “I think I'm going to get some water. Would you like a bottle as well?” I asked.

  I had to do something. I was beginning to sweat inside my shirt, and that was the last thing I wanted him to see.

  “Sure, thank you.”

  I opened the refrigerator door and just stood there, allowing the cool air to envelope me.

  Ah, refreshing. That should do it.

  “Here you go.” I handed him the bottle as I walked into the living room and sat beside him again.

  “Thank you very much. I think the beer wasn’t agreeing with me,” he stated before chugging half the bottle of mineral water.

  I giggled. “Yeah, I think the wine wasn't a good idea for me either.”

  “So?” he asked.

  “So…” I returned.

  “Now what?” He seemed as curious as I was.

  “Oh. Well, I can type up the summary tonight and bring it to our next class.”

  “That sounds great,” he said hesitantly.

  I got the feeling that he didn't want to leave because he made no effort to move. He was just sitting there, staring at me.

  “Is there anything else?” I questioned.

  “Kicking me out are ya?” I thought he was joking, but I couldn’t read him well enough to be sure.

  I fidgeted with my fingers and searched for the right response. “I mean, you’re welcome…”

  He cut me off. “Eliza, we’re going to be working very closely together this semester. Approximately four months. I think we should know a little more about each other.”

  There was an air of confidence that surrounded him as he spoke that I hadn’t heard from any man before.

  “Oh … what would you like to know?” I turned toward him and crossed my legs in front of me.

  “Everything. Other than your name and where you live, I know absolutely nothing about you. So anywhere you'd like to start would be great,” he added.

  “Okay, well, I was born in south London, I attended public school all of my life, and now I'm at university.” I was quick and to the point without divulging much detail of my background. “Your turn,” I said as I picked up my water.

  He laughed heartily. “Well, I'm afraid I'm going to need more information than that. I could have told you that much, and I'm not even a psychic.”

  His smile was beautiful. His teeth were perfectly straight and as white as the snow that lay on the ground. It was apparent that he had come from wealth. Only the richest kids grew up having regular dental visits. His jaw was strong and made him look almost a bit rugged. He wasn't pretty, like some members of royalty were, but more masculine and robust.

  “I'm afraid that's all there is to me. What you see is what you get,” I said as I shifted myself on the couch.

  “Okay, so where do I start?” he asked as he looked up at the ceiling, pretending to be in deep thought.

  “Come on,” I encouraged.

  “Alright, I was born to the Queen of England eighteen years ago. I am second in line to the throne, although some say that I will be the one who inherits it, eventually. I have one brother, Edward, a sister, Abigail, a sister-in-law, Maggie, one nephew Heath, and one on the way; although we don't yet know what the sex is. How's that?” He smiled and raised his eyebrows. I was sure he wanted to know if his answers met with my approval.

  “Drew, I already knew everything you just told me. I mean, who doesn't know all those details? You're the bloody Prince, for God's sake. Your mother is our Queen. Your family was the subject of an entire class in elementary. So those things were already a given.”

  We laughed together. His sandy brown hair seemed to glisten in
the light of my living room, so much so that I wanted to reach over and run my fingers through it. But I couldn't. There was no way that I was going to just touch him without an invitation to do so.

  “My turn,” he said.

  He took a deep breath and squinted his eyes at me. I knew he was probably trying to come up with a good question to ask.

  “Oh, I've got it!” he exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “What are the names of your parents?”

  I smiled. “Good one. They are Oliver and Martha Noble.”

  “Alright,” he continued. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Yes, I have an older sister. Maryann. She is twenty-eight.”

  “Now we're getting somewhere,” he said with a smile. “So what do your parents do for a living?”

  That question was one I would have rather avoided, especially with the Prince. Not that I was ashamed of what my mother did, but my father's job was a very touchy subject in which I wasn't willing to divulge.

  “You know what? I think our little game of twenty questions is over. I am getting sleepy,” I said with a feigned yawn.

  “Oh, come on.” He looked at his watch as I looked at the clock on the wall behind him. It was only nine-thirty, and I knew that he wasn't going to buy the fib I had just told.

  “Don't you want me to know anything about your parents?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Well, it's just that...” I trailed off, dreading explaining it all to him.

  “What? Come on, you can tell me anything,” he coaxed in a voice as smooth as honey.

  Oh, God, I'd been dreading this since the day I saw him in class. I didn't want him to know. I didn't want anyone to know, for that matter.

  “Please, Eliza,” he said in a tone so smooth, I lost my train of thought. “You know all about me, now tell me about your family.”

  I didn't know if it was his slate grey eyes or the way he'd just said my name, but I lost my senses and began to spill my guts.

  “Okay, okay. Promise me that this won't make a difference in our friendship,” I said, unsure whether the information would change everything or not make an impact at all.

  “Promise.” He was serious now.

  “Okay,” I said with a huge sigh. “My father's name is Oliver Noble, but that's not his full name.”

  I stopped. How could I tell him who my father really was? How could I face him after he knew? Or better yet, would he still want to be friends with me after he knew the truth?

  “Okay, what is his full name?” he asked innocently.

  “His name is James Oliver Noble.”

  I waited for his reaction to the bomb I'd just dropped on him; except, there was none.

  “I guess I'm not following you. Is that supposed to mean something?” He leaned forward, intruding in my space.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “No, not at all. It's just his name.”

  I was extremely relieved, to say the least, that he was oblivious to the fact that I had just spilled the beans on who my father was. I would have thought for sure that just the mere mention of his name would have sent him spiraling into a frenzy. Finding out that your friend's dad worked for the biggest tabloid in London, one in which your family had been the target of countless articles, both true and false, was something that would probably end the friendship right then and there. He would more than likely ruin my name at school as well.

  No, I didn't want my father's identity getting out, but it seemed to not have any effect on Drew, so I continued to speak of my parents.

  “My mum is a wonderful woman. She is kind, generous, and has the most rotten sense of humor. She is always embarrassing us with her gaudy jokes. I swear sometimes I don't think that woman has a filter at all.”

  “And what about your sister? Does she have the same sense of humor as your mum?” he asked, staring at me and hanging onto my every word.

  He was honestly interested in where I came from and what my parents did. It was refreshing and nerve wracking all at the same time. I wanted to get to know him better. I wanted us to bond and be friends, but I knew that it was a long shot. It was only a matter of time before he would come to know the truth of my father and then it would end, terribly I was afraid.

  I had to remind myself not to get too close, so that I wouldn't be hurt when it all came to light.

  “Uh, no. She's like my dad,” I returned the shortest answer possible, hoping that it would cut things off right where they were and it would be his cue to leave; although, I found myself not wanting him to go.

  “What else would you like to know about me?” he asked, to my surprise.

  I was glad that he turned it back to himself.

  “Okay, let's see…” I tried to think of a good question to ask. “Oh, I've got it! Are you smart or do you have someone who does all of your work for you?”

  He cocked his head to the side and frowned at me. “Really?” he asked with disdain.

  “Hey, it's a valid question. Have you seen all of those people in the news lately who are in trouble for attending college but not having test scores that were good enough to get them there?” I was trying to justify my question.

  “Come on,” he said in a calm tone. “Don't be so quick to believe what you hear. You should wait until all of the facts come out before you judge them.”

  He was right. This was the second time I had made an assumption about his life—his intellect—and it was obvious I had offended him. I had based my decision off of some news articles and stories that were flooding social media every second of every day, and it wasn't fair.

  “You're right. I'm sorry,” I offered.

  “It's no big deal. My family has been dragged through the mud by the press and by rag magazines all of my life. Almost all of what they print is either taken out of context or completely fabricated just to sell a few copies of that trash.”

  Oh my God! He would hate me when he found out my father worked for a tabloid. Should I tell him now, or let it go? Maybe I could let it go and pray that he wouldn’t find out until after the semester was over. By then, our work would be finished and we would have moved on.

  That was precisely what I would do. I had made the decision in less than ten seconds flat that I wouldn’t tell him anything else about my family.

  “Andrew,” I said in a somber tone, my heart hurting for him as if I had written those lies in the press instead of my father.

  “Yes?” he replied.

  “I am so sorry that you and your family have to read and hear that stuff that is printed about you. I hate those types of magazines.”

  I meant every word I said. I had always hated them. I hated what my father did for a living, but there was nothing I could do about it. It put food on our table and kept our bills paid. I didn't know any different life than that of what I had grown up with.

  “Eliza, I've learned to deal with it. However bad it is, I'm sure there are those in the world who have it much worse than my family and I do. There are starving children and people without suitable drinking water all around the globe. I want to use my influence as Prince whenever to help those who are less fortunate.”

  My heart melted with his words of compassion for poor people. Not only was he gorgeous, but he had a huge heart as well. What a wonderful guy. How I wished it could work out for him and I one day, but I knew that wasn't possible. There were just too many obstacles and secrets that would get in the way and ruin everything once exposed. No, we were better off just being study partners and going our separate ways in the spring.

  Chapter 7

  Drew

  I couldn't remember the last time I'd had that much fun just sitting and talking to someone. Eliza was the most intriguing girl I had ever met. She was mysterious and aloof without being snobby or putting on airs. She had a side to her that I definitely wanted to get to know better.

  As she spoke of her mum's dirty sense of humor, I watched her smile and twirl the wisps of hair that had fallen out of the twist and were caressing h
er cheek. She was so beautiful, with her perfect skin and alluring eyes. I wanted to take her in my arms right there and kiss her softly. I wanted to press my lips against her full pout and explore her mouth with my tongue. I wanted her, but I couldn't touch her. She was special; I knew that from the day I met her.

  Eliza Noble was not a one-night stand, and I wasn't going to even attempt to bed her. No, I wanted this to progress slowly so that we would know each other well before taking things to the next level. Besides, I didn't know if she was even remotely interested in me. She hadn't exactly shown me anything to lead me to believe that she wanted more than just a class project partner. I was going to have to change her mind. I had my work cut out for me, but I felt confident that I was up to the challenge.

  “What do you like to do in your spare time?” I asked, hoping she would mention something that I liked to do as well. If she did, I was going to turn it into an outing for us.

  “Well, I'm really a dreadfully boring person. I don't do much of anything except study.”

  “Oh come on. Everyone has hobbies they enjoy. There must be something you like doing,” I prodded. I was going to find it out even if it took me all night.

  “Okay, so this is going to sound silly,” she said with a smile as she glanced away in a playful manner.

  God, she was perfect from head to toe.

  “There are a couple of things I like to do, but if I tell you, you have to promise not to make fun of me,” she said as she leaned into me.

  “You have my word,” I replied.

  “Alright.” She looked at me with skepticism. “I like to watch those baking shows.”

  “That's it?” I asked incredulously. “You only like to watch baking shows? There has to be something more that you enjoy doing. I mean, there's only so many cupcake battles that one can truly enjoy,” I said as I laughed.

  “Well, I also like to hike,” she added.

  Yes! That was it!

  I loved hiking as well. I had gone with Clayton and his father every chance I got while we were growing up.