Rory stands and it appears the Queen attempts to congratulate him, but neither of them seems to understand the other over the din. Eventually they give up and she concludes by offering him a handshake. Prince Charles does likewise, followed by the two younger Princes. Then the guards escort Her Majesty and Prince Charles from the balcony and the official part of the ceremony is over. The entire thing, including the anthem, lasted less than fifteen minutes.
Prince William and Prince Harry take over at that point. The crowd quiets as William leans into the mic. He says, “Please join me in welcoming England’s newest knight, Sir Rory Winston!” Instantly the mayhem returns, and only gets louder as Rory steps between the two Princes and waves to the crowd.
I must say, despite everything, I’m quite proud of Rory. But my shattered heart aches when I look at that handsome face and remember lying in his bed, just talking. We were instant best friends, and now that’s gone along with the incredible sex.
Nice one, there, Rory. Brilliant.
Even my thoughts are sarcastic. Damn that man for ruining such a lovely thing. I feel the tears coming and swallow hard, pushing them back.
The two Princes ask Rory questions, and the crowd quiets enough to hear the conversations, applauding loudly for his answers about the next World Cup. When he tells them he plans on remaining with Tottenham instead of signing with one of the other Premier League clubs, there are a few good-natured boos thrown in.
The interview lasts another fifteen minutes, then Prince Harry says, “Before we conclude, we have something a little unorthodox for you. Sir Rory has asked us, as well as all of you, to bear witness to another very special moment in his life. Where is Miss Abigail Payne?”
My heart almost stops beating.
Prince Harry just said my name. I must have imagined it.
Geoffrey and Malcolm are almost as stunned as I am, but Malcolm shouts out, “She’s right here!” and points. People start looking over, and I see Rory pointing at me from the balcony.
“Guards, would you please escort Abigail up here?” the Prince says.
Within seconds the crowed nearby has parted as two Royal Guards make their way to me. I’m numb as they lead me back through the crowd and into Buckingham Palace, a place I’ve only been inside once, while on a tour. I’m escorted through several large rooms and up a flight of stairs.
“What is going on?” I ask them when I’ve recovered my ability to speak.
“Just following His Royal Highness’s orders,” one says.
I offer up a silent prayer for the outfit I purchased for today’s event. Geoffrey gave me a bonus and I decided to splurge on a gorgeous Vivienne Westwood dress.
Suddenly I’m ushered onto the balcony, where I see them all: Prince William and Princess Catherine, Prince Harry and Princess Meghan, and several other faces I recognize. The two Princesses are beautiful beyond words, and they both give me big, beaming smiles. This is all so surreal.
But why? What the hell is going on? Is Rory actually thinking he can use the Royal Family to apologize to me?
The guards take me to the microphone, where the two Princesses introduce themselves.
“I think I’ll turn this over to Sir Rory now,” Harry says with a grin, and he and his brother take a step back.
“Rory, are you daft?” I whisper. Unfortunately, the mic is more sensitive than I thought and the crowd bursts into laughter. Mortified, I turn to the Royal Family, only to see them laughing as well.
Rory puts up his hands and motions for quiet, and the people comply.
“Abby,” Rory says, “I have been an idiot this week, which under normal circumstances would be pretty typical of me.” There’s a smattering of laughter that quickly dies down. I’m now convinced that he’s indeed using the occasion of his knighting, and Princes William and Harry, to convince me to forgive him for taking me to his bed just after he’d been in there with someone else. Two someone elses, actually.
“But the last seven days have been anything but typical. It seems I, quite accidentally, have fallen in love.”
The sighs from the women in the crowd are audible.
What did he just say?
Has he gone mad? Have I, for that matter?
“I’ve been told I can’t use the ceremonial pillow for this. I need to kneel for the second time today.”
He drops to one knee in front of me and when I look into those lovely green eyes, I no longer see the bad boy from the tabloids. Instead I see the man I’m so madly in love with.
I’m also suddenly afraid I’ll pass out. This can’t possibly be what I think it is.
Rory produces a black ring box from his coat and opens it to show the biggest, most gloriously stunning diamond I’ve even seen, mounted on an equally lovely silver band. The crowd grows silent.
“Abby, you are the only woman in the world I would agree to grow up for. You have stolen my heart and I am truly and madly in love with you. I would be stupid not to take you off the market immediately before some other man realizes how incredible you are. If I promise to be the man you need and deserve, would you consent to becoming my wife?”
More sighs, louder this time. I even hear a few sniffles.
This isn’t really happening. I must be dreaming.
You could hear a pin drop as Rory looks at me and waits for an answer.
I would agree to marry him in a heartbeat if I believed him. That’s the crux of the matter: Can I believe him?
I look into those eyes again and search for honesty, for a sense of contrition. I see them both, but most of all I see love. For whatever reason, this man is as smitten with me as I am with him.
Someone quietly coughs and I look to see Prince Harry, smiling.
“Sorry,” I say, eliciting gasps from the crowd. “No, I don’t mean it that way!” I hurriedly look back at Rory. “Yes! Yes, I will marry you!”
I throw my arms around him as he stands, nearly knocking him to the ground. He hugs me back hard, then says in my ear, “The ring, they want to see you try it on.”
I take a step back, tears now streaming down my cheeks, and hold out my left hand. Rory places the ring on my finger and I feel like I’m floating, as if I might explode from happiness. I think about how I can’t wait to tell my parents, but then realize they’re likely watching from home on the telly. They yet don’t even know I’ve met the man!
Then Rory pulls me to him for a kiss and the crowd goes utterly mad. It’s all Rory and I can do to keep our tongues from getting involved, but it’s still the hottest tongue-free kiss in recorded history.
There are congratulations all around on the balcony, and I get hugs from the Princes and Princesses.
I realize out of the blue that my life has become a fairy tale. A week ago I was just a girl working in a government office. Now I’m going to be married to a handsome British hero.
A bloody knight, for Christ’s sake.
Me, Abby Payne, am Cinde-fucking-rella.
Rory and I are escorted to the ballroom by the Royal entourage. There are a couple of hundred guests there who applaud when we enter. It occurs to me that while most of the applause is for their newly knighted football hero, some of the women are likely cheering for the nobody who somehow managed to snag him.
I’ll take it, because bloody hell, I earned it.
We spend the next hour drinking Champagne and eating amazing canapés. The Princes and their wives only stay for a few minutes, but they all make sure to congratulate Rory and I before making their exit. Meghan gives me a smile that I’m pretty sure tells me I’m soon to become an official member of the Bad Boys’ Wives Club.
At one point I excuse myself and ask a waiter where the loo is. I’m pointed in the direction and make my way there. The loo is as opulent as everything else in this place is, and I again pinch myself to make sure this is all real.
When I’m done, I’m surprised to find Rory waiting for me in the hallway. No one else is around, so I run into his arms and we have that full-o
n kiss we couldn’t have earlier. It’s total bliss. I’m kissing the man I’m going to marry!
My head is swimming with such thoughts when I feel something hard against my stomach. I halt the kiss and look down. Just as I thought.
“Rory!” I say, thrilled that just kissing my man provokes this reaction, but mortified that he’s got a visible hard-on in Buckingham Palace. “You can’t let anyone see you like that! Get rid of it!”
In return I get a look that tells me it won’t be easy. Just then a couple walks towards us and stops. Rory turns his body at an angle and puts his arm around my waist as they stop to offer congratulations to both of us. The man shakes Rory’s hand and then they’re on their way. I look down and see he’s still bulging.
“Your John Thomas is going to get us in trouble,” I say, pointing.
Rory looks around then heads for a closed door, dragging me by the hand. It’s locked, so he tries another. Then a third. This one opens to reveal a large storage closet with cleaning supplies: hoovers, brooms and the like. He nudges me in and closes the door behind us, leaving us mostly in the dark.
“We can’t,” I say, but he’s already kissing me again, pressing me against the back of the door. His hands are all over me, slipping into my dress to caress my tits one moment, then sliding up my thighs the next. The entire idea that we’re doing this here, of all places, is exciting beyond belief. He lifts my dress up to my waist and removes my lace pants, hanging them on the door knob. My hand finds his hard-on and rubs it through his trousers, then holding it directly once he’s dropped them.
“I didn’t think to bring a condom,” he says apologetically. “I wasn’t expect—”
“Just shut up and fuck me,” I say. “I want you so badly.”
His cock seems bigger and harder than ever. Lifting me up, he pins me to the door and supports me under my thighs as he slides it into me.
Not in my wildest dreams is this how I thought today would play out. I’m being fucked by my fiancé in a storage closet at Buckingham Palace. This is quite possibly the oddest, most fabulous day ever.
Rory rams his cock into me again and again. “Don’t take too long,” I say. “You’ll muss up my dress and my hair.”
After another minute or two of hard fucking, he slows to a halt. “What’s wrong, love?” I ask.
“I’m about to come.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I don’t need your spunk sloshing around inside me in the ballroom.” I find the switch next to the door and turn on the light. His hard-on is throbbing and shiny between us.
Rory takes it in his hand. “I suppose I could…”
“No, don’t be silly,” I say, scanning the little room. There’s are boxes lining the walls, and I find one approximately the correct height, wipe off any dust, and take a seat. “Bring that to me.”
A few seconds later my lips are on his hard-on, and he’s holding the back of my neck as I suck him with more passion than I’ve ever sucked a man with before. It doesn’t take me long at all to get him there. He stifles a groan as his cock throbs, then I taste his warm cum everywhere in my mouth at once. Good God, there’s a lot of it. I work hard to keep it all in my mouth so nothing gets on my dress or his trousers. Gradually his thrusts slow, then he slides out of me. I swallow, then lick the remainder off the tip.
“Holy fuck, you’re good at that.
“Thank you, Sir,” I say.
“Your turn,” he says, lifting my dress to my waist as he lowers himself between my legs.
His tongue touches my clit for just a moment before I regain my senses. “No, Rory,” I say, pushing his head away. “We have to get back before they realize we’ve disappeared.”
He reluctantly agrees. “Then I’ll just have to make you come three or four times later.”
“Mmm, I’ll hold you to that.”
We kiss one more time, then he helps me back into my lace pants. I dust off my backside as he cracks open the door and peeks out.
“It’s clear, come on.” I take his hand and we stroll out as if nothing out of the ordinary were going on.
A second later, Geoffrey McKibben turns the corner and see us. “There you are,” he says, obviously agitated. “Her Majesty wants a word with you two.”
Rory says, “Fuck. How long has she—“
“She just got there, but hurry.”
We enter the ballroom and spot the Queen’s guards around her immediately. Rory leads me by the hand in her direction until she sees us.
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Rory says. “Abby wanted some air.”
Queen Elizabeth nods and motions for me to step forward.
“Hello, Your Majesty,” I say, my voice shaky.
“Hello, dear. My sons told me about the proposal and I insisted on congratulating you in person. I believe that was the first proposal ever on the balcony.”
I smile, unsure what to say. She daintily shakes Rory’s hand, then mine.
“Congratulations to both of you. May you enjoy a long and happy lifetime together.”
We both thank her, then she says to Rory, “And England is counting on you in the 2022 World Cup.”
Seconds later, she and her Royal Guards leave the ballroom, leaving me with a single thought: I just spoke to the Queen herself, with the taste of Rory’s spunk still fresh on my tongue.
Oddest day ever, indeed.
Rory
The afternoon sun is bright as I look at the stunning lagoon at the Four Seasons Resort in Mauritius. Our villa has a dining area that extends out over the water on one side, and a bedroom with a hot tub that does the same on the other side. It is truly paradise here.
Thinking back on that day at Buckingham Palace, it still seems surreal. I was already the luckiest bloke on the planet, getting paid a fortune to play a kids’ game, then becoming a national hero and getting knighted because of it. But I also proposed to Abby, which tops everything.
The Queen had insisted on meeting me just inside the balcony doors for a brief private conversation prior to the ceremony. She said, “Mr. Winston, I’m going to trust that from this day forward, you’ll do your level best not to embarrass the crown.”
I promised I would, and told her I hoped to get married and settle down very soon.
“Your Majesty, I feel I should also apologize for the bad publicity this week. I understand that it reflects poorly on the award.”
She surprised me by saying, “Pish posh. You’re a British hero and anyone who says otherwise is unpatriotic.” Then she lowered her voice and added, “They tell me Rod Stewart is no angel.”
I thanked her for being so understanding. While they were preparing to lead us out, Prince Harry approached me and told me his and William’s plan to ask me a few question after the ceremony for the crowd’s sake.
“They’ve been waiting for hours. We can’t very well send them home after ten minutes, can we?” he said.
That’s when I asked him if he thought a marriage proposal might give the crowd a little more of a show. He agreed and we quickly planned it. The rest is British history. Many of the those who were against my being knighted came over to my side because of that ring.
My father was absolutely right when he said the tabloids would move along to the next big story, and as fate would have it, I was the one who handed that one to them as well. They went from my sex life to my upcoming nuptials in a matter of days.
“Daddy!”
I turn to see Rooney bolting towards me across the little bridge. “We saw a big dog!”
Behind my four-year-old son is my beautiful wife, carrying the baby. When she smiles at me, it’s a reminder of how blessed I have been in my life. And behind Abby are her parents, Trevor and Sarah.
My in-laws are great, and it’s easy to see where Abby gets her beauty and charm. My relationship with them was a bit dodgy at first, seeing as how my recent sex life had been chronicled in excruciating detail by Emily the redhead in the Sun. Once they got to know me a little and saw how committed I was to th
eir daughter, things quickly improved.
I look over at Abby, her blonde hair and blues eyes stills as lovely as ever. Her gorgeous curves have only gotten sexier with time. I’m deeply in love with this woman and I’d have never forgiven myself for not doing everything in my power to win her back after my former bad-boy self chased her away.
Rooney shows me his toy lorry for the twentieth time today, and I open my eyes wide like it’s the first time I’ve seen it.
“Can you take Elsbeth for a bit, love?” Abby asks, holding my daughter to me. She’s only ten months old, but I already see her mother’s beauty all over that little face.
“Sure,” I say, taking the little angel. My other angel leans in and kisses me softly on the lips.
“Mmm,” she says, adding a second kiss.
I see that look in her eyes and know that Granny and Grandad will be asked to babysit for a while tonight.
Yes, convincing Abby to agree to marry me is far and away the best thing I’ve ever done.
At least it was, until these two little ones came along. Now it’s a three-way tie.
Alexis is the best-selling author of more than
fifty steamy romance novels and novellas.
Her books include the highly acclaimed series:
Forced to Bloom
The Billionaires’ Executive Sweet
Hollywood Bad Boys Club,
Sex Education: A Woman’s Awakening.
Click here for a full list of Alexis’s books.
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My Wedding Knight (A Wedding Season Series) Page 7
