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Royally Damaged

Page 15

by Crowne, K. C.


  “We don't?”

  “Not if you can think of anything better to do.”

  He lifted the fallen strap of my dress up over my shoulder before straightening out his shirt and smoothing down his pants. I couldn't believe what I had just done, but I didn't regret a single second of it. I wanted to disappear with him up to his suite and not emerge until I was barely able to walk.

  “Lizzie?”

  Christy's voice came from around the corner of the wall and a moment later, her head popped round.

  “Where have you been?”

  Her eyes shifted between us as a look of realization came over her face.

  “Oh,” she said, and gave an embarrassed laugh. “Come in for a champagne toast?”

  Phil looked disappointed but smiled anyway.

  “Sure, we'll be right in,” he said as he stroked my back and whispered in my ear, “Later on I'll get you on my own.”

  And once again, my panties grew wet.

  Phil

  For the first time in a few days I decided to give my suit a rest and slipped into my board shorts. Down at the beach, I ordered a pina colada and sank my toes into the sand. The sun was already setting, and behind me people were congregating around the hotel restaurant looking for an early dinner. Around me, Steven and the team were strategically positioned to watch over me, but I was starting to get a little sick of their company. I just wished I could get two minutes alone.

  Of course, there was one person I wanted to talk to, and I reached for my phone for the only person who was ever any good at giving me advice. As always, he answered on the third ring.

  “Hey!” Henry said, sounding surprised. “It's been a long time since I've spoken to you last. I hope you've been keeping out of trouble. Although from what I heard that last night you've been up to your old tricks.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “That a certain kerfuffle broke out over a girl.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Stephen tells us everything.”

  “You mean he tells Dad everything.”

  “Same thing.”

  “You always were such a daddy's boy. Always the favorite.”

  “Could you blame him for thinking that?”

  I sipped my drink and looked out to sea. Soon, I would be slinking out of my board shorts and putting on another suit. Although I was starting to think I shouldn't bother since Lizzie seemed convinced I had stolen one the other night.

  “So,” continued Henry. “She must really be something if you were fighting over her. I've never known you to fight over a girl in my life.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “She is really something.”

  “I don't get it. You're never like this over a girl.”

  “I know. It's like I've been possessed. You should meet her, bro. She's like nothing you've ever seen. And she's a real hot head too. Doesn't seem to give a shit about what anybody thinks. Honestly, it's like she's not even interested in me at times.”

  “Oh, Philip. Does this mean you're getting the taste of being a mere mortal? Let me guess, for the first time in your life you've met a girl who played hard to get and didn't drop her pants the second she saw you.”

  “Pretty much,” I replied.

  “I take it your ego has taken a pounding.

  I disappeared inside my head for a moment.

  That wasn't all that took a pounding.

  I thought back to last night. Since the last time I saw her my head was filled the memory of how she sounded when she came. Every time I closed my eyes I could smell her. Each time I thought of her I was taken back to the very moment of feeling her silken skin against me. Even now I could grow hard at just the memory of entering her.

  She had tried so hard not to scream at the moment of climax, but she couldn't stop herself, and the sound of her trying to stifle her voice only made me harder.

  “Philip, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I'm here.”

  “What are you doing tonight anyway? I take it you're spoiling her again. Taking the yacht this time?”

  “Actually, we have a cheese and wine evening. Something her best friend dreamed up at the last minute and expected Lizzie to arrange.”

  “Sounds nice,” said Henry, “Although maybe a bit boring for you. Anyway you still haven't told me what's so special about her. She can't be any hotter than Bibi.”

  “She makes Bibi look like a carthorse,” I laughed. “Anyway, there's too much that's special about her. She's a real dream, Henry. I've never met anyone like her.”

  “So,” said Henry, “Is it love?”

  I thought for a second, staring out at the waves.

  Is it love? Or is it just lust?

  I had been mulling the question constantly in my head over the last couple of days. And the more I thought about it, the more I came to the same conclusion.

  “It's love,” I told Henry. “I really think it is.”

  “You're kidding,” he laughed, then fell silent when he realized I was being serious. “Wow,” he said. “So when can I meet her?”

  “You never will. She doesn't want to be with me.”

  “Shut up,” said Henry. “Of course she does. Every girl does.”

  “Everybody except her.”

  And just saying those words out loud hurt more than I realized they would. The rejection, the sense of inadequacy, it wasn't something I was used to.

  In a few days, the wedding was going to take place, and afterward we we're going to go our separate ways. Then it would be finished, just a bit of fun, just a holiday fling. Soon enough, she would be nothing but a memory, and a deep regret.

  “What do you mean she doesn't want to be with you?” said Henry. “Who doesn't want to be with a prince?”

  “That's the thing. She doesn't know I'm a prince.”

  “You've got to be kidding me. How did you manage to keep that from her? Did she do not recognize you from the newspapers? Has she not seen your image shooting around online?”

  “If she has, she hasn't said anything. Although I'm pretty sure the groom is suspecting something. He's been staring at me weirdly all week, asking where he's seen me before.”

  “So are you going to tell her?”

  “I can't, can I?”

  “But if it's love...”

  “Love for me,” I said. “I don't know what this is for her.”

  My heart sank. For years I'd made girls feel like this. They'd fallen in love with me at the drop of a hat, and I'd thrown them away. I'd made so many of them cry, but I never fully appreciated how they would have felt, how much it hurt to love somebody who didn't love you back.

  “I hate to sound so cheesy,” said Henry, “But if you love her, you're going to have to come clean and tell her everything. You might not get another chance. You don't want to go your whole life thinking about the one that got away.”

  “How am I supposed to tell her? As soon as she finds out about me she'll have to see those news articles about Club X. She'll probably think I'm some sex crazed lunatic.”

  Henry laughed.

  “Well that's not a million miles from the truth, is it?”

  “I suppose not.”

  From behind me, I could hear the sound of Christy laughing. I looked over and she gave me a friendly way, meanwhile Josh narrowed his eyes and looked at me suspiciously.

  Did he really know who I was?

  “I'll catch you later,” I said to Henry. “Cheese and wine can't consume itself.”

  “Don't hold back,” he said. “Don't let her get away.”

  Back inside the hotel, I spruced myself up, pulled on a suit and slicked back my hair. Once again I had to admit that I looked pretty devastating.

  “Dapper as always,” said Stephen as he lead me down the stairs.

  “You said it.”

  The room was busy, but the atmosphere was subdued. It was as though the last few days of heavy drinking had really got to the guests, and I saw half of them n
ow sipped ginger ale while nibbling at bits of cheese.

  Lizzie was sat at the back table with Louise. As I walked in the room, her eyes lit up. I waited for her to come running to me, to kiss me hard and throw her arms around me, but she didn't move. Instead, she just sat there and waited. I approached her gingerly as she blushed and moved up so I could sit beside her

  “Look at you two,” said Louise. “Loves young dream. You've no idea what I would do to be as young as you.”

  She was drunk already, and obviously in a hopelessly romantic mood, but not wanting to be a spare wheel, she slipped away in search of more wine.

  “You look incredible,” I said to Lizzie.

  Her tan had been deepening over the last few days, and the sun has been bleaching her hair. She looked as though she was becoming some sort of beach goddess, like a siren who lived her entire life by the sea surfing the days away. Her make-up was minimal so I could see the natural sheen of her complexion. Her yellow sundress fell off her shoulders and I longed to kiss them. But I didn't think she would appreciate the public display of affection.

  “ I can't stop thinking about last night,” I said.

  “Me neither. It was incredible.”

  Her hands were beneath the table exploring my body. With a smirk on her lips she pinched at my inner thigh, perilously close to the sacred spot between my legs. She knew what effect it would have on me, and laughed as I grew hard.

  “What are you doing to me?” I asked

  “Thought we could maybe try out the beach seeing as the garden was so much fun.”

  “Won’t people notice?”

  “What if they did?”

  She squeezed my thigh again, this time moving up to cup my testicles.

  “Wow, you are horny tonight.”

  “Red wine always gets me in the mood,” she said. “It should be illegal around me.”

  “I'll make sure to keep you topped up during the week,” I laughed. “Although I wish it didn't have to come to an end.”

  “Don’t all good things come to an end?”

  “But do they really have to?”

  She shot me a knowing look. I knew what she was thinking, and in that moment all I could think was that I was scared I could lose her. Henry was right. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life thinking about the one that go away.

  Should I really tell her about who I really am? Would she even believe me if I did?

  The more I looked at her the more I came to the realization that I just had to go through it.

  What's the worst that could happen?

  “Lizzy,” I began, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “Is it something sexy?” she asked with a sing song laugh.

  “You might think it is,” I said, pulling back her hair.

  I pressed my lips to her ear and felt the goosebumps rise along her shoulders.

  “You're probably not going to believe this.”

  Her hands were on my sides sneaking their up until they were threatening to reach inside my shirt.

  “You look worried,” she said. “Don't tell me you've got bad news.”

  “It's not bad but...”

  My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. What I was going to say would probably sound ridiculous to her.

  Just get it over with. Just spit it out!

  I opened my mouth to speak, my throat drying up as the words struggled to come out, but just as I started to talk, Louise was back at the table, drunkenly sloshing her wine around her glass.

  “Have you tried the Camembert?” she asked. “Her cheeks stuffed with cheese.”

  “Not yet,” said Lizzie. “I'll be over in a minute.”

  Louise disappeared into the crowd casting her attention to Christy's cousins who were clustered together munching on cubed of cheddar.

  I looked back at Lizzie, but the moment had gone.

  “What was it you were going to tell me?”

  "I was gonna say that..."

  "You look really odd," she said, eyeing me suspiciously. "What's wrong with you? You're not normally so tightly wound. How about you loosen up with more wine?"

  "If you insist."

  We made our way over to the bar where a series of bottles were laid out. I could tell at a glance they weren't the priceless vintage reds I was accustomed to. Nevertheless, I popped a square of manchego into my mouth and chewed on the cocktail stick for a minute thinking about how I was going to choose my words carefully.

  "Bergerac?" asked Lizzie. "Or Bordeaux?"

  "No, D'yceme?"

  "No what?"

  "Nothing. Bergerac is fine."

  She looked mildly annoyed at me, but poured me a glass anyway.

  "You look stressed," she said. "That's unlike you. I always figured you out as quite the unshakable sort."

  I took a sip of my wine and tasted its bitterness.

  "There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time," I said, "But, erm..."

  "You're making me nervous."

  "No, don't be nervous, it's just that-"

  A loud crash sounded from the back of the room followed by a scream. We all turned to see Christy clutching a bloody finger and wailing as a glass lay shattered around her feet.

  "Ow!" she cried. "I've cut myself. Mom!"

  Louise was rushing over, soothing her daughter and drunkenly wrapping a napkin around her finger as though she was five years old.

  "Always the dramatic one," said Lizzie. "I swear Christy should have become an actress."

  We watched as the bar staff gathered around her to clean up the broken glass. Then the next thing we knew, the first aid kit was out, and she was being swathed in antiseptic and band aids.

  "I think I'm going to need stitches," she moaned. "It's agony! What if I bleed out?"

  "Jesus Christ," I laughed. "It's just a cut."

  "She's petrified of blood," said Lizzie. "Hang on, I better go check on her.”

  "Aw, not you as well. She has about ten people around her."

  But Lizzie was already on her way over, joining the group of people who were fawning all over Christy as though she had just lost a leg.

  I meandered back to the table, making a quick stop at the bar to swap the wine for vodka. I needed something stronger if I was really going to say what I wanted.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. A message from Henry flashed up on the screen.

  Good luck, bro. You'll be fine.

  But his words of encouragement just made my stomach clench even tighter. Now he was expecting me to tell her, and he'd probably be waiting for me to relay how it went back to him.

  Glancing back over at the commotion, I saw Christy had finally stopped panicking and was now knocking back another glass of wine while biting into an entire wedge of Brie. Josh, looking exhausted by her, was sat across the table from her with his brother trying his hardest to get wasted.

  Lizzie noticed me looking and came sauntering back over.

  "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to ignore you. It's just that she's really not good with this sort of thing. You know, blood and injuries and all that stuff."

  "You seemed to be pretty good with it all, though. I saw you treat her wound better than anybody else."

  Looking down at her dress, I saw the yellow fabric was now spattered with a few drops of blood.

  "Oh, shit," she said, brushing her fingers over the stain. "It'll never come out."

  "Don't worry about. It'll buy you a new dress."

  "Erm, no thanks. I don't need a guy to buy me clothes," she said, offended. "Besides I am pretty good with all that stuff. When I was a kid my dad always told me I would make a good nurse. I guess hospitals just really got to me, you know. I spent a lot of time in them growing up. I used to have to go up to the ward to see my mom every day after kindergarten. I'd sit and scribble in my coloring books at the end of her bed as I listened to the beeps of the hospital machinery.”

  "Oh,
God. That's awful, Lizzie."

  "No, it's okay. I liked hospitals. You know, some people grow up hating them because they associate them with death, but I never felt that way. I always liked them. Felt safe in them. Even loved the smell of them. And of course there were the nurses, all in their white uniforms looking like angels, dashing down the halls saving lives. It would have been wonderful to grow up to be someone like that."

  Her eyes were glazed over as she talked, but she looked beautiful, pure, too good for me. Here she was, sharing her fantasy of being an angelic lifesaver, and I was about to break the news to her that I was a sex obsessed prince who had been exiled because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants.

  "Sorry, I really go off on a tangent when I drink wine. Didn't mean to bore you."

  "You couldn't bore me if you tried," I said. "Never in a million years."

  She nestled her head into the crook of my neck and looked out at the group still clouded around Christy.

  She was fiddling with something in her hand. I noticed it was the wrapper of a band aid. She was holding it like a memento of the moment she managed to realize her ambition, if only for a few minutes.

  "What was it you meant to tell me?" she asked.

  With her nestled in beside me, the moment was too perfect to ruin. So I just took her hand in mine, kissed the top of her head and said, "Nothing. I forget."

  * * *

  We stood on the edge of the pier, hand in hand watching as the moonlight glittered like diamonds on the still water. She smelled like wine and sea salt.

  Behind us, the rest of the party were spilling out, ready to clamber on board the waiting yacht that was rented for the sole purpose of a moonlit sail out to sea. Except, by the looks of it, some of the guests weren't up to the task of being anywhere near the sea. Josh looked green already.

  "Maybe you should sit this one out," said Lizzie as he dragged Christy up to the boat.

  "Nah, I'm fine," he said, his words slurring all over the place as though they were merely dripping out his mouth. "Just need a good coffee."

  He stepped on board, Christy close behind him, and Louise close behind her. Trailing around everyone else, I could see Adam approach like a dark cloud.

  "A moonlit sail," said Lizzie. "Could you think of anything more romantic?"

 

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