His Royal Majesty : A Royal Wedding Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  Hopefully.

  But not likely.

  She sighed. She imagined looking at the top floor and making eye contact with Travis from all this distance away. She imagined keeping his gaze until she walked into his office and then having a real conversation. A real connection.

  And then…

  She checked her watch. She only had a few minutes left on her lunch break, so before she could let her thoughts run too wild, Ivy stood up and headed back to finish out the last couple hours of the Friday—her Tuesday—shift.

  When she walked in at 2 p.m., Shelly came rushing to her excitedly. She looked like a teenager who had just learned that her parents had let her get a puppy.

  “You have a delivery. It looks expensive!”

  Shelly tugged Ivy in the direction of the kitchen at the back, barely unable to contain her glee. Ivy just wondered what kind of prank Shelly had planned, but since she hadn’t actually resumed her shift yet, even as their manager gave them stares from the other end of the cafe. Ivy followed Shelly into the kitchen, confusion rising because she wasn’t expecting any deliveries. She also felt pretty sure as she saw Shelly’s glee that she wasn’t pulling some malicious prank.

  “Look!” Shelly said.

  Ivy’s brows crossed when she saw a large square box made of papier-mache and tied with a luxurious red satin bow. Suffice to say, this was not the type of box that held coffee shop material.

  “Are you sure it’s for me?” Ivy said, delicately touching the box. “I didn’t order anything like this. I couldn’t afford to.”

  “A note came with it, addressed to you,” Shelly replied, pointing to a card that dangled from a cord from the box.

  Ivy gulped and looked at the writing on the envelope, which was beautifully written in cursive and had her full name. She opened it and pulled the note out and turned her back to Shelly to read it in private. As she read, her eyes went wide and her body began to tremble.

  * * *

  I’ll send a car to pick you up at nine tonight. Don’t ask me how I know your home address. Come have dinner with me. The dress is a little gift as an apology for my behavior yesterday. I’d like to see you in it.

  -TD

  * * *

  Ivy gulped. Travis Dunn. I guess I am… I am going to see him again.

  With her hands quivering, she undid the ribbon and opened the box to peer in. A silk dress, the color of wine, lay delicately placed in the midst of pink tissue paper. Before Ivy could hide it, Shelly had already seen it and she squealed. Ivy blushed like Shelly had just seen her prom dress.

  “Oh my God! Is that a dress?” she said and lifted it out of the box before Ivy could stop her. “Who sent this? It’s your size. Oh my God!”

  Shelly was gushing as she held it up. Ivy’s cheeks colored as she admired how gorgeous the cocktail dress looked. Shelly was right, it was her size. Ivy wondered how trained Travis’ eyes were to have guessed her exact dress size. It led to some thoughts that Ivy tried to dismiss, concerned about the implications of those thoughts.

  “Who sent it?” Shelly asked again, staring wide-eyed at Ivy who clutched the note close to her heart.

  She’s going to know. She has to.

  But Shelly didn’t guess, nor did she laugh as if she knew. Ivy couldn’t believe her good fortune that her dating life could remain a secret for the time being.

  “Just someone I know,” Ivy said, quickly snatching the dress out of Shelly’s hands.

  She tried to stuff it back into the box, but she noticed that her hands were still trembling. She couldn’t believe that Travis would actually do this. What made him think that she would want to see him again? How could he be so self-centered that he assumed she would wear that dress and have dinner with him? Who did he think he was?!?

  And what does it say for me that I want him to do it?

  Ivy genuinely was curious as to what had changed in Travis. The man could have had close to literally any woman in the city. Getting rejected by a barista should not have encouraged him to pursue her with an insane level of romantic display.

  And yet, suddenly, it had?

  “You’ll look beautiful in it, Ivy, when are you going to wear it?”

  Shelly was following her close on her heels as Ivy went over and deposited the box next to the staff coat hangers. Ivy hoped she could find words to end the conversation, but she struggled to do so.

  “I don’t know if I’ll wear it. It’s not my style. It’s just a silly surprise.”

  Ivy tried to hide the flush on her face, but Shelly wasn’t about to give up this easily. Her coworker simply had too much delightful eagerness to end conversation quickly.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” she continued and Ivy whipped around to face her, with bulging eyes and heaving breasts.

  “I’m not…seeing someone! I told you, it’s just some silly gift.”

  Ivy had snapped with far greater aggression than she meant. Shelly flinched and dropped the smile from her face.

  “All right, I was just asking. I don’t see why you’re not excited about it, it looks very expensive,” Shelly said in a smaller voice.

  Ivy breathed in deeply, shook her head, and walked out into the shop floor. She felt guilty about what she’d done to Shelly, but by the time she had gotten away from her, her thoughts shifted to a very different person.

  She took up her position behind the counter, while Shelly walked away to the coffee machines. Ivy tried on her fake smile, but she couldn’t seem to fake it today. Travis had sent her a dress, he had sent her a note! He expected her to have dinner with him that night. He had just assumed she would say yes.

  And he’s not wrong. But…

  How did he find out her home address? What methods had he used? Was he a dangerous man? He was a Marine—did he know people who were going to grab her?

  Ivy couldn’t have one coherent thought without breaking into a panic. She either delighted in the excitement of the evening or felt terrifying nerves as to what Travis might try and pull on her.

  After she had left his office building, she was under the assumption that she had offended him. That there was no chance that she would ever see him in person again. And at the time, she had had no regrets in doing so. While she had softened her stance some since, she began to feel nervous that Travis had not been so easily forgiving.

  Did he have something planned for her that night? A revenge for all the insults she had hurled at him? A chance to publicly shame her and remind her that Travis Dunn always won?

  It was possible. Maybe not probable, but certainly not outside the realm of possibilities.

  And yet, Ivy couldn’t stop thinking about how muscular his chest had felt when she fell on him. How icy blue and sexy his eyes were, the sharpness of his jaw…that heady scent of his cologne. She had never met a man like him before. He seemed almost too good to be true. Even now, the whole situation seemed like it didn’t just have the other shoe waiting to fall, it had another boulder waiting to fall.

  Customers came up to the counter and Ivy tried to focus on her job, but she couldn’t. Travis was all she could think of. She knew accepting his proposal would be a mistake and even seeing him again would be the wrong step, but she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what had made him change his mind. He had made it very clear to her that he didn’t have time for seduction. He wasn’t interested in it. So why was he now pursuing her? Had he decided a game might be fun?

  And for that matter, why was she suddenly head over heels for this man?

  She tried to strengthen herself against the force of Travis’ power over her, but even without trying, he had already made her do things that she had never done before. What else was he capable of making her do? How did he have a hold on her so quickly?

  Ivy’s fingers trembled the whole day as she tried to carry on with work. Customer service was not exactly ideal on a day like this, but she couldn’t lose her job, so she soldiered on. Her mind was elsewhere, she couldn’t stop thi
nking about Travis and what would happen if she did accept his offer.

  One thing she was certain of was that if she didn’t go that night, she would spend the rest of her life wondering what if. She’d already spent the previous few nights doing that.

  She wasn’t about to let that happen again. Not when she had a chance to see the true Travis Dunn in a private, actually romantic setting.

  Whatever minor thoughts Ivy had about saying no to Travis’ proposal got put to rest as soon as she entered her apartment. She soon turned into a focused, intense woman who would not be interrupted in her preparation.

  Ivy’s small studio apartment was completely overturned as she spent hours getting ready. She blinked as she stared at herself in the mirror at a quarter to nine. It was like she had been walking on clouds the whole day since she received the parcel. She couldn’t even recognize herself, or her actions. The barista had turned into… something beautiful. Something sexual.

  The red dress was a fitting cocktail dress that clung to every curve of her body, stretching tight across her thighs. The neck plunged low, revealing most of her cleavage, and had a dipping back. She couldn’t find matching shoes and had to make do with a pair of black stilettos which she had been saving for a special occasion—she couldn’t afford in time or in money to buy some matching shoes. She had done up her hair in a neat bun at the top of her head, with some shorter locks of strawberry blond hair falling gracefully to the sides and framing her face. A rich wine lipstick which she found at the bottom of her drawer was smoothly laid on her lips and she went with a smoky look for her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had gone to such lengths in getting dressed for the night, but now that she had decided to meet him, there was no point going half-heartedly.

  At nine, she locked her apartment behind her and went downstairs to find a sparkling black stretch limo in front of the building, right on schedule. A uniformed chauffeur was standing straight, holding the door open for her. Ivy wasn’t just getting the VIP service—she was getting the VIP’s VIP service.

  Without exchanging any words, Ivy stepped in. She half expected Travis to be inside the car, and as she entered, she said, “Fancy, huh?”

  But no response came. Ivy saw that she had the limo to herself, so she decided to make the most of it and observe the passing city in her first feeling of true luxury.

  The limo drove through the city, passing neighborhoods till they drove into the more affluent part of the city. Houses were spread wide apart with larger grounds and Ivy couldn’t remember if she had ever been here before. The limo drove in through massive wrought iron gates and down a pebbled driveway. Ivy’s eyes widened as she drank in the manicured lawns and how far and wide the estate stretched. One lawn took up more space than not just her studio, but seemingly her entire apartment complex.

  The car stopped outside a majestic red brick townhouse that stood elegantly in the middle of the sprawling grounds. A marble fountain greeted her. When the chauffeur opened the door for her again, he gave her his hand to help her step out. Ivy was flooded with self-consciousness as her heels scraped against the pebbled ground. She steadied herself on her feet and breathed in deeply, facing the house now.

  She hadn’t even taken a step before the front white door was lightly thrown open and Travis stepped out. He was illuminated by the flood of bright yellow light on the porch and her breath choked up in her throat. She stood for a few moments, staring at him because she couldn’t believe that she was actually going to have dinner with someone who looked like him. He was in a three-piece midnight blue suit, with a white shirt and a steel-gray tie. His clothes looked tailored and exuded wealth. From his position and the lighting, it once more looked like he stood in the spotlight, posing for a magazine cover.

  Ivy stepped towards the stairs that led up to the porch and noticed the shining black leather shoes he was wearing. The blueness of his eyes looked brilliant and sparkling, matching the clothes he was wearing. He had a serious firm expression on his face, and he swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand with his other one tucked into the pocket of his pants. He looked not just the part for a magazine cover, but a TV commercial as well. His serious expression, somehow, gave Ivy the sense that he enjoyed this moment very much.

  “You wear that dress well, Ivy,” he said as she climbed up the stairs.

  Travis was watching her every move as well, deliciously scanning the way the dress fitted her. The dip of her neck, her heaving cleavage, the curve of her hips. She stood in front of him now, and her stilettos contributed very little to match his height. He was still at least a foot taller than her. If he had come to romance her, he had not lost the sexual side that both terrified and turned on Ivy.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here, I shouldn’t have come,” Ivy said, forcing herself to look straight into his eyes and a faint grin formed on his face. “But…”

  “But here you are,” he said in that deep voice of his that seeped straight into her soul.

  Ivy sighed. Here in the moment, she felt… strange.

  “I thought you didn’t play games, Travis,” she said, testing him.

  He swirled his drink again and then took a large sip. He did so as slowly as a man could without being obvious.

  “I don’t,” he said, turning sideways to push open the front door. “And this is not a game.”

  He held open the door and waited for her to enter. Once inside the house, she was nearly blinded by the twinkling brightness of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the foyer. Travis kept his distance from her, as he led her through the foyer into what was the living room, but Ivy had never actually seen one like it before except in perhaps movies.

  The room was luxuriously decorated, with ruffled bottle green curtains, Turkish rugs and elaborate upholstery on the couches and chairs. A polished oak coffee table lay in the middle of the room, and everywhere Ivy turned, the walls were covered in oil paintings and shelves filled with books. The room seemed to be straight out of a medieval King’s home. She had to remind herself to not swoon over home decor. How can I not, though?

  “Have a seat, Ivy. May I offer you some wine?”

  His voice snapped her out of her love of the atmosphere. She reminded herself why she was here, and it was not to do an appraisal of the artwork and architecture.

  “Yes,” she said as she walked hesitantly towards one of the couches.

  They didn’t look like they had ever been sat on. Travis had walked over to the bar in the corner of the room and he was now pouring red wine into a crystal glass, while she looked about herself some more.

  “I’m glad you’ve accepted my apology,” he said.

  Ivy held her chin up as he turned to face her again, with the glass of wine in his hand. She still felt defensive, even though she also felt her defenses fading rapidly under Travis’ spell.

  “I never said I have,” she replied, crossing her leg under his watchful gaze.

  “This is true,” Travis said. “What would it take for you to forgive me?”

  Travis walked back towards her and handed her the glass of wine, which she accepted and cradled in her hands. She wasn’t exactly sure of all the etiquette involved in drinking wine in an environment like this, but she couldn’t help it. She knew she was completely out of her league now and there was no point worrying about embarrassing herself. Travis surely knew that she did not come from the high-class society that he had immersed himself in.

  “You don’t strike me as someone who is concerned about forgiveness,” she said as he sat down across from her on one of the chairs. She didn’t know why she had come across so aggressively, other than that she relished the chance to have Travis at her mercy—even if only in her head.

  Travis had unbuttoned his jacket before he sat and now he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he peered into her eyes. A playful grin danced on his lips as he watched her. She felt completely naked under his gaze, especially since he had seen her partially naked already and to
uched her in the most intimate way possible. So much for having the upper hand.

  “Then you have misjudged me as well, Ivy,” he said and took a sip of his whiskey.

  The ice cubes clinked together in his glass and made her skin tingle. His voice was velvet smooth and every word that came out of his mouth seemed measured and well thought out.

  “Enlighten me then, Travis,” she said, repeating his own words, and noticed the way his lips curled in a half-smile and then he took in a deep breath.

  “I had no intention of offending you, Ivy. I genuinely believed that you were in my office for a particular reason and I wanted to get it out of the way before you had to leave to go back to work,” he said, in all seriousness.

  Ivy took a sip of her wine and allowed the rich spicy flavor to travel warmly down her throat. He may have meant what he said, but that didn’t mean he had good reasons for meaning it.

  “Did I give you any reason to believe that I was on a mission?” she asked and Travis smiled, then shook his head. Now he gets it.

  “No, you didn’t, and for that I’m sorry,” he replied.

  Their eyes met. He looked less threatening tonight, more genuine, more real, and more approachable…or it could have been the wine she was drinking, she thought. But I’ve only had a few sips. You know that’s not the truth.

  “Then why did you…” she began to say, but he had interrupted her.

  “Because that is what I’m accustomed to, like you pointed out. You were right. I am used to a certain type of women. Meet them at a club or at a party, they throw themselves at me, they make it very clear what they want and I am always too happy to oblige. Who am I to deny a beautiful woman her pleasure?” Travis said and Ivy arched her eyebrows at him.

  He looked unconcerned with Ivy’s reaction.

  “So it’s a kind of public service that you carry out?” she said and she heard his laugh, a deep throaty laugh that only lasted a few seconds before he was back to smiling.