Royal Baby

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by Layla Valentine


  I grabbed at the nightstand next to my bed, trying to find the alarm. It was difficult with my head buried in my pillow, but I knew once I’d hit the snooze button, I would feel a lot better. Finally, my hand came down hard on the alarm clock and I sighed as I picked up the pillow on the opposite side of the bed and jammed it over my ears.

  The clerk at the front desk had found it humorous that I’d chosen a room with a king-size bed for just myself, but I didn’t care. I had slept well that night, and I had to admit that I was glad when I woke up and there was no one there with me bright and early in the morning.

  When my alarm went off once again, I knew it was time to get up despite the fact I wanted nothing more than to sleep in. I hadn’t gone out the night before. Quite the opposite, in fact. I had spent much of the night on my laptop, researching only the best venues to throw a last-minute wedding.

  Most of the places I checked out were already booked up, and I was beginning to feel discouraged. Antonio was depending on me to pull this together in time for him and his fiancée to be married before I headed back to the States, and I wanted to make sure their day was perfect. Not only was this going to be one of the best pieces in my portfolio, I will be able to tell everyone that I got to organize a royal marriage.

  I knew without the photos it would be impossible to get anyone to believe my work, and I silently prayed the bride wouldn’t mind if I had the pick of the lot when it came to the snapshots I put next to my name. Of course, I did my best work with every celebration I planned, but this was different. This was my chance to take my career to the next level.

  I drifted off for a few minutes before waking once again with a start. I felt intensely aroused and, with a sheepish smile, began to recall the details from the dream I was having the night before. I could remember many of them quite vividly, and I couldn’t help but reach down and touch myself at the thought of them.

  My dream had largely consisted of me and Antonio. I had been back on the beach looking for my shoe and he’d come out of nowhere. I had been far bolder in my dream, ready to flirt with him and make moves I never would have made in real life.

  Much as had happened that day, it had started with a rather normal greeting—he’d come up to me and we’d begun talking. But in my dream, I reached forward and put my hand on his chest. It had been a strong, muscular chest that sent a shock through my entire body. He’d reached forward and hooked his hand behind my lower back, pulling me upward and inward toward him. I hadn’t had a moment to think before he’d pressed his lips firmly against mine.

  The kiss began slowly, then grew with passion and hunger the longer we stood on the beach. Of course, being the dream that it was, I had no idea how long we actually kissed, but it felt like blissful heaven no matter how long it was. I’d let my hands explore him, peeling off his shirt and revealing his toned and muscular body beneath.

  I’d had my hands at the belt of his jeans and eagerly undid the zipper. All the while, his own hands and mouth were caressing my body with passion, curiosity, and fervor. We explored each other, feeding into our lust and our passion all the while. A warm breeze was running up the beach, flowing through my hair and bringing out goose pimples on my skin.

  As I lay in bed with my eyes closed, I thought about how satisfying an experience it had been, and how I hadn’t wanted it to end. Of course, in the dream I had no idea that I was doomed to wake up, and all I could think about was the thing coming next. I’d pulled down his pants, revealing his large, hardened self. I’d been so wet I didn’t need any more foreplay, and I remembered how I felt an intense pressure between my legs as he entered me.

  I could hardly breathe, my body moving in the same rhythm as his own. I’d arched into him, allowing him to slip his hands beneath my hips and lift me toward him. In the dream, all my inhibitions had vanished, and I was a tigress, knowing exactly what I wanted and not being afraid to reach out and take it. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted exactly—all I knew was that I had woken all too soon.

  From the feel of my underwear, I had grown wet just through the thought of it all, and I knew exactly what my next move would be.

  Sliding out of bed, I had a sly smile on my face as I headed for the bathroom. The dream was still fresh enough in my mind, I knew it wasn’t going to take much for me to reenact at least part of it in the shower.

  Chapter 8

  Sasha

  “I’d like to take it for the whole day, if possible. No, they are going to use it in the afternoon, but we’re going to need time to set everything up. That’s right. No, it doesn’t matter who’s there. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Yes, okay then, goodbye.” I sighed as I hung up and looked up toward the ceiling.

  There was a time in my life when I couldn’t imagine anything more romantic than the idea of spreading out my things and working in a coffee shop, and if my childhood self could see me now, I would have exploded from excitement knowing one day I would get to sit in an actual Italian café and sip on coffee while I made a series of last-minute phone calls.

  As I absentmindedly stirred the coffee, I thought about the stroke of luck I’d just had. A venue I had called several times the evening before had had a cancellation, and I had been able to secure the room for Antonio’s wedding. Of course, that was just the first step. After taking a breather, I was going to be back on the phone to set up an appointment to get flowers, look at decorations, and, of course, check out the cake.

  Antonio had messaged me that morning and told me that I had his full permission to go crazy with the wedding, and to do things however I wanted. I didn’t understand how royalty worked or what they expected from their wedding, I just knew that I wanted to make it a day neither one of them would forget.

  Perhaps if I impressed them enough, they would recommend me to others—other royalty even. I didn’t know for sure, but I could imagine that if someone was in a royal family, or at least the Prince of some nation, they would have connections to other princes and princesses.

  As the day wore on, I was surprised at the fact I felt guilty, off and on. It wasn’t at all like me to feel this way after having an erotic dream, but there was something about the previous night’s fantasy that left me feeling unsettled. Perhaps it was because of the incredible detail of the dream, or perhaps it had to do with the fact I hadn’t yet met the bride. In fact, didn’t even know her name.

  Though I had Antonio’s number, I didn’t want to bother him unnecessarily, but I found myself facing a surprising number of questions. This wasn’t my first wedding, by a long way, but there was something about Antonio that made me really want to impress him. Nothing would be better than seeing him walk into the ceremony and have his mind blown away by everything that I had lined up.

  I wanted candles to adorn the walls, flowers scattered along the pews, and petals on the floor. I wanted there to be grand bouquets at the front of the room, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I wanted the room to be pure white, though I could sense that this man hadn’t necessarily kept himself for the marriage bed.

  I wanted there to be a regal elegance to the room—one that the King and Queen would be proud to walk into as they supported their son in his union. And that was just the beginning. I had planned the reception hall to be just as elaborate, and I couldn’t wait to put my ideas to use inside the room.

  The cake was to be glorious—pure white with gold trim and an exquisite design running throughout. I wanted the cake to capture the imagination of all the guests, and leave them feeling as if they were in a fairy-tale wedding. The more I planned, the more things came to mind, and the more I wanted to accomplish in the little time that I had.

  Part of me wished I had met Antonio at the beginning of my trip. If I had, I would have had more than enough time to plan and achieve everything that was running through my mind. As it was, I found myself limited to what was available. The ideas running through my mind were boundless, but making them a reality was going to take a lot of work.

  There just
wasn’t the manpower available to do everything I wanted to do, and I was constantly asking him for further funds. It became so incessant that he gave me the number of his accountant, telling both us to take care of these things ourselves and leave him out of it. I had to admit, though I was pleased to have what appeared to be unlimited funding to pull off this wedding, I was slightly disappointed that I didn’t have a reason to communicate with the Prince directly.

  I was looking for a reason to text him, simply because I liked the way his name looked when it flashed across my screen. Ignoring the feelings of guilt that would crop up every now and then, I would get flutters in my heart when my phone lit up and I saw it was him. Of course, he kept all the contact with me strictly wedding-related—as he should—but it didn’t matter to me.

  All I wanted was to have some kind of interaction with him, however brief it may be. But, with the way things were coming together for the wedding, I was having less and less reason to contact him. That is, until another thought struck me.

  I had a strange feeling in the back of my mind that I was forgetting something. It wasn’t at all like me to feel this way while I was working, and I blamed the fact I was incredibly attracted to the groom as the reason why I felt unsettled. However, when I finally realized what it was causing me to feel like that, I couldn’t get on my phone fast enough.

  Instead of texting, I immediately tried to call him, but there was no answer. I thought about leaving a message, but this was just too pressing, so I tried once more. When I got his voicemail again, I hung up with an exasperated sigh. After a few seconds of hesitation, I grabbed my phone and flipped open the keypad.

  Something’s come up that I need to discuss with you, call me as soon as you can.

  I hit send and waited, hoping Antonio would get back to me quickly. It was forty-five minutes before he did, and by that time I was nearly frantic.

  “Antonio! Yes, sorry to bother you like this. I’ve got most everything taken care of on this end, but there is one thing that I can’t do from here—the dress.” I laughed nervously, but I could hear by the way he let out air on his end that he wasn’t as amused by the situation as I thought he would be. There was a moment of silence, and I wondered if I ought to say something else when he spoke.

  “Of course! What was I thinking? The dress is the most important part of the wedding, and here I am in England without you having anything to go on! I’ll tell you what, I’ll send my private jet back for you and fly you over here this afternoon. You’ll meet my bride and the two of you can go and get the dress fitted, all right?” His voice was cheerful, but I could hear that it was forced.

  Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what it was, but I had a feeling about this marriage that made me wonder if there was something going on behind the scenes. They certainly didn’t appear to be getting married for love, but what was it?

  “Oh wow, um, okay. That would be great. I’ve never flown on a private jet before, but I’d love to. Where do I meet you?” I felt a mix of excitement and nerves at the prospect, but he didn’t seem worried about it.

  “You’ll be met with a cab when you land, and they’ll bring you here. Don’t worry, you’ll be looked after, I’ll see you soon.” He didn’t stay on the line much longer, giving me only a few directions of who to look for and what to expect, and with that, he hung up.

  I quickly gathered my things and stuffed them into my purse, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t believe the turn my career—and my life—had taken. Here I was, preparing to fly to England by private jet. It seemed unreal. I glanced over my shoulder at the café as I left, wondering once again what it would be like to live this kind of life all the time.

  “Come on, Sasha, focus. You’re going to have to return to the real world soon enough, may as well live this up while you can.” I smiled as I muttered to myself, slipping out of the café and onto the sidewalk.

  I was happy to postpone real life for as long as possible.

  Chapter 9

  Sasha

  “I trust the flight went well?”

  Antonio looked at me with concern as I stepped out of the cab, and I assured him it had been better than I could have imagined. A beautiful young woman stood at his side, and I could only assume she was his fiancée. She had a critical, hard look about her and seemed to analyze the situation quickly.

  I gave her a warm smile, though I decided to focus all my attention on Antonio. He was the one I had been speaking with the longest, so I felt most comfortable talking to him.

  “Like I said, I’ve never flown privately before, so I’m sure I drove your crew crazy.” I laughed nervously, and was relieved when Antonio joined in. The woman at his side gave him a sidelong look, and I thought I could detect a wave of jealousy pass over her eyes. I did my best to ignore the thought that rose in the back of my mind, clearing my throat and changing the subject.

  “You must be the future Mrs. di Maggio?” I asked with a warm smile. She gave me a smirk and extended her hand as Antonio introduced us.

  “Yes, this is Miss Sophia Beckenham-Huxtable, my fiancée. Currently she lives here in London with her family, which is why she has been unable to partake in the wedding plans, but she trusts you as much as I do, so we're certain we’ll be thrilled with your vision. We do, however, need to make sure the dress will fit her, so you’ll be here helping with that.

  “Of course. And can I just say how much I’m looking forward to getting to know the two of you as a couple as we work together to find the perfect dress.” I looked hopefully from one to the other, but my heart sank as Antonio raised his hand.

  “I wish I could stay and help the two of you, but unfortunately, I’m needed back in Italy. Besides, I’ve heard that I's dreadfully bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her gown before the wedding, and I don’t want to do anything to jinx our marriage.” Antonio put his hand around Sophia’s waist, then kissed her on the side of the forehead.

  Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought there was a cold tension between them as he made the gesture, and I couldn’t help but wonder once again if there was something going on that neither one of them wanted to mention. Then again, it was none of my business—they were free to do as they pleased, and if that meant they were going to get married for any reason besides love, so be it.

  Antonio had hired me for the sole purpose of planning the wedding, not giving my advice on personal matters, and it was up to me to not ask any questions that were none of my business, and follow through with what I was told to do.

  But it was tough. Every time I saw the man, I felt my heart flutter in my chest, and when I saw him press his lips to the side of her head, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealously well up from deep inside of me. I silently kicked myself at the thought, forcing it out of my mind and turning my attention to the dress prospect.

  “Darling, must you go? You know I don’t believe in luck, and I would rather you were here to see me in the dress before our wedding day.” Sophia put both her hands over Antonio’s, clearly being as seductive as possible. I looked down at my phone, doing my best to appear busy.

  There was a cold tone to the way Antonio answered her. “You know that I have business to tend to at home, and it’s only going to become more pressing as time goes on. Besides, you know how Mother is. If she were to find out that I saw you before the ceremony, she’d be furious.” Antonio gave her another light kiss, but once again I felt it was all for show.

  He turned to me. “You’re going to have Sophia here to answer most of your questions, and, of course, you are still free to use as much funding as you need to pull this off. I don’t care what the dress costs. As long as she gets what she wants, I’m happy. If you’re stuck, feel free to give me a call.” He smiled and my cheeks flushed, and I desperately hoped Sophia hadn’t noticed.

  Although I was eager to get started with the dress fitting, Sophia insisted she stand and wave at Antonio as the car pulled away. Part of me felt awkward standing on
the steps waiting for her. I didn’t know if I ought to also wave my farewell to the man or simply act as though I didn’t notice. I decided to go for the latter. Once again, I stared down at the blank screen of my phone, not even bothering to unlock the screen.

  No one noticed that I was pretending to look at my phone while the man I was infatuated with was sent off by the woman he was going to marry. Try as I might to not judge the situation, I couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be a tension in the way she waved at him, as though she, too, were bluffing rather than genuinely being sad that he was leaving.

  As soon as the cab had disappeared from view, she turned to me.

  “Miss Greening, thank you for coming all this way. Antonio has spoken highly of you, and I knew I didn’t want anyone else to touch my dress but the best!” She gave me a cruel smile, and I was trying to determine whether she was being sarcastic or not. I feigned a smile and nodded, extending my hand.

  “Miss Beckenham-Huxtable, you have no idea what an honor it is for me to be here. I have wanted nothing more than to plan a royal wedding, and here I am, doing that very thing for a prince and future princess!” I smiled, but I could see by the way she was looking at me that she was scrutinizing everything I did. It was as though she was trying to see if there was more to my involvement with Antonio than I was letting on.

  She seemed to me moderately satisfied—at least satisfied enough with my response since she turned and began walking up the steps.

  “Please, come in and have something to drink. You must be exhausted after your journey, and I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable on our excursion. I’m going to slip into something a little more comfortable, and we’ll be off.” She spoke over her shoulder to me as I followed her up the stairs, and I did my best to keep up with her.

 

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