Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  Victoria turns to Mick. “That is why you don’t leak the location of the hotel.”

  “But since they’re all already here, we should just have the press conference.” He grins. “We save time this way. The kids can give their little speech, and then Pax can get on with getting to rehearsal. Think about it.” He claps her on the shoulder. “I saved us probably two hours getting everyone here ahead of time.”

  She rolls her eyes and shakes her head before she turns back to Pax and me, pulling a paper from her bag. “Here’s the statement I prepared. You don’t have to take questions—you don’t have to say anything but what’s on this piece of paper.”

  “Or you can take questions and say whatever you want.” Mick’s the one who rolls his eyes this time. “You reporter-types are all the same—you can sure dish it out, but when you’re on the other side of the cameras…” He shakes his head. “You two do whatever feels best to you up there. If it feels right to take a few questions, then do it.”

  Pax looks down at me, lifting an eyebrow as though he’s asking me a question.

  “How would I know?” I tilt my head. “I’ve never seen anything like this in person. My brother Leo—”

  Victoria interrupts. “Leo probably never saw half that many reporters at one time. This is…” She shakes her head again. “Unprecedented.”

  Someone from the hotel comes over and begins speaking to Victoria and Mick.

  Pax grins down at me. “I do love unprecedented.”

  “I’m not sure I can do this.” I glance over my shoulder out the glass doors behind us. There are guards holding the fans at bay, while the media are trying to take photographs through the windows.

  “You can do this. And you don’t have to do it alone.” He pulls my hand into his, squeezing it. “We’ll be together every step of the way.”

  Pax

  The press conference goes well, all things considered. We read Victoria’s statement, and though I’m willing to answer a few questions from the reporters, it’s clear Sophia isn’t, so we just leave it at that. It doesn’t keep the reporters from shouting questions at our backs as we walk away, but they’ll be able to see soon enough that Sophia isn’t actually pregnant.

  When we get to my room, I collapse on the bed with a sigh. I’m completely beat, and judging by the look on Sophia’s face, she is, too. I pull her into my arms, hugging her against my chest.

  “This is exhausting,” I murmur into her hair.

  “Is this what our life is going to be now?” she asks, her fingers trailing across my stomach.

  I’m about to answer her, but before I can, she bursts into laughter.

  “What?” I prompt her, surprised by her sudden shift in mood.

  “It’s just I don’t know why I’m so surprised by all this. What did I expect? In less than a month we’ve hooked up, had a sex tape go viral, and got drunkenly married in Las Vegas. Now one of us just needs to have a public breakdown and we’ll have completed the perfect trifecta of celebrity attention-seeking behavior.”

  “I could do the public breakdown,” I say with a smile. “What do those usually involve? Getting smashed and doing something stupid? Done.”

  She laughs again. “You get bonus points if you set something on fire. Or try to start a fight with a cashier at a fast food place because they didn’t give you enough chicken nuggets. Oh! And all points are doubled if you also start crying.”

  “What if I cry over the chicken nuggets?”

  “Even better.” She snuggles closer. “In my case, I’d probably need to shave my head and destroy public property.”

  “You’d look kind of hot with a shaved head.”

  She jabs me in the side. “You don’t like my hair?”

  “I love your hair. I’m just saying…some women can pull off the whole edgy shaved-head thing. I think you’d be one of them.”

  “I’m not edgy.”

  “I’m going to have to disagree with you there, Princess,” I say, rolling over onto my side to face her. “You definitely have an edge. You’ve just spent years hiding it beneath the layers of the ‘perfect little princess.’ But it’s there. I see it.”

  She snuggles closer, burying her face in my chest. “You might be the only one.”

  I thread my fingers through her “I’m okay with that. I like knowing a few secrets about you.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “What about you? What are your secrets?”

  I squeeze her closer. “Maybe I don’t have any.”

  “You do.” Her lips brush against my shoulder. “You probably have more secrets than I do.”

  I know what she’s hinting at, but for some reason, she doesn’t ask me outright about “The Lost Night.” I take advantage of this, changing the subject.

  “Have you been thinking about what Mick said? About you having a platform now?”

  “I’ve always had a platform.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’ve never wanted to be famous,” she says. “I don’t really care about acting or anything like that. But he’s right about using this to help my favorite charities. Maybe I’ll look into that.”

  “And the duet?”

  Her breath is warm against my skin. “You heard me sing the night we got married. I have a terrible voice.”

  “They can do a lot with technology these days. Most pop stars can’t actually sing.” I smile. “But either way, I like your voice.”

  “You were drunk. I don’t trust your judgment.”

  “I think other people would like your voice, too.”

  “Still.” Her fingers skim up my side. “Do you want to do a duet?”

  “Maybe. I honestly hadn’t even considered the idea before Mick said anything, but…I don’t know, it could be pretty awesome. Making music is my life. And bringing you into it, sharing that with you…” I’m getting dangerously close to sounding sappy, so I let my sentence trail off.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s enough for me,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

  For a moment, we just lie in each other’s arms, saying nothing. I can feel the rise and fall of her chest against mine, and my fingers comb through her hair, marveling at how soft it is. I can’t believe this woman is my wife.

  Her mood has shifted again. I suspect, from the heaviness of the silence between us, that she’s thinking about her father. I don’t blame her. I’d be freaking out if Ma had had a heart attack when we’d told her about us. I wish there was something I could do to make this easier on Sophia, but what am I supposed to do or say? ‘Sorry if our marriage might have driven your father to his deathbed, but I hope my love makes up for it,’ doesn’t sound right no matter how I word it in my head.

  After a few minutes, she pulls out of my arms.

  “Where are you going?” I ask her, propping myself up on my elbows.

  “Nowhere,” she says. She reaches over and gives my shoulder a little shrug, pushing me over onto my back. “But I can’t deal with just lying here. I need to do something. Keep myself busy.”

  I reach toward her, letting my fingers brush across her breast. “I can think of a few ways to keep you busy.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of taking the lead this time,” she says, pulling out of my grasp. “Don’t move.”

  That’s suspicious. “What—”

  My words cut off as she grabs my belt and pulls it open. In a matter of seconds she has my jeans unzipped and she’s pulling them and my boxers down over my hips.

  “I like where this is going,” I say with a smile.

  “It gets even better.” She takes my cock in her hand, and I groan as her fingers curl around it. I could get used to this.

  But she’s just getting started. She kneels between my legs, and my brain doesn’t even have time to register what she’s doing before she drops her head, sliding my length between her lips.

  “Fuck…” I moan the word, my head falling back. All other thoughts fall out of my mind. T
he only two things in the world are her mouth and my cock. I’m pretty sure my eyes roll back in my head. Time slows down. The pleasure completely shuts out everything else.

  Until a pounding sound knocks me back into the present.

  I groan in disappointment as Sophia raises her head, releasing me.

  The pounding sounds again—someone is knocking on the door.

  “Pax!” It’s Rider. “You better fucking be in there. Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone?”

  I haven’t charged my phone since yesterday. It’s probably dead. “I’m here.”

  “You’re fucking late. We’ve got to get to the arena.”

  Fuck. I’d completely forgotten—we have a show tonight.

  I leap up, tugging up my pants. My cock is aching and tender, and it physically hurts to trap it in my jeans again. I shoot Sophia an apologetic look.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Believe me, I’d much rather be here, but—”

  “But you’ve got a show.” She stands and offers me a small smile. “I understand.”

  “Pax!” yells Rider.

  “I’m coming!” I snap. “Hold your damn horses!”

  I take Sophia’s face in my hands. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

  I don’t believe her for a second. “Maybe you should go find Victoria again. Hang out with her. Mick should be getting you another VIP pass—”

  “I’ll figure it out,” she says. Her smile is obviously forced. “Go on. I think Rider—”

  “Dammit, Pax! If you’re not fucking out here in three seconds—”

  “I’ll see you later,” I say, dipping my head and giving her a quick peck. And then I hurry to the door before Rider tries to break it off its hinges.

  Sophia

  Perhaps I should have gone to see Victoria this afternoon, but I needed to have some time to myself. I’m worried about my father, of course, but there are other worries nagging at me. I suppose I should be most concerned about Pax’s secret and that he refuses to tell me anything about it.

  But the thing that bothers me most is knowing I still haven’t told Pax that I love him.

  He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it—he hasn’t said anything about it, anyway. The timing just hasn’t been right. And part of me still isn’t sure that whatever it is between us isn’t going to burn out as quickly as it began.

  There are just too many things to think about.

  Mick arrives at the hotel to escort me to the concert himself this time. He yaps in my ear the entire walk to the arena next door about this or that—I tune him out as soon as he starts yammering on again about singing a duet with Pax.

  There are many things I’ve thought of doing in my life. Singing for the public is not one of them.

  I stare out across the way, trying my best to ignore Mick. If my head wasn’t such a jumble, I might be able to appreciate the scenery more—this part of the world is not one I’m very familiar with. Even though the city itself is quite flat, the red mountains rising on the outskirts are lovely.

  Exploring the world. That is something I might want to do with my time. Singing is not.

  Mick continues with whatever it is he’s going on about—he never stops talking the entire walk to the arena. I catch bits and pieces, nodding when it seems appropriate, but I’m not listening at all. My mind is still consumed with much more than it should be.

  I’m escorted into the arena through a back entrance where several large men meet us.

  Mick is still talking, though I haven’t bothered to listen to anything he’s been saying in quite some time.

  “…It’s just like your sister said. A united front.”

  I turn to him, my brow furrowed. “What?”

  He lifts a brow. “A united front. That’s why you’ll be front and center at the concert tonight.” He cocks his head. “Were you listening to anything I said?”

  “Not really.” I frown, my gaze falling on the large man in front of me. “Is this really necessary? All the bodyguards?”

  “You saw what happened in the hotel in San Francisco. It’s a miracle they didn’t beat you to a pulp.” He glances between the other men surrounding us. “We’re not going to have a riot tonight.”

  “And Pax okayed all of this?” I turn back to Mick. “You don’t think this isn’t going to create more of a spectacle?” What he’s suggesting finally begins to sink in. “And I really have no desire to be in front of the stage calling attention to myself. I’m fine standing to the side. I can still see and hear—”

  “You really weren’t listening to anything I said, were you?” He presses his lips into a line, his nostrils flaring. “Fine, let’s go through it one more time. You’re going to be front and center. Pax is going to pull you onstage—”

  I interrupt. “No. I’ll not—”

  “You already agreed.” He motions behind him. “Out there. It’s already arranged.”

  “I’m not singing—”

  “No one said anything about you singing.” He shakes his head. “Were you just completely out to lunch the entire way here? Pax is going to pull you onstage and sing to you. You’ve seen the act, right? He pulls a girl up to sing to her during “Crazy Little Drug.” Or were you checked out for that, too?”

  “I wasn’t checked out for anything.” My gaze narrows. “Forgive me, I have plenty on my mind to worry about besides your inane attempts at publicizing my relationship.”

  “You’ve done more than enough to publicize it yourself.” He sets his jaw. “It’s my job to do what’s best for Pax’s career. It’s your job—”

  “I have no job. And I’ll not have you telling me what to do.”

  He lets out a loud huff. “I’m only making a suggestion. And pulling you onstage tonight was Pax’s idea.” He motions toward the bodyguards. “This was my idea. To protect you from the savages.”

  I suppose he isn’t wrong about me needing protection from the fans that will be nearest the stage. But it still seems that having so many people around me will only draw more attention.

  “One. I’ll have one person with me…” I glance among the men. “But not six. That just seems ridiculous.”

  “Two.” Mick shakes his head. “At least two. I’d feel a lot better if you’d let us have at least four—”

  “One. And you can have the others wherever you need them, but not flanking me.”

  “Fine.” Mick rolls his eyes. “But if you’re attacked…”

  “Perhaps I should just go back to the hotel if you’re so worried about it. I’ll wait there for my husband—”

  “No. Even if you never go to another concert, you have to be at this one. We can’t be suggesting there’s trouble in paradise. Not yet.” He shakes his head. “Let’s just get you out there.”

  I’m led to the floor of the arena. It’s odd to be here so early and all by myself before any of the concertgoers have arrived. The guard—the largest of the men—stands beside me throughout the show. The others are nearby, but making themselves as inconspicuous as large men can.

  The women surrounding me ignore me for the most part. Or perhaps they’re afraid to engage because of the guard. Mostly, everyone seems engrossed in the show, as I am, too. Pax is many things, but his talent shines when he’s performing.

  He sings that song again. “The Lost Night.” And my stomach twists on itself when I see the emotion behind his eyes. He’s definitely hiding something. Something terrible. And I’m not sure I can go on much longer without knowing what it is.

  We finally get to the part of the show where a member of the audience is pulled up onstage with the band.

  Pax smiles down at me, his gaze locking with mine before he extends his hand to guide me onto the stage.

  He looks out over the crowd as he slides his arm around my waist. “I’d like you introduce you all to the love of my life.” He grins down at me. “Everyone, this is Sophia.”

  Pa
x

  I pull her toward me and kiss her, bending her over backwards with a dramatic sweep. The crowd roars, and I hope at least some of them are actually happy for us, not just screaming because I’m off the market. When I release her and look toward the crowd, I’m relieved to see that many of them are actually excitedly cheering. With a grin, I turn back toward Sophia. She looks a little shell-shocked, but I imagine that’s because she’s never been up on a stage in front of this many people before.

  We launch into “Crazy Little Drug,” and I keep her hand in mine the whole time as I sing to her. The crowd goes wild, eating up every second of it. Maybe they realize the enormity of what they’re witnessing, my first time serenading my wife on stage. I can’t even fucking describe what it’s like to have her here with me, sharing this. Being a part of the thing that makes my soul feel alive. I look into her eyes and sing to her with all the emotion I have in me, living through each and every word of the song.

  It ends too soon. And when it does, it’s torture to let her go. If I had my way, she’d be up here for the rest of the concert, but I’m not sure the guys—or Sophia—would go for that.

  So I help her back down to the front row, holding onto her fingers for as long as I can.

  The rest of the concert is a blur, and I ride the high all the way to the end. And the other guys feel it, too. As we’re heading off the stage at the end, a grinning Charlie claps me on the back. “That was a great show. One of our best.”

  “Did you hear the reaction that last song got?” Rider adds. “They really fucking love us.”

  We’re all laughing and joking with each other as we head backstage, but all I can think about is Sophia. I can’t wait to have her in my arms again and celebrate the show in style.

  This time, I made sure security knows exactly what she looks like, and hopefully the bodyguards will keep her from getting mobbed as she makes her way back here. Mick is a lifesaver. He took care of everything for me.

  We’re backstage for about ten minutes before she walks through the door, a bodyguard on either side of her. I break into a grin and leap up from the sofa, going over to her.