Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  “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 st
arving 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.

  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 her 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.

  “Hiking? That's awesome. I love hiking as well.”

  Finally, the conversation seemed to be flowing smoothly as she told me where her favorite hiking spots were and how often she got to do it. As we talked, I found that we had a lot more in common that what I had previously thought.

  She told me more about her family, and I told her about how my father had passed when I was a child. I found myself opening up to her like I never had with anyone else, not even Edward or Maggie.

  Eliza made it easy to just be myself. It didn't feel like she expected me to act a certain way or speak a certain way. No, on the contrary, she wanted me to just be Drew. Just plain ol’ Drew Harrington; and I loved it. It was refreshing to be with someone who I could trust to not be after my money or just trying to get to my mum. I knew that Eliza was different. She wasn't what I called a hanger-on.

  “Hey, would you like to order something to eat?” she asked.

  At that point, I was willing to do anything if it meant I got to stay a while longer. I was enjoying our time together, and I didn't want it to end.

  “That sounds great,” I said, even though I wasn't hungry.

  “What will it be?” she asked as she stood and walked to the desk on the other side of the room.

  I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she bent over to retrieve what appeared to be menus from a drawer. Her bottom looked so good in her yoga pants, and I felt myself wanting to smack it lightly. It was round but not huge; just perfect enough to grab onto and hold tight.

  She raised up so quickly that her breasts bounced a couple of times, causing my dick to begin to rise again. What the hell did this girl have that made me hard so quickly?

  “Okay, we can order either Thai food or pizza. I'm afraid everything else is closed,” she said as she sat next to me.

  She was closer than before, our legs and arms brushing ever so slightly. I could smell her sweet perfume, and my cock was getting harder by the second.

  God, what was she doing to me?

  I had always heard that guys peak sexually around eighteen years of age, and I believed it. It seemed since I'd entered high school all I wanted to do was to fuck. Here was this gorgeous woman in front of me with tits that would drive a blind man wild and an ass that made me almost cream my pants at the mere sight of it.

  Damn, this girl had the entire package. Body, brains, and beauty. I had to have her, and I promised myself that night that she would be mine eventually.

  Eliza and I ended up talking for several hours after the pizza was eaten. I felt at ease with her and it was the most amazing feeling that I'd ever felt with a girl. I didn't want the night to end, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't either.

  “Well, I guess I have to be going.”

  “Oh my goodness, I had no idea that it had gotten so late,” she said as she looked at the clock.

  “Me either,” I reiterated when I saw that it was almost four in the morning.

  “I really hate for you to leave in the middle of the night. I mean, it could be dangerous driving back when you're sleepy,” she said.

  Damn, let that mean what I thought I was hearing. She wanted me to stay?

  “I guess it could be,” I said, wanting to just do away with the games and tell her that I was staying the night with her. But I wouldn't do that. I wanted an invitation.

  She glanced around the flat. “Why don't you just stay here? I mean, you can get a few hours’ sleep then go home before class.

  My heart was racing, and I felt as if I would explode with happiness. I had to act cool and collected. “Okay, if you're sure you don't mind,” I added for effect.

  She smiled her sexy smile. “Of course, I don't. I wouldn't have asked if I did.”

  She moved toward the hall and what I expected to be her bedroom. “Come on, I'll get you fixed up.”

  My dick started to rise up again. Was it possible that she was going to go to bed with me? No way, she wasn't like that. I had to remind myself that this girl was different.

  “Come on, silly,” she called out from the other room.

  I had no choice but to follow her, so I did.

  Her room was beautifully decorated with white walls and white lace curtains. There were pink flowers everywhere—on the duvet, the pillows, hell, even the chair had pink flowers on it as well. But somehow it all made sense and fit her personality. Her room smelled of her, sweet and sensual. Was I going to be in that bed with her tonight? I doubted it, but I could fantasize about it.

  “Okay,” she said as she opened her closet. “Here is a blanket and a pillow for you. Just toss it across the couch and lie down. I know it's small, but it's really comfy.”

  Shit! Way to dash my hopes of getting laid tonight.

  My face must have given away what I was thinking because she asked me the most embarrassing question.

  “What? Surely you didn't think you were going to sleep in here with me? Did you
?”

  I smiled. “Of course not, Eliza. We’ve only just met and are friends. I would never think such a thing,” I said, trying to cover my disappointment.

  She smiled. “Good, now come on, and I'll help you get this on the couch.”

  She led the way, and I followed, never taking my eyes off her ass. I put my hand on my crotch to try to push down the general so that she wouldn't see my erection. It was no use, the only thing that was going to take care of that was to either fuck her, jack it off myself, or let it go away on its own after she was out of my sight. Since the first two weren't even remote possibilities, I'd have to deal with blue balls for a while longer.

  Eliza fixed the blanket and pillow and then turned off the overhead light. All that remained was the light that was coming from her bedroom down the hall. Shit! She looked hotter than ever, and my cock was dying to get to her.

  The expression on my face must have given it away because she looked at me in a weird way.

  “Is something wrong? Is this okay for you?” she asked.

  “Oh yeah, this is fine. I'm just tired I guess,” I said, hoping she hadn't noticed that my Johnson was trying to escape my pants in pursuit of her pussy.

  She smiled. “Okay, good night,” she said softly.

  My heart skipped a beat. “Good night.”

  She started to walk away but then turned back to me. “Andrew?” I heard her sweet voice say.

  “Yes?”

  “I'm glad you came over tonight. I really enjoyed talking with you and just being with you. You're not at all what I expected, and I'm so glad that Haddish paired us up.”

  I was elated to hear that she really did like having me as a partner. “I'm glad he did too. Thank you, by the way,” I added.

  “For what?”

  “For treating me like I am a regular person. You don't know how it feels to wonder if others only want to be close to you because of who you are or what you own. It's horrible always being suspicious of everyone and not trusting anyone. But I feel that I can trust you, Eliza.”