by Avery Wilde
And so very sexy.
“So what do you plan on doing with your degree?” Drew asked. We’d been discussing the fact that I’d just graduated from college.
“I’d love to have my own gallery one day, but I’m also really interested in art restoration.”
“Fixing up old pieces?”
“Exactly. It’s delicate work, but the results are worth it. You should see this Caravaggio someone managed to restore last year after it was found in an old wine cellar in Italy,” I said animatedly. I loved talking about the things I’d studied and learned during my time at college, and I pulled out my phone so I could Google the aforementioned Caravaggio.
Drew nodded as I showed it to him. “Ah, yes, I think I’ve actually seen that in person,” he said. “I like how realistic the facial expressions are.”
“Yeah, they’re amazing,” I said with a nod. “But wait…how have you seen it in person? As far as I know, it was acquired by the British royal family immediately after its restoration, and it hasn’t been put in any museums.”
Drew hesitated for a second, scratching his chin. “Er…they must have it on display somewhere in the Wellington Castle public walkthrough section that’s open to tourists. I took a friend there a while ago when he was visiting London.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“You know, I’m not personally a huge art buff myself, but I do understand its importance, and it’s really great how passionate you are about it,” he said. “People these days are force-fed this mantra that art is worthless and the only careers worth pursuing are engineering and science. Those things are all well and good, but without creative people in the world, how bleak would the world actually look? We wouldn’t have nice things to look at, and there’d be no entertainment. No books, no movies, no music. It would be utterly boring.”
“Exactly! I’ve tried to explain that to so many people who’ve told me I wasted my time getting an arts degree,” I replied with a wide-eyed smile.
We’d only just met tonight, but Drew really seemed to ‘get’ me. He was the first person who’d been able to see my point of view on creative subjects without me having to defend it first, and that made me feel like I was sitting with an old friend; a real kindred spirit.
“So tell me more about your favorite paintings,” Drew said, leaning forward.
We chatted for what felt like hours, the banter between us getting steadily more sexually charged with the occasional ‘accidental’ meeting of hands across the table or legs below it, and Drew suddenly looked straight across the table, locking me with those devastating eyes and speaking without any semblance of pretense.
“My hotel is just round the corner.”
“Oh. Is it?”
There was no question of what he meant, and just the thought of it sent hot, urgent messages buzzing along every nerve in my body, and right now every single one seemed hardwired to my loins. I wanted him—no question. And yet I held myself in check; this wasn’t me, I didn’t do this, I’d never done this. Well… I’d done ‘that’, but only ever with boyfriends. The one night stand was uncharted territory for me, and I wasn’t sure it was territory that I wanted to explore. But even as I thought that, I knew that if I was going to explore it, then boy…was this the man to go exploring with!
“I know the classic line,” Drew went on, honest and upfront as ever. “I’m supposed to say ‘I never do this, but you’re just so beautiful’. Well, you are just so beautiful, but we both know that saying ‘I never do this’ would be a lie. I do this a lot. Which is why I am so very good at it…if you catch my drift.”
His voice seemed to drop an octave on the word ‘very’, a bass note that I could swear I felt vibrating in my libido.
What the hell? I was a little tipsy but not so drunk as to not know what I wanted, and I wanted Drew. I barely knew the guy, but I wanted him right here and now on the table in the bar. Obviously we couldn’t do that, but his hotel room would do. In the end, if you were going to throw away a lifetime of carefully protected principles, then do it with the best, right?
I hesitated for a moment longer, taking a deep breath, and then I looked into his eyes. “Let’s go.”
Drew grinned. “I’m glad you said that. I wasn’t sure.”
“I’d have thought you always get what you want.”
Drew shrugged. “I do. Women don’t say no to me. But you’re different to the girls I usually go for.”
I shook my head; for the first time I’d caught him in a ‘line’. “I bet you’ve said that to every girl you’ve been with.”
“Oh, definitely.” Drew nodded. “Everyone likes to hear it. But with you it’s actually true.”
And while I’d never been the most confident girl, I believed him. He made it impossible not to.
I sent off a quick text to Sarah so she’d know where I was going, and then we picked up our coats and headed for the door. I felt unsteady with every step I took, not because of the drinks I’d had, but because of my excitement—I was actually doing this! Something I’d never done before, something I’d always sworn I would never do, something that had always been anathema to me…and yet I felt no anxiety at all. This felt exciting. It felt right.
Outside there was a queue of people waiting to get into the busy bar, past the hulking bouncer who stood by the door. From the looks of them, many would be relying on how good their fake IDs were to get in, and many would be disappointed. It was from a gaggle of girls who fell into that optimistic category that the whispers started, swiftly becoming louder before turning into shrill adolescent squeals, accompanied by frenzied pointing at…Drew.
What the hell?
I looked at him in confusion, and for the first time this evening, Drew looked uncomfortable.
“What’s all that about?” he asked with an unconvincing laugh.
He took my arm and tried to walk me on more briskly but the excitement was now spreading down the line, leaping from one group of girls to the next with a single phrase standing out amongst the girlish chatter—a single phrase that immediately caught my attention.
“Oh my god, I think that’s Prince Andrew!”
Whether hissed in surreptitious excitement or squealed in high-pitched ecstasy, that phrase now dominated the queue. They all turned to look at Drew to confirm what rumor had told them, and I joined them, looking at the man I’d been planning to spend the night with. God, how could I have been so blind? How could I not have recognized one of the most famous, and to a degree notorious, men on the planet?
Because, of course, I hadn’t expected to bump into the heir to the British throne in a New York bar. I had recognized him to some degree, and yet my brain had refused the conclusion because it simply couldn’t be him. But now I looked, and now that it had been confirmed by two dozen gawking witnesses…now I could see. I’d spent the evening drinking with Andrew Arlington, the Prince of Wales and heir apparent to the most celebrated royal family in the world.
And I’d almost taken him home!
There seemed a half breath of stillness as the assembled women took in the fact that the world’s most eligible bachelor, most desirable man and most infamous playboy was only a few feet away from them. As the reality crashed in upon them, one woman abandoned the queue and charged.
“Andreeeeew! Oh my god, I love you!”
It was a cry that pierced the air of the still New York night, and from nowhere, large men in suits descended to stand between their prince and the hordes of his adoring groupies. I’d actually seen those men in the bar earlier, and I’d fleetingly wondered why they kept looking my way, but I’d been so caught up with Drew that I hadn’t questioned it. But now…
I looked at the man who’d introduced himself to me as Drew Ellis. “Is it true? Are you him?” I asked with wide eyes.
“Well…I’d rather not discuss it here,” he replied. “But yes, I am.”
My heart sank. I couldn’t stand liars. I’d been lied to by people in the worst ways in the pa
st—my own family members, no less—and it wasn’t something I could put up with again, even from a guy I’d just met. Even from a prince I’d just met.
“I don’t believe it,” I muttered. “You lied. You…”
I couldn’t even begin to piece the rest of my thoughts into words, and my voice trailed off into the cold night air. Then I did the only thing I could think of in that exact moment.
I turned and ran.
“Keira! Wait!”
I heard the shout above the cries of the girls but I didn’t stop, didn’t look back, and certainly heard no running feet coming after me, which was all for the best. Now the reality of the situation was upon me, I felt stupid, I felt humiliated and I felt a little angry. He’d lied to me, and I’d fallen for every single bit of bullshit he’d fed me! And he’d done it just so he could have sex with me and never see me again. If he’d ever intended for me to know who he was, then he wouldn’t have given me a fake name, and he’d taken advantage of the fact that I hadn’t recognized him so that he’d never have to reveal his true identity to me.
Then again, I suppose that was the nature of the one night stand: anonymous and meaningless. And although I’d thought only minutes before that that was what I wanted, I now knew that such a desire was not within me at all. Not even a bit. Sex and meaningless were two words which I couldn’t put together, and I had no idea why it had seemed like such an amazing, exciting idea five minutes ago.
Although tonight had ended prematurely, I still felt used, and my resistance to the one night stand was renewed a hundredfold, even if the man was as sexy as ‘Drew Ellis’.
Never again.
***
“Prince Andrew?” Sarah’s jaw hung open in disbelief.
I nodded.
“Prince Andrew was in that bar?”
“Yup. Dressed quite casually, which was why no one seemed to notice at first. But it was him.”
“And I missed him?” Sarah punched the arm of the chair in which she was sitting. “Dammit!”
“I think you’re missing the point of the story.”
We were sitting in the apartment we shared (though not for much longer), both holding a coffee as we discussed the events of the night before.
“I can’t believe you had a chance to sleep with him, and you ditched him instead,” she said.
I shrugged, still feeling the sting of last night’s events. “I couldn’t go through with it. He actually made me feel like I was special, like maybe there’d be more than just one night between us, but he didn’t even tell me his friggin’ real name. I guess I’m not upper class enough for a guy like him to ever think about seeing again. The whole thing just made me feel like crap.”
“Keira, of course he made you feel all warm and fuzzy and special. He wanted to get laid. That’s what one night stands are about. It’s not about dating or meaning something to the other person, or having any kind of future with them.”
I sighed, knowing how incredibly naïve I sounded. “I know. I guess it’s just really not for me.”
Her face softened. “Sorry if I pushed you into it. I really thought you’d have fun.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, shaking my head. “It was my decision, and besides, I didn’t go through with it anyway.”
“I still feel bad. And Prince Andrew is such a player…I feel like if you’d met a less ‘playboy’ kinda guy, then you might’ve actually had fun with it.”
“Maybe. I doubt it, though. I think the Playboy Prince might’ve put me off trying to have fun with any guys for quite some time.”
“Don’t let it bother you that much. He might be a royal family member, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t also a royal jerk who isn’t worth thinking about. Most one night stand kinda guys are. That’s why you love ‘em and leave ‘em,” she said. “Besides, this’ll make a cool story for your future grandkids—how you rejected a royal and left him high and dry out on the street.”
I giggled. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“Anyway, there’s a chance that he might be your boss soon, right?” Sarah said. “Awkward…”
“He’d be my boss’s son,” I said. “But how much time do you think he spends amongst the servants?”
Sarah nodded. “Probably not much. So you’re really still going to England?”
“Yep. I haven’t heard back from the Palace regarding the second round of applications yet, but that’ll take a couple more weeks, and it will give me time to do some sightseeing in London. And if I don’t get that particular job, there’s always others. Why?”
“I was hoping you’d change your mind. I’m gonna miss you.”
I smiled; the feeling was mutual. “You won’t even notice I’m gone. You’ve always got other stuff to do.”
As if to prove the point, a strikingly handsome man clad in only a pair of shorts wandered into the lounge, nodding a good morning to us before entering the bathroom and closing the door.
“Does he have a name?” I asked with a grin.
Sarah shrugged. “No idea. So when do you leave for England?”
“First thing in the morning on Monday.”
“We’ll have lunch at Clancy’s before then. One more time to say goodbye.”
“I’d like that,” I said, still smiling.
Sarah stood up. “Okay. I’m gonna take a shower.”
“But your guy’s still in the bathroom.”
She looked at me with an expression of puzzlement. “In many ways, you and I are very different people.”
She winked and continued on to the bathroom, and I grinned and retreated to my bedroom to start the packing process. I was going to be in the UK for a long time, so I needed to take as much stuff as I could cram into my suitcases, and as I surveyed the contents of my top bedside table drawer a moment later, my eyes lingered on an unopened box of condoms that Sarah had bought for me a few months ago in a previous hint at me needing to ‘get good and laid’.
I pushed them to the back of the drawer, not even considering taking them with me for a second. If the opportunity arose, then condoms were readily available in England, and I doubted the opportunity would arise anyway. I was going there to work and check out all the amazing art, not to pick up men, and besides, after last night’s failed hookup attempt, I was quite sure I wouldn’t be deciding to pick up any other random men in bars for a long time. My love life could damn well wait till after my gap year was up.
I sighed as Drew’s face inadvertently popped into my head again, and I wondered if I’d see much of him at Richmond Palace if I ended up getting the maid job there. Hopefully not. The palace had over seven hundred rooms and four hundred staff members, so the chances of me running into him were slim. On top of that, members of the royal family were always going off on overseas trips, or spending their time at other royal residences, so I’d probably never even encounter Drew at all.
At least that’s what I was praying for…
Chapter 2
Andrew
“Another drink, your Highness?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said, smiling up at the pretty stewardess. She blushed and returned my smile as she topped up my glass.
During a schooling that had taken me to the best educational establishments that Europe had to offer, politeness had seldom, if ever, been emphasized. And politeness to the ‘help’ had been somewhat frowned upon—given your station in life, people would always be doing stuff for you, and if you say thank you to all of them then you’ll be saying it all the time. I’d always been grateful, therefore, that my mother—better known to the world as Queen Constance—had been scrupulous in teaching me manners. The Queen always said her ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ and ensured that her children did the same.
The stewardess kept smiling as she finished topping up my glass. She really was extraordinarily pretty, with vivacious blue eyes, a delightful smile, and an ass that had made the long flight a much more pleasant experience for me as I watched it wiggle up and down the plane. I was
a member of the mile-high club with frequent flyer miles, and in the ordinary scheme of things I would have been working my magic on the gorgeous stewardess (Kathy—I’d taken the time to ask her name). I was relatively sure she’d been flirting with me, as women tended to do, and it was a private plane, so by the end of the flight we would’ve both been thoroughly satisfied.
But I hadn’t even tried, which was damn well surprising. What was more surprising was that I hadn’t even wanted to. That was almost inexplicable—I always wanted to; a fact to which previous stewardesses could attest. Was it something about Kathy? I watched her slink away again. No, definitely not something about Kathy. I found her attractive, sexy and powerfully desirable, but I just didn’t desire her right now.
Not even a little bit.
Earlier in the flight I’d fallen asleep for a while and dreamed of a girl. That wasn’t so unusual; given the number of girls there were and had been in my life, it was inevitable that some of them would creep into my dreams, and my subconscious could sometimes get pleasantly creative in putting them together. But this wasn’t any old girl. This dream had been about one particular girl, and it was a girl I hadn’t even ‘been’ with—one I’d enjoyed a drink with in a New York bar when I’d tried to go incognito for the night and have some regular fun that didn’t involve stuffy royal duties and so-called elite members of society.
Keira. That was her name.
I was used to having girls drop their panties for me in a heartbeat, and I’d have had hers in my pocket that night if I hadn’t been such an ass and let her go. I’d been watching her from the second I stepped into that bar, unable to believe that such a gorgeous minx was so close to me. I ran into a myriad of hot girls in my day-to-day life, and believe me, they wanted me just as much as I wanted them. Usually more. But none of them were in the same league as this girl. She was incredible. Her caramel skin glowed, her dark wavy hair cascaded down her back like a shimmering waterfall, her brown eyes were warm and intelligent, and she had the sexiest body I’d ever seen. Even under the conservative dress she wore, there was no mistaking the perfect curves underneath. She was a goddess, whether she knew it or not, and I couldn’t even remember the last time a woman had grabbed my attention like this.
