Recklessly Royal

by Nichole Chase

  I could hear voices through the door and my smile grew. Yanking open the double doors, I threw myself at my cousin, Daniel, my face breaking into a smile. Laughing, he spun me in a circle.

  “Cathy!” He kissed my cheek before setting me back on the ground. We’d become very close over the last couple of years.

  “Why don’t you twirl with me like that?” Chadwick, Sam’s loyal assistant, asked. They’d been openly dating for a year now, and I loved seeing them both so happy.

  “Because you don’t have all that blond hair to spin around.” Daniel made a tsking noise. “You keep cutting it too short.”

  “Not to mention it’s red.” Chadwick rolled his eyes. “And I look like a Muppet if I don’t cut it.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

  “You look great.” I led them back into the house. “And dapper as always. I’m loving the tie.” I flicked the pink plaid silk with my fingers. Chadwick was my favorite shopping buddy.

  “I thought you were with the guys!” Sam stood up and hugged Daniel before glaring at Chadwick. “You lied!”

  “I most certainly didn’t.” Chadwick rolled his eyes. “We were there and now we’re here.”

  “Yes. Too much testosterone.” Daniel laughed.

  “Cathy asked us to come to this first, but there was no way I was going to be here while Sam got waxed.” Chadwick shuddered. “Did she hurt anyone?”

  “She was very well behaved.” I winked at him.

  “Oh my. So you were serious about the pole dancing?” Daniel walked around one of the poles, a hand on his chin. “This could be interesting.”

  “Very serious. Now go change!” The doorbell rang again. “Got it.”

  The guest list wasn’t very long, but I’d made sure the important people would be there. Sam’s surrogate mother, Patricia, arrived with Lady Adriane and Heather, the Duchess of Marion. It might seem weird to invite Adriane, one of my brother’s exes, but she and Samantha got along well.

  Opening the door, I threw my head back and laughed. All three of them were wearing feathered boas in bright colors.

  “We brought one for everybody!” Patricia held up a bag.

  “You have no idea just how perfect that is.” I hugged them each before leading them back to the room. I pulled a bright pink boa out of the bag and wrapped it around my shoulders. Our instructor had turned up the music and was doing hip gyrations near one of the poles. He totally did look like Gene Simmons, minus the creepy face paint.

  “Oh my.” Patricia put a hand up to her heart.

  “Oh my doesn’t cover it.” Heather cocked her head to the side. “I think I’ve been married for too long. I don’t remember ever seeing a man move like that.”

  “You didn’t go to the right places.” Adriane wiggled her eyebrows before heading for the center of the room and stretching. I’d told everyone to bring workout clothes so there wouldn’t be any wardrobe crisis, and it seemed that constant nagging and list making was paying off. Everyone had brought what they needed for the night.

  “Let’s get ready to shake this house!” The instructor clapped his hands together, his French accent making it hard to understand him. “Loosen up! Get your blood pumping!”

  “What did he say we’re going to do to my house?” Samantha leaned toward me.

  “Just move!” The music filled the room, making the windows shake. I’d forgotten how much I loved to dance. It didn’t take long before I was letting go of Princess Catherine and dancing like Cathy—and it felt good. Free and fun. I bumped butts with Patricia, wrapped a boa around Chadwick, and laughed as Daniel did the YMCA.

  I downed another glass of champagne while joking with Jess about the wedding and the new moves we were learning. Tonight was my one chance to relax and have a good time, so I wasn’t going to play it safe. There were no reporters or photographers to catch me in a bad light. It was liberating. I could already feel a nice buzz from the alcohol and was enjoying myself more than I had in years. Good friends and fun would do that for a person.

  Samantha was watching Patricia wiggle and shake while trying not to laugh, and almost knocked over the table with the snacks and drinks. I saved the bottle of champagne while Jess grabbed the tray of cheese. Deciding it would be better to consume the alcohol than risk it being wasted on the floor, I poured the rest of the bottle into my glass before going back to the dance floor.

  Once we were all loosened up, the instructor started teaching us simple swings on the pole. He made sure we put our hands in the right place and were ready to hold our weight. He adjusted my leg before rushing off to help at the pole next to mine. Giggles fought to escape my mouth as I watched Chadwick and Daniel try to push Patricia up the pole. Chadwick’s normally perfectly coifed hair was mussed as he tried to coach her into wrapping her legs around the metal shaft. Daniel was making obscene faces while he propped her up with his back.

  “I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” Her voice was high as she gripped the pole tightly. “Stop trying to bend me in unnatural ways!”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I watched the three of them crash back to the ground. Hurrying to their sides, I helped untangle their limbs before helping them off the ground. Patricia was red-cheeked, and Daniel, who had borne the brunt of her weight, made a beeline for the drinks.

  “Well, that was the first time I’ve been under a woman.” He took a large gulp of his drink before turning to whisper loudly to Samantha, “And I think it will be the last time too.”

  Patricia decided to watch the rest of the class while shouting jokes, but the instructor didn’t let the rest of us escape. He wasn’t a difficult teacher, but he did try to teach us some of the moves instead of letting us just swing around on the pole. I gripped the cold metal firmly in my hands and lifted myself from the ground before leaning backward and letting go so that only my legs were holding my weight.

  Sam whistled and I gave her a thumbs-up that was actually a thumbs-down because of the way I was hanging. The thought made me laugh and my grip on the pole loosened, letting me slide down closer to the floor.

  “Don’t distract me! I’m upside down.” I giggled.

  “You’re also drunk.” Sam tilted a little, unsteady on her feet.

  “You’re just jealous that I can pole dance.” I stuck my tongue out at her, which made her laugh.

  I was a bit sloshed, but I wasn’t going to tell Sam that. My legs slipped and I slid the rest of the way to the ground, my head stopping my fall. Maybe I was drunker than I thought. The doorbell rang as I scrambled up from my spot on the floor.

  “I’ve got it!” Chadwick took off to the front door, his steps a little too loud.

  Backing away from the pole, I took a running jump and grabbed directly in the middle. I used my momentum to swing my legs high in the air. Making sure I had a good grip on the pole, I spread my legs into a split.

  “Wow.” A deep voice broke into my thoughts and I looked up. A man was standing next to Chadwick, wearing a backpack and carrying a large duffel bag. His dark eyes ran over my body and I shivered, which was a bad thing. My hands slipped and I fell, crashing to the floor with a loud oof.

  “Are you okay?” Sam ran over and helped me stand up, but I wasn’t feeling any pain. In fact, I was feeling awesome. Looking past Sam’s shoulder, I smiled at the hottie and waved. He was perfection, from his messy dark hair down to his scuffed boots. And exactly what we needed to end the night with a bang.

  “Heeey yooou. I don’t remember hiring a stripper, but boy am I glad you showed up.” I let Sam help me up to my feet and wondered why she was making a choking sound. I slapped her on the back, worried. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Fine!” Sam barked a laugh. “That’s not—”

  “Good! Because it looks like I outdid myself!” I turned her around with a flourish to look at the delicious man standing on the stairs. His shirt strained across his chest as he shifted his feet and I found myself thinking about tracing my fingers across those ha
rd lines. I let my eyes run over him instead, taking in the tight plaid shirt, worn jeans, and work boots. There was nothing polished or metropolitan about him. Everything screamed outdoors. And I liked it.

  “Cathy,” Sam tried to stop me, but I shrugged her off and skipped up the steps.

  “What are you supposed to be? A lost lumberjack?” I pulled the heavy bag out of his hands and set it on the ground. “We’ll, c’mon! Someone start some music.” I gyrated my hips a little and wiggled my eyebrows. “Take it off, bab-ay!”

  “If you insist, gorgeous.” His American accent gave me pause as a dim memory tried to fight through the fog in my brain, but it didn’t last long. His eyes stayed locked on mine as his calloused fingers worked the top couple of his buttons free. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or just his deep brown eyes, but I was entranced. I didn’t even notice when Sam climbed the stairs.

  I couldn’t look away from him as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and exposed the skin underneath. The need to touch that tantalizing bit of flesh raced through me, and my fingers twitched. Hypnotized by the color of melted chocolate, I leaned forward. One corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and it only added to his charm. Where it might have been a turn- off in another man, it simply added to this stripper’s appeal. I smiled in response, eager for him to continue.

  “God, please don’t, David. I’ll never be able to look at you again.” She covered his hands with her own and laughed, her cheeks a bright red.

  “David?” I looked at him, confused, before looking over my shoulder at Jess. She was nodding her head with wide eyes like I was supposed to remember something. “David?” I said the name again, mulling over what that could mean.

  I looked down at the bag I had taken from him and my eyes landed on his boots. It was then that a moment of clarity surged through my mind like a stampede of wild horses and I covered my mouth.

  “Oh God.” A wave of nausea hit me. “You’re Sam’s friend.”

  I promptly turned around and threw up into a potted plant.

  THREE

  SUNLIGHT STREAMED IN through a crack in the curtains, tracing a fiery path of pain directly across my face.

  “Ow.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Ow, ow, ow.”

  I threw my arm over my eyes and willed myself to die. Never had I ever been so hungover in my life. If it wasn’t for my dire need to use the bathroom I wouldn’t have moved ever again, but my bladder was not going to let that happen. Rolling over with a groan, I cracked one eye open.

  On the table next to the bed was a bottle of water and two small white pills. It was like the Alcohol Gods knew exactly what I needed; or more likely, Chadwick had planned ahead. I picked up the pills and made out the aspirin brand name before tossing them back and drinking the water. With a shaky breath I swung my legs onto the floor and shuffled to the bathroom.

  Without thinking, I turned on the light and whimpered. Flailing around blindly, I hit the switch and leaned against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Turning so I could press my cheek against the cold surface, I sighed. Why did I drink so much last night? When did I drink enough to make me feel this bad? Sliding across the floor slowly, I made my way to the sink and splashed water on my face. I remembered the bottle of champagne and a couple of drinks. What else had I done?

  Looking up into the mirror I traced the puffy circles and shadows under my eyes. Running my fingers up to the top of my head I gingerly probed the knot under my hair. When had that happened? Had someone hit me with a wine bottle at some point? That’s what it felt like, but I doubt that had happened.

  Opening the medicine cabinet I got out my toothbrush and toothpaste I had stashed there the other day and tried to remember what had happened the night before. I remembered feather boas, Gene Simmons, and Sam knocking a table over. As I tried to get rid of the awful taste in my mouth, the image of a man filled my mind. A stripper? I spit the toothpaste out and felt my brow furrow. He was certainly hot enough to be a stripper, but I hadn’t hired anyone to take their clothes off. The press would have a field day if that story got out. So why did I remember a really sexy man standing in Sam’s living room?

  I dragged my sorry tail back into the guest room and rummaged around in my overnight bag. I refused to turn on the light. My head was pounding and even the memory of the sun made me want to cry. Pulling out a pair of jeans, I slid them on and found a shirt. My head hurt too bad to pull my hair out of my face so instead I left it down.

  Grabbing a pair of sunglasses out of my purse, I slid them on and gave myself a pep talk. I had too much to do for the wedding to hide in bed all day. Though it sounded like a really good idea.

  I didn’t hear anyone else moving about in the family wing as I made my way downstairs, so I hoped that everyone was still asleep. I needed more water and was not ready to talk to anyone. There was a knocked-over plant on the landing of the stairs and I knelt down to scoop up the dirt.

  “Want some help?” The deep voice startled me so much that I stumbled off the step I was perched on and my sunglasses fell off my face. I looked up into the dark brown eyes that had haunted my thoughts this morning and gasped. My headache was forgotten as I stood there staring at him. He was leaning against the kitchen doorway, a coffee cup in one hand and a broom handle and dustpan in the other. “It took forever to find a broom in this place.”

  “I thought you were a dream.” I instantly regretted the words.

  “You dreamed about me?” His mouth pulled up into a delicious smirk.

  “Um, no.” I brushed some of the hair out of my face and searched for words. “No. I, um. I don’t remember much about last night. It’s a bit hazy. And I certainly didn’t dream about you.”

  “Well that’s a shame.” He winked at me. Setting his cup down on a small table, he handed me the broom and knelt down with the dustpan. “So you don’t remember asking me to take my clothes off?”

  I stared down into his handsome face while my mouth gaped like a fish. Oh my good God. No wonder I had thought he was a stripper. I had asked him to take his clothes off. If I had been alone I would have beat my head against the wall. An image of Sam stopping his hands fluttered through my mind and my cheeks heated. I really had told him to take his clothes off.

  Wrinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes and he chuckled. “I’d say forget about it, but it appears you already have.”

  “I—I think it’s coming back to me now.” I swept the dirt into the dustpan and chewed on my lip. “I’m really sorry. I don’t usually drink that much. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever drunk that much before. Ever. And never will again.”

  He poured the dirt back into the pot. When he stood my eyes lined up with the collar of his shirt, and I tried to not notice the way the material strained across his chest. My gaze trailed upward, over his scruffy jaw, nose, and sharp cheekbones to meet his warm stare.

  “David Rhodes.” He held his hand out to me, his eyes running over my face.

  “Yeah, I remember that now.” I wrapped my fingers around his. “I’m Cathy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Cathy.” His fingers squeezed mine and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Again.”

  “I’ll never live last night down, will I?” I laughed.

  “Not if I can help it.” His fingers tightened on mine briefly before he let go. “It’s not often that a princess orders me to take my clothes off.” His voice took on a distant tone.

  “I’m just Cathy here.” I frowned. I hated being reminded of my title. As if I ever forgot. And the way he had said it—almost like he found the idea distasteful.

  “Here?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “At Sam’s place.” I shrugged. “Here I don’t have to be Princess Catherine.” Why was I explaining myself to him?

  “Because she’s American? Or not really royalty?” There was no mistaking the defensive tone.

  “Because she’s Sam.” I narrowed my eyes. My headache was starting to make its presence known once again. “Titles have nothing to do
with it.”

  “Okay.” David nodded his head as if I had answered correctly.

  “Are you testing me?” I frowned. “Because I have a killer hangover and am not really in the mood.”

  “I just wanted to make sure you really liked Sam. She talks about you a lot.” He shrugged.

  “I love Sam.” Insulted, I took a step away from him. “She doesn’t need you to show up right before her wedding and start taking a poll. She’s quite able to take care of herself and really good at keeping assholes in check.”

  “Looks like she may have taught you a thing or two.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry that you’re an asshole or for insinuating that I would use Sam?” I felt my upper lip twitch.

  “Right now, both.” He shrugged. “Sam’s like my little sister. I just wanted to make sure she really was happy over here. It’s really different from back in Minnesota.”

  “I’m busting my hump to make sure her wedding goes off without a hitch and that she’s not bothered by any of the stressful bits.” Crossing my arms over my chest I glared at him. “Everyone wants Sam to be happy.”

  Leaning over, he picked up my sunglasses and offered them to me. “I’m sorry. Truce?”

  I took the glasses from him. “Then I hope there is more coffee where you got that.” I pointed at his cup. “Because I’m going to need it.”

  “It so happens that there is a pot full, minus one cup, in the kitchen.” He walked over and opened the door he had come through.

  The smell of the coffee did not make my stomach turn, which I took as a good sign. Walking to the cabinets I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup. The stool at the island scraped along the floor as David took a seat. I could feel his eyes on me as I whipped up some foam and made a small bull’s-eye on top. I wasn’t an artist like my brothers, but I could give a good barista a run for her money. Goose bumps erupted along my arms and I berated myself for caring. Distractions weren’t welcome right now, nor were attractive men and their preconceived judgments.