A Royal Mistake

by Piper Rayne

  “Sorry. I assumed.”

  “Ethan and I were all wrong for each other. He’s a bit of a control freak and so am I. We were like two rams headbutting one another with every decision that had to be made.”

  “And your friend. Do you not like her?”

  “No, I like her.”

  “Then why can’t you be around them if you don’t have feelings for him and you like her?”

  I allow myself a minute to think it through. “They’re in that touchy stage. That one where they can’t keep their hands off one another. They keep kissing and saying nice things to one another. It’s only been months and they’re already moving in together. Down the hall from me, no less.”

  He concentrates on me, not offering any advice, which I love. I hate when people try to fix my problems. Sometimes you just need someone to listen, that’s all. Ethan’s constant need to bandage up my problems always got us into fights, whether my problem had to do with him or not.

  “You’re just lonely then?”

  My fork slips out of my grasp and hits the china plate before cascading to the ground. “No, I’m not lonely. I’m fine. I have a dream job, great friends. I might not be royalty or have a bank account with a lot of zeros, but I’m comfortable and happy.”

  “Okay.” He raises his brows and looks back at his plate to concentrate on his meal.

  “What?”

  He glances up for a moment but moves back to perfectly cutting his chicken. “I said okay.”

  “No. You said okay.” I mimic his tone. The one that suggests I’m full of shit. That I’m not happy. Who does he think he is? I could point out that he’s not happy. There’s a reason he tried to dress like a slob to put me off and then sent the cameras away. But I’ll be polite.

  “Yes, and I meant okay. If you think you’re happy, then who am I to say different? We just met.”

  “Exactly.”

  The server comes out and hands me a fork, which reminds me there are eyes on us. Of course there are.

  “Do you ever grow sick of living in a fishbowl?” I ask.

  He looks at me and tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

  “The fact someone is watching us right now. That they were able to see I dropped my fork and brought one to me without me having to ask. You want to question my happiness? Maybe you should examine your own.”

  There’s that spiteful side of me roaring like a damn tiger again. Shit, I promised I’d keep her quiet tonight. Then again, I didn’t think the prince would be pointing fingers at me.

  “Truth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course I get sick of it. I hate it.” He looks at the stars, and it’s clear his mind is working.

  I study him for a moment. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more beautiful man. He has a raw edge mixed with sophisticated elegance. His manners are polished and flawless, but there’s a more rugged man clawing to get out. That’s about all I’ve been able to decipher about him so far.

  He turns to me. “Want to get out of here?”

  My eyes widen. “What?” Our plates are still half full and I’m sure there’s a great dessert coming.

  He pushes away his plate, slides out his chair. “They’ve got their pictures. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  The most wicked smile crosses his face. My assumption is right. There’s a wicked man who’s dying to get out of the straitjacket of his royal blood. “Wherever we want.”

  “What if someone recognizes you?”

  He takes my hand and warmth spreads up my arm. “What did that contest promise?”

  “A date with Prince Adrian Marx,” I say, still confused as to what’s going on. Surely he already had plans with his buddies to go to some hot new club after we finish dinner.

  He eyes the table covered with a bunch of dishes and glasses of champagne. “This isn’t a date with Prince Adrian Marx. Would you like to really experience a date with him?”

  Our eyes meet and a pull I didn’t feel until now tugs at me. I’m usually the first person to try something out of my comfort zone, but for some reason, I don’t think I’m prepared for whatever he has in mind. Still, a night out with a prince whose eyes are pleading with me to experience one night with him… I’d be crazy to say no.

  I nod, and the smile that lights up his face makes my stomach flip-flop like there’s a little gymnast in there.

  “Let’s go then.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “That’s the best part—I want to go wherever the night takes us. No plans.”

  He couldn’t have said anything more perfect.

  Chapter Four

  Adrian

  * * *

  Declan drives us through the busy streets of Manhattan while my mind is busy thinking of how we can ditch him. He’s not going to let me pay him off this time. I’m sure my mom has him on strict orders after I left Sandsal after breaking my dad’s nose.

  “Club?” Sierra asks from next to me.

  I shake my head. “How about Times Square?”

  She hems and haws but finally nods. Finding her hand in the back of the black SUV, I squeeze it, hoping it will let her in on the fact that there’s more to my plan.

  “Hey, Dec, we’re going to Times Square.”

  “Sir, I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

  “No one will recognize me.”

  Which is true. I might be a prince, but few people actually recognize me. Felicia is unfortunately right when she says that it’s the younger girls who seem to spot me. The ones who follow me on social media because I’m a prince and do crazy things like climb a cliff just to jump into the ocean. They think I’m the crazy bad boy prince, but I do listen to my mother—sometimes.

  “Do you have a hat back there?” Declan asks.

  Sierra smiles and her perfume wafts around the small interior. I love that it’s not overpowering.

  “No,” I say. “We’ll be fine. We’re just going to walk down and back.”

  Once we get closer, I figure I might as well try paying Declan off before I outright ditch him.

  Leaning forward, I hand him a one hundred. “How about you drop us off up ahead and I’ll call you when we’re ready?”

  He looks at me through the rearview mirror as if I’ve lost my mind. I stuff the hundred dollar bill back in my wallet. I lean back and squeeze Sierra’s hand one more time in a warning. Although she has no idea what I’m doing, I hope she goes with what I’m about to do.

  Sliding my hand up her neck, I tilt her head toward me and lean in so we’re cheek to cheek. For all Declan knows, we could be kissing. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve put him in that position.

  A soft purr murmurs out of her and my dick perks up. “We’re going to have to make a run for it. As soon as he stops close enough, open your door. I’ll meet you at your side to run into the crowd. Once we’re gone, there’s nothing he can do. He’ll never find us.”

  I nuzzle her face a little more so Declan doesn’t get suspicious, and when I draw back, the streetlight illuminates the inside of the vehicle through the sunroof. Her blush is perfect for Declan to think I just said something inappropriate.

  A few minutes later, the bright lights of Times Square come into view. I squeeze her hand once when Declan gets stuck between a truck trying to back up and two taxis wedging him in on either side.

  Sierra opens her door and Declan instantly puts the SUV in park. Then his gaze shoots to mine as I open my door. I feel bad for the panicked expression on his face as he watches me shut the door, but he can’t get his door open because of the taxi pressed in close beside him. Sierra’s thin enough to slip out, but Declan’s too big.

  He rolls down his window as I take Sierra’s hand. “Sir!”

  I wave to him and wink, which makes his face turn bright red. “Sorry. Don’t wait up.” Sierra laughs and I look at her. “Ready to experience a real date with me?”

  “Completely.”

  I tug her t
oward Times Square, the millions of lights making it feel as if it’s still daylight. We shuffle through the crowd of tourists and stop for a minute to watch a group of guys perform acrobatics. We pretend to be a normal couple on a date, her hand fitting perfectly in mine.

  We end up watching a bunch of different acts working their asses off to make money from the tourists, but our Times Square experience is over too quickly. It was a great starting point to lose Declan, but for some reason, I want more alone time with Sierra.

  “Tell me one thing you’ve always wanted to do in the city,” I say as we weave away from the busyness of Times Square. The streetlights don’t shine as brightly here, and it actually feels like we’re in New York and not Las Vegas.

  “I’m not really sure,” she says, so we continue walking. We end up walking right into Rockefeller Center and she turns to me. “Ice skating?”

  There’s no tree up yet and it’s early in the season, so the ice rink isn’t nearly as jammed as it was the one year my mom brought us here. Of course, then they closed off the rink for our family.

  “I feel I need to warn you that I’m pretty good on skates.”

  She smiles at me. “Is that so? Then I should warn you, I’m pretty good on skates too, and I’m not talking about man-made ice rinks my butler slaved over. I skated on ponds and basketball courts that just froze over.”

  She’s adorable. How did I not notice this when she first walked into the room earlier?

  “First of all, I live in the country, which means I too skated on ponds. And our butler answers the door and delivers drinks, thank you very much. It’d be the groundskeeper who’s in charge of the outdoors.”

  She giggles, her body swaying into mine, and it feels natural for me to open my arms to her, welcoming her into my hold. Her deep-red hair tickles my nose and the scent of her shampoo has me wondering what running her hair through my fingers would feel like.

  “Duly noted. I guess all we can do is get out there and see who’s the better skater,” she says.

  We rent ice skates and sit down to change out of our shoes.

  “I’d like to put a disclaimer out there,” she says, tying up her laces. “I am in a dress.”

  I look over then down at myself. Yeah, this won’t be easy. “No complaints if you want to do the Biellmann move.” I wink.

  “Biellmann move? Please tell me you weren’t a figure skater at one point?”

  “My sister. Felicia. All her life.” I lean in. “Another secret, I love her, but she’s not made for figure skating. The coaches are always barking orders. She wants to be the one barking orders.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” She stands, her feet wobbling before she gains stability. “I might want to put another disclaimer out there.”

  I stand, having the same issue at first, although I think my ankles just cracked too. “What’s that?”

  “It’s been years since I’ve ice skated. Eighteen years to be exact.”

  I take her hand. “No worries, a prince always takes care of his lady first.”

  We reach the edge of the ice, and her hesitation is clear from Sierra’s rigid stance. She doesn’t even smile at what I said, so I step out first, holding out my hand for her to take.

  “Ever have that hunch that you’re about to end up in the hospital?”

  “Where’s the firecracker who was talking all that smack?” I joke, but she’s pale and obviously unnerved about what was her idea in the first place. “It’s like riding a bike.”

  My skates slide and I lose my balance for a second but luckily recover so I don’t end up on my ass.

  “Yeah? Tell me, do you know how to ride a bike?” she asks.

  She eases her hand into mine and I skate backward, welcoming her onto the ice as I guide us to the side of the rink. “You assume I can’t ride a bike?”

  “I figured you always had someone drive you anywhere you wanted to go.”

  I shrug. I did. I can’t lie about that. “My mom was pretty set on us having as normal of a childhood as we could. We learned to ride in our backyard.”

  “I’ve seen your backyard,” she says.

  I feel the line between my brows appear. “You have?”

  “In pictures. I’m not sure I’d refer to it as a backyard.”

  “Sure, it is.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “It’s bigger than all of Manhattan.”

  “Nooo.” In truth, she may be right. And she’s only been able to see where the press snaps pictures they’re authorized to.

  “Let me ask you something? Are you modest, ignorant as to how you grew up, or just trying to lie to me?”

  “Do you realize you’ve skated half the rink already?”

  She looks behind her then meets my gaze. “Don’t dodge the question.”

  I let go of one of her hands as she gets the rhythm of skating down. “Just like riding a bike. You’re doing great. Even in that dress.”

  “I had to hike it up,” she says.

  “You think I didn’t notice?” I grin at her.

  A blush creeps into her cheeks and my dick takes notice. This woman, with her red hair and her blushes, is like a damn siren.

  “You’re still dodging the question,” she says.

  “I’m conversing.”

  “Answer the question.”

  A kid whizzes by her side and Sierra’s arms flail, but she catches the side of the rink.

  I stop right in front of her, ready to start over, but she shoos me away. “I can do this. Distract me by telling me the answer to my question.” She smirks and one foot slides out while her other foot joins in. She’s not smooth, but she’s getting the job done.

  I sigh, ready to bare the truth to who is essentially a stranger. “I know I’m privileged, and I abuse that privilege. Just my name alone gets me things. Things you can’t even imagine. But lately I’ve wondered what it would be like to live a normal life.”

  She huffs. “Trust me, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Like right now. If anyone around here recognized me, they’d take pictures and wonder who you were. They’d do almost anything to find out. Misconstrue what’s happening here and before dawn, your whole life story would be in the paper.”

  “Yes, but you get to vacation in exotic places. You have servants and bodyguards. Have you ever had to worry about parallel parking in the city? How far of a walk you’d have in four-inch heels after you got off the subway? How you’d make ends meet?”

  “You speak from experience?”

  She stares at me with a blank expression. “Yeah. I do.”

  “I guess there’s the good and the bad, but lately all I’ve seen is the bad.” I shrug.

  “Ever wonder what it would be like to run away? Start fresh? Just hop on a bus to the first city it took you to, find a job, and start a brand new life?”

  I observe her while she continues to concentrate on getting her footing correct. Truth is, she’s doing awesome, but her last statement concerns me. Is her life so bad that she wants to run away? Then again, my life isn’t bad per se, and I’ve had thoughts of disappearing too.

  “A bus? And give up my private plane?”

  She shakes her head at me. I’m glad she gets my humor because that moment was way too serious for me.

  “So just me, huh?” The corners of her pink lips turn down.

  I could be a douche and lie so that tomorrow she won’t report that during her dream date with Prince Adrian, he admitted to being done with his royal obligations, but something tells me that what Sierra and I are doing tonight isn’t her interviewing me to give the scoop to anyone.

  “No. I’ve had those feelings ever since I was ten and realized the cameras weren’t all that cool and the photographers behind them were assholes only out for themselves.”

  A look of remorse mixed with pity mars her beautiful features. “I’m sorry.”

  I hate that look, so I recover quickly. “Don’t be. I’m a prince, remember?” I wink to show h
er everything is cool in my book.

  Then a group of kids pass by and one of them smacks her ass, turning around and laughing after he passes. I’d go after the little jerk and ream him out but Sierra stumbles and grabs my jacket for support, which makes me lose my footing and all I can do is try to cushion her fall. I allow myself to go down first, my arm swinging around her waist so she falls on top of me.

  Her head falls into my chest and she peeks up, her hair in her eyes. I brush it out of the way, and for a moment, our eyes meet, and it feels as if we’re going to kiss. She laughs, her chest vibrating along my stomach.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Did you plan this? Saving me from falling down on the ice? What a princely thing to do. Are the cameras somewhere nearby?” She searches the area as she crawls to her feet, but she’ll find nothing.

  “Just like a fairy tale,” I say.

  She shakes her head as we skate off the ice. “There’s no such thing as fairy tales.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Chapter Five

  Sierra

  * * *

  We return our skates and end up grabbing a taxi to drive us to the Brooklyn Bridge.

  “You’re different than I thought you’d be,” I say after he pays the taxi and we head toward the pedestrian walkway.

  He smirks, turning in my direction for a second. “How so?”

  “More down to earth maybe?”

  He nods as though he gets that a lot. “Did you expect me to be in my royal attire and force you to bow?”

  “No, but for some reason I expected you to be crazy wild.”

  “How so?”

  “I didn’t think a night in New York with you would constitute you wanting to walk the Brooklyn Bridge and ice skate at Rockefeller. Especially after ditching your security.”

  His phone had buzzed a few times right after we left the vehicle, but I think he must’ve silenced his phone because it’s been quiet since.

  “For me, the fact that I don’t have to take pictures, and no one really knows who I am feels freeing. When you show up with a guy who looks like he’s a professional wrestler and an assistant, people know you’re someone, even if they don’t know exactly who, which means they linger until they figure it out. You have no idea how many times I’ve taken a picture with someone only to be asked who I was after.”