“I’m not my brother so quit attempting to boss me around like you would him. Pretty sure that’s my job… to boss you around. And I’m telling you I’m not going.”
She stared at me, her mouth hanging open as I noticed that she had changed while I was gone, dressed in a classic black dress with a string of pearls at her neck. Her hair was down around her shoulders, soft golden curls framing her face. Well hell, where did this Sophie come from? She’d finally gotten herself a new outfit. One with no hint of frumpiness anywhere. She looked good enough to eat yet still extremely pissed off at me. Which made her even more attractive to look at.
“Your Highness, I know you are not Frederick,” she finally said tightly, almost through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of that. I am perfectly capable of seeing that and remembering.” She then turned and laid the tux on the back of the chair in front of the desk. I studied her soft curves, her behind encased tightly in that little black dress and felt a tug deep within my belly. I imagined what I would do to her if she was willing to obey me.
“Don’t move,” I whispered and took a step closer.
“What?” she said half turning, ignoring my command.
“I said don’t move.” This time the force of my tone kept her in place, facing away from me.
“Do I have something on me? Oh God, please don’t tell me there’s a spider in my hair.”
“Don’t worry, there isn’t,” I said as the tips of my fingers made contact with a few strands. Her hair was soft and smooth. And I stroked it, then let my hands slip down her spine as I moved closer, my mouth not far from her ear.
“Sir?” she asked, her voice breathless and totally unsure.
“Sophie, you’re here to help me, right?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then I want you to do something for me, ok?”
She didn’t respond but I could hear her breathing speed up.
“Bend over for me,” I whispered and put some light pressure on her back. I wanted to see her present herself to me, I wanted to pull up that dress, up and over her bottom and bury myself in her.
Sophie started to do as I’d requested, possibly just a reflex. She was used to taking orders without question. But suddenly she jerked to a stop, as if realising what she was about to do, then straightened back up. She slowly turned on her heels to face me, her expression unreadable. Yet there were two tell-tale circles of pink high upon her cheeks. She licked her bottom lip, then bit it as her eyes darted from just beneath my waistband and back up to my eyes.
“I’m not that kind of…” she said, trailing off as if she couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought.
“Not kind of what, Sophie? I thought you were here to help me.” I shifted my bodyweight forward, closing the gap between us even more, and her first instinct was to try and regain her personal space. But I filled that gap too. Over and over, she retreated and I advanced. Until there was nowhere else to go. The carpet under her feet had run out and she was trapped between my body and the polished wood panelling of the wall.
“I am here to help you, but not like this.”
“Really? Then why do you keep staring at my cock?”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at me. And right now I want you on your knees.”
Her chest rose and fell. She was almost hyperventilating. But she licked her lips again and I knew exactly what was going through her mind. It was just a case of her allowing herself to give into temptation.
“It’ll be our little secret,” I said and ran a finger down the side of her cheek, then trailed the tip over her bare lips. “Open,” I urged.
Her mouth parted, her eyes closed, and Sophie moaned as the tip of my fingers found the wetness of her tongue.
All of a sudden a sharp high-pitched trilling cut through the room. The noise was coming from Sophie’s hand. Her phone.
I cursed the damn thing as her eyes snapped open and she pushed me away hard, my finger popping out of her mouth, warm and coated with her saliva.
“You’re going to be late,” she said as if the last few moments had never occurred and silenced the ringing.
“Did you not hear me before? I’m not going.”
Her tone was even, controlled. Maybe too controlled. “Sir, you have to continue with Frederick’s duties. You don’t have a choice.”
“Get out,” I said in a low voice, done with this merry-go-round. If she wasn’t going take orders then she was no use to me.
Instead of running as I thought she would, it was Sophie’s turn to close the distance between us. She reached over and touched my arm briefly. “You aren’t the only one that lost Frederick, just remember that.”
I watched as she walked out, shutting the door softly behind her and closeting me in an office that wasn’t mine. I let out a breath, hanging my head. No one understood what I was going through. I was expected to jump right into Frederick’s place and carry on as if nothing had happened. I couldn’t do that. For one, Frederick and I had been vastly different people. And that couldn’t have been more clear to see that day as I watched peoples faces in the meetings I’d attended, and seeing the disappointment in their expression when they realised I was not a carbon copy; that I was a shadow version of him.
Glancing at the suit Sophie had left, I knew that the right thing for me to do was to get dressed and go to the damn museum. Suck it up and get on with it. But I hated doing what was right just because it was expected of me.
Sophie was going to be disappointed. But that was her loss. I could’ve rocked her prim little world if only she’d given into what she’d been clearly feeling.
I walked past the suit and out of the office ignoring Sophie’s calls, turning the corner to see my group of handlers waiting for me to arrive. “I’m going to get fucking drunk,” I told them. “I can either ditch your arses, and you know I can and will, or you can come join me and get hammered. Your choice.”
Pushing past them, I gave a little smirk as I walked down the hall. I knew they were going to follow. At least I had a ride to the club.
Eight
Sophie
He wasn’t coming. And I wasn’t too sure how I felt about that. I put my champagne flute down on a nearby table and paced the entrance.
One half of me was glad in a weird spiteful kind of way that he hadn’t turned up, never wanting to see him again. A mix of shame and embarrassment swirled together as I remembered that unexpected intimate moment in his office.
And yet the other half, admittedly the crazy and completely deranged side, longed to see him stride up those steps and bestow upon me a dazzling cocky smile. Excitement and a burning desire drowned out my lesser feelings. I’d never experienced a rush like that before; when he’d had his hands on me, caressing my back, wanting me to do things that I’d never even contemplated, not in my wildest dreams. Yet it was all I could think about now.
But I wasn’t there to help him in that way. I was a professional and if I let the lines become blurred I knew I’d be risking everything. Including my heart. Besides, I wouldn’t even know how or where to begin, even if I was willing and able. Everyone thought I was a buttoned up prude, and to be fair, they were right…
I stared out at the late arrivals pulling into the circular entrance. Hope fluttered in my belly. But it wasn’t any of Will’s cars, neither was it a chauffeur-driven vehicle from the Royal Mews. Instead, a man with a thinning carpet of salt and peppered hair stepped out alongside his much younger date, and I turned away with disappointment.
I’d been an idiot to think he would change his mind and do the right thing. Thinking he would have second thoughts, or that somehow I’d managed to get through to him and he’d and turn up fashionably late. But I was wrong on all accounts. It irritated me that he thought so little of his position and the people that were affected by his actions. My position was directly impacted, and the thought of letting the king down made my stomach fli
p-flop with dread.
With a sigh I pushed through the lingering crowds that hovered in the vestibule and found the chief organiser for the event, gave a lame-ass but believable excuse about His Royal Pain in my Butt for not being able to make it, then promptly left.
How was I going to make him a success if he kept refusing my advice and guidance at every turn? Thank goodness the other members of the royal family had not been invited to the event or my failure would’ve been reported back. I still had time to figure this out, to get him on the right track. I wasn’t going to give up that easily. I just needed to find him.
I hailed a black cab and climbed in, thinking of visiting the exclusive members club again that I knew for sure he’d frequented. I would start there and then check Durham House. Failing that I’d call the Royal Guard on his ass or MI6 if I had to… if he gave me no other choice.
Okay, so I wasn’t going to do that tempting as it was. That would just lead to more bad press and a fallout I did not want to experience or have to handle. Regardless, it was good to have the option and it made me feel better.
I gave the driver the address and settled back, watching as the city fly past. Periodically I pulled my phone out and tried his number. Predictably he didn’t pick up, and I got bored with leaving the same old voicemail time and time again. “It’s Sophie. Where are you? Call me, asap.”
He was ignoring me on purpose, and that just made what I was feeling ten times, no, a thousand times worse. I didn’t want to feel this way about Will, but the fluttering of my stomach when he was close just a few hours before told me that I was way more attracted to him than I wanted to be.
William was a dangerous kind of sexy. The kind of man I dreamed about at night but never had in my bed. But what was all that talk about wanting me to bend over? That was completely new to me. Exhilarating, though.
The cab pulled up in front of the club and I was forced to table my thoughts for another time. I paid the driver, climbed out and took a deep breath to steady my jumbled nerves.
Now what, Sophie? I asked myself. What was I doing here? Last time coming here didn’t work… What was I going to do to get him in line? I was nothing more than a secretary and he’d already proven he didn’t want to listen to me. I couldn’t order him about. Clearly my words held no sway.
But I couldn’t give up. It was in my blood to succeed and the last thing I wanted to do was fail.
Failure was not an option.
Straightening my shoulders, I walked into the reserved but dark entrance. The walls were upholstered with some kind of dark purple crushed velvet. Cushioned diamonds protruded outwards, like an old-fashioned headboard, and each button at the points sparkled. Ahead the same gatekeeper as the previous night stood his ground behind a black glossy desk. Above him two roaming cameras swung slowly from side to side.
If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought this was an entrance to some swanky, boutique hotel that charged you a small fortune for a place to rest your head for the night. And in a way I wasn’t wrong. They were plenty of rumours about what went on in this place, and there were definitely rooms upstairs, but I guessed they weren’t just for sleeping.
“Like I told you before, this place is for members only. And you Miss, are not a member.”
“But my boss is. And like I told you the last time, let me through or you’ll have to deal with His Majesty’s wrath. I need to see Prince William. And I need to see him now. You don’t want me causing a scene or calling in the cavalry do you?”
The little man groaned but continued to stare at me with dead eyes. That was the last thing he would want; a bunch of royal police bursting in and upsetting the clientele.
“I don’t have all night. Either go get him, bring him out here, or tell me where he is and I’ll go find him myself. Your choice.”
“Two seconds,” he said, picked up a phone and without taking his eyes off me pressed a button. After a few low mutterings, a back and forth conversation which I heard only one side of, the man plopped the handset down and rolled his eyes then pointed. “You have ten minutes. He’s in the back room. Follow the music.”
“Thanks,” I muttered absently and stepped through the door he’d pointed to. The corridor was narrow and long but it easily carried the dull thud of a low base. I followed the sound and with some surprise began to recognise the song. The voice however was a different matter.
Horrid singing, if you could call it that, squealed louder. And I was hit with a full screech as I made my way into the back room.
The medium sized room that could probably accommodate about fifty people sitting, was half full. The majority of those in attendance were women. Up on a small stage near the rear was a round of karaoke taking place. Drunken giggles reverberated over the speakers as two girls holding a mike attempted a rendition of an Aretha Franklin song.
Sitting at the intimate bar but facing the would-be singers, Will cradled a tumbler with an inch of amber liquid. Whisky or brandy was my best guess. Definitely not apple juice, that was for sure.
I was going to have to be someone else tonight, someone who had to try and understand what Will was running from, and took the empty barstool next to him.
“A scotch please, anything from the top shelf. He’s paying,” I said to the server. If you can’t beat them, join them.
Will looked over at me. “You found me then.”
“It wasn’t hard. First place I looked. You’re kinda predictable, you know?”
He let a smile slip past his lips. “Didn’t know you drank scotch.”
I shrugged as the server put the small glass in front of me, the strong smell tickling my nose. “I did the last time and I do tonight. Besides, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“No doubt.” He nodded to my glass and then raised his own. I hesitated at first but then clinked my glass against his. “Careful, it packs a punch,” he warned, but I’d already tipped its contents into my mouth. It was horrible but I managed to drain the glass, setting it back on the bar top.
“Easy there,” he said as I began to cough and splutter. “You’re supposed to sip it, savour it. Ah, fuck it.” He shook his head and knocked his back as well, his throat working as he swallowed. I tried not to notice the flutter in my stomach as I watched him up close, taking in every detail and handsome feature of his. There was more stubble along his jaw and a tiny crease that appeared when he smiled or winced.
“So,” he finally said, turning around on his stool. He set his glass on the bar top and signalled for a refill for the both of us. I swivelled around to face him. “Why are you here? Have you come to talk about my inappropriate behaviour earlier? Or maybe you decided you wanted more… No? Then I guess it’s work related. Oh, joy. You want to know why I didn’t show up tonight, right?”
“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” I answered as the bartender refilled my glass. I could feel the warmth swirl of liquid in my stomach now, spreading throughout my limbs and I just hoped I didn’t make a fool out of myself in front of anyone, including my boss. “Do you care to share?”
He sighed and drummed his fingers on the bar top. “Do you know what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Sophie?”
I thought about his question for a minute before answering. “The first time I applied for the position at the palace I was a nervous wreck. I believe I threw up more that morning than I had my entire life.” Realising what I had just admitted, my cheeks grew hot. Why was I telling him this story? It had to be one of my most embarrassing moments, and yet the words kept on coming. “I got through the first phases of interview but the last one was with His Majesty. My mum had tried to prepare me as much as she could, asking me all sorts of questions that we thought he would want to know the answers to.”
“It must have gone well,” Will replied, “You obviously got the job.”
I shook my head, a little laugh escaping. “Actually, do you know what question he asked me?”
“No?”
“What my favourite hobby was.”
“And what is your favourite hobby, Sophie?”
I shrugged. “It was supposed to be an ice breaker question to make me more comfortable yet I froze. I couldn’t think of anything I liked to do in my spare time; my mind raced through all of the answers I had prepared to give but that one. Then, I had a panic attack in front of your father.”
Will chuckled, looking over at me. “No you did not.”
I gave him a little smile, the memory now less painful than it had been that day. “Yes, I did. I believe he keeps paper bags in his office drawer to this day because of that little meltdown. It was the absolute worst day of my life and after making a complete fool of myself, I knew there was no chance of me getting the position. I went home thoroughly defeated.”
“But there’s a happy end to this tale, right?”
“I guess so. Once I got my wits about me I begged for a second chance. Another interview. And somehow I was called back for another go around, and got the job. Your father said I had something he rarely saw in others when they are around the royal family.”
“What was that?” Will asked, looking genuinely interested in my story now.
“I was real, and I wasn’t afraid to fight,” I said, a smile on my face as I thought about that conversation. “I was myself. He said that others had tried to impress them, yet I was the only one that had made a true impression. He also said he liked giving people second chances…”
William was silent for a moment and I took the opportunity to throw back the scotch, the burn not as bad the second time around. Actually it was quite pleasant once you got past the hellfire and smoke.
“You’re very good at what you do,” he finally said, his eyes on his glass. “And I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now.”
I laughed, motioning for another glass. “I’m not stuck with you. You’re, what shall we say, definitely a challenge.”
Royal Master Page 8