Royally Wild (Crazy Royal Love Romantic Comedy Book 2)

by Melanie Summers

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely positive. I’d remember you,” I say, bouncing my leg with nervous energy.

  Oh bollocks, she’s driving ten clicks under the speed limit. I’m pretty sure I could walk faster than this. Well, obviously that’s not true, but I am filled with regret for not getting in one of those yellow cabs parked out front.

  “So, what brings you to the palace?”

  I try to find a way to tell her I’d rather not talk about it, but instead, for some reason, I find myself launching into the entire story, telling her about the promise I made to Arabella about never going to a ball alone again, and how I’d inadvertently treated her like a child after going off with Kenneth Abernathy in search of fame and fortune. When I’m finished, I feel like a total arse and yet somehow slightly unburdened of my fears. “So, what do you think? Do you think she’ll take me back?”

  “She’d be a fool not to,” Peggy says with a firm nod. “I’m sure as soon as she sees you, she’ll change her mind and the two of you will live happily-ever-after.” She pauses for a second, then yells, “Yes! I just knew if I started driving an Uber that I’d be part of something thrilling someday! You know what? Speed limits be damned. This is a time for breaking the rules!”

  With that, she hits the pedal hard, causing the car to accelerate at a pace so slow, it’s almost impossible to tell. She makes a whooping sound, then yells, “Andiamo! I’ve always wanted to say that.”

  I grin, glad that I told her everything because now that she’s hit top speed, Peggy is weaving in and out of traffic like her life depends on it.

  “Now, my only question is, how are we going to get past the front gates?”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” I say, my heart dropping into my stomach.

  “I’ve got a few ideas for how to get us past the guards. Number one: I could put my coat under my shirt and pretend I’m about to have a baby. Men never know what to do in that situation, and they pretty much let you have whatever you want. Also, I’m a part-time doula, so I can do a pretty good imitation of a woman in advanced labour.” With that, she starts breathing loudly and bending forward, screwing up her face as though she’s in a great deal of pain. She stops suddenly and glances back at me with a grin. “Pretty good, right?”

  “Brilliant, yes,” I say, now wishing I had not told her anything. “But, perhaps we’ll just keep it simple and see if I’m on the list.”

  “Oh, okay then,” she says, looking disappointed. “But if you’re not, we’re totally going with the labour thing, yes?”

  “By that time, they might be on to us.”

  “Righto…” she says, turning left onto the Langdon Bridge.

  There’s a long line-up of cars moving slowly down the road and it takes several minutes to get to the guard house. She rolls down the window and says in a very posh accent, “I have a Mr. William Banks here for Princess Arabella.”

  The guard bends down and gives me a dirty look.

  I smile at him through the open window and give him a small wave. “Remember me?”

  “Cheap cognac,” he says. “I’ll check and see if you’re on tonight’s list.”

  “I’m probably not, to be honest,” I say, “But that’s only because I was meant to be going out of the country tonight. But I do know Princess Arabella will want to—”

  “You’re on the list,” he says. “But as the Princess Dowager’s guest. Go on ahead.”

  My heart pounds in my chest and my hands feel clammy, so I wipe them on the front of my pants. They leave embarrassing wet streaks on the navy-blue nylon. Of course they do. That’ll definitely add to the hiking boots and puffy vest look. As we near the palace, I see the cars ahead of us letting well-heeled couples out, one at a time, then pulling away while their passengers start up the tall stone steps dressed in gowns and tuxedos with tails.

  “Well, this is quite the to-do,” Peggy says. “You don’t happen to have a suit in your bag, do you?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Do you want me to stick around and wait for you in case things don’t work out?” she asks as we pull up in front of the palace steps.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be just fine.”

  “Okay, suit yourself. But please make sure you leave me a five-star review and don’t forget to mention that I did offer you water and your choice of music.”

  “Thanks, will do, but perhaps not at this exact moment,” I say as I burst out of the car (which looks a lot more like a grown man struggling to climb out of a tiny green box), and take the steps two at a time, only to discover that sprinting in this situation is not the best idea I’ve had. Apparently, when one runs toward a palace, one finds himself surrounded by guards in short order.

  “I’m on the list,” I say as four of them descend upon me. “I’m a guest of the Princess Dowager. Will Banks.”

  “Oh, you,” one of them says with a nod. “We haven’t seen you around here for a while, have we?”

  “Yes, well, I’ve been… actually it’s really none of your business, is it?”

  He shrugs, looking offended, then gestures for me to go inside.

  I follow the crowd to the ballroom, and when I get there, I realize this is going to be much more difficult than I thought because it’s packed with at least a thousand people. I stay close to the back wall and walk the width of the room, keeping my eyes peeled for her, trying to guess what she might be wearing.

  Come on, Belle. Where are you?

  I feel a tap on my upper arm, and I turn, my heart in my throat, hoping it’s her. But no one is there.

  “Down here,” the Princess Dowager says.

  God, she’s tiny. “Your Highness,” I say with a formal bow. “Thank you so much for putting me on your list. You don’t happen to know where Arabella is, do you? I really need to see her.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “She’s probably at the airport by now. She went to find you.”

  My heart jumps with pure joy. “Really? She went to find me?”

  “Christ, you young people are ridiculous, missing each other like this. There’s this little device called a mobile phone, you know. You can place calls on it, or even send each other short written messages to indicate your whereabouts.”

  I laugh, then place both hands on her shoulders and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  With that, I turn and hurry out of the ballroom, hoping I can somehow find a way to catch a cab from here.

  A few moments later, I run down the steps of the palace—much easier, by the way—only to see Peggy’s Prius almost at the gates in the lineup of vehicles. I break into a sprint, taking my phone out of my pocket and calling her number.

  “Hello, Peggy here, Uber driver to the stars.”

  “Peggy, it’s Will. Arabella’s gone to the airport. Can you take me back there? I’m sprinting up behind you.”

  “Yes! I see you in my rearview mirror. Shall I pull off the road?”

  “No! I’ll catch up. You’ll only have to stop for a second to let me in.”

  With that, I hang up so I can pump both arms and run as fast as possible, startling people in several of the cars as I go. When I get to Peggy’s car, I open the door, even though she’s moving very slowly along the road. She stops the car and I start to get in the front seat, only to have her say, “It’s really so much safer for both of us if you get in the back.”

  Of course.

  36

  Rambling Airport Confessions and Second Chances

  Arabella

  Well, that’s that then. I’m too late. I got out of the limo just in time to see the plane lift into the night sky and disappear. You’re probably wondering how I could possibly know which flight he was on? Easy—it said Greenland Air on the side.

  Now, I’m sitting on a bench staring out at the dark runway with all its sad little blinking lights growing blurry through my tears. I blew it. He’s on his way to start his new life and maybe e
ven find someone else with whom to share it. And I’m left here to spend the rest of my days pining for a man who once loved me until I pushed him away.

  I shiver, wishing I’d brought a stole, because I’m not quite ready to get back in the warm limo and go back to the life I don’t want anymore, but I’m also freezing. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don’t bother to turn around. It’s probably Bellford carrying a jacket for me. I swallow hard, trying to force my face to suddenly look like I’m not crying.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  That’s not Bellford’s voice. My entire body reacts with a surge of joy. I look up and there he is.

  “Will,” I say, tears filling my eyes as I stand and turn to him. “I thought I was too late.”

  He stands on the opposite side of the bench, looking extra manly in his adventure man outfit. Smiling at me, he says, “I told them I’d meet them in a couple of days. I had something far more important to do here.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

  He steps around the bench without taking his eyes off me. “Well then, we’re perfect for each other, because I haven’t exactly been a real Einstein when it comes to our relationship.”

  I chuckle and smile up at him while he wipes the tears off my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I say, “I came back from Vienna all determined to chart my own course and to prove to myself I can be in charge of my own life, but then, for some stupid reason, I thought I had to do it alone, instead of trying to chart a course with the man I love. And I’ve spent these past weeks trying to convince myself I made the right decision, even though I knew I’d never be happy another day in my life, but then that thought seemed far too pathetic because I should be able to be happy without a man, shouldn’t I? So I did nothing until tonight, when it hit me that you were about to leave and I would have given up the only person I’d ever want to spend my life with.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand. “No, please let me finish because we haven’t gotten to the bit where I beg you to take me back. Except with some caveats, of course. Obviously, if this is going to work, I don’t want you to keep things from me or make decisions for me. And if you do mess up from time to time, I have to stop dumping you. What happened at the beach house was really more of a fight-it-out, have-amazing-make-up-sex-and-move-on sort of thing, not a stomp-on-your-heart-break-it-off-forever thing.”

  I pause and get caught up staring into his beautiful brown eyes for a moment. Just the sight of him so close takes my breath away. “God, but you’re gorgeous.”

  He grins down at me. “Belle, it’s—”

  “No, wait. I need to get this all out. I should have told you the truth weeks ago because the second I laid eyes on you at the studio for the finale, I knew I was never, ever, ever going to get over you. You were there looking so handsome and kind of sad even though you were pretending to be fine, and I should’ve just, I don’t know, kissed you hard on the mouth or told you I was still in love with you and begged you to give me another chance or—”

  He leans in and kisses me hard on the mouth while he pulls me to him and lifts me into the air.

  Oh wow.

  This is the most amazing starting-over kiss in the history of kisses. It’s filled with passion and promises and complete abandon, even though, technically, we’re in a public place. But it is an airport and airports tend to make people emotional.

  After a few delicious moments, I pull back, feeling absolutely wild with lust. “Wow, I forgot how incredible that is.”

  “I didn’t,” he says, smiling at me. “But before we go too far and get ourselves arrested, here’s what I think you need to know about me if we’re going to start over. I’m going to make mistakes from time to time. That’s inevitable because I’ve never built a life with anyone before. Once in a while, I might make a spur-of-the-moment decision and it won’t be the best choice or I’ll say the wrong thing, but I promise that I’m very good at learning from my mistakes. And if you don’t want to go Megxit, that’s okay. We’ll make this work. Really, we will. And I won’t let the money thing get in the way anymore because you’re right. It’s stupid to let something like having a bunch of money get in the way of happiness. Now, I am going to keep working because I love what I do, and I want you to keep doing meaningful work as well. But in between all of that, we’ll be together. And I promise to always, always treat you like my partner in life. You’re it for me, Belle. There’s no one else I’m ever going to want. Just feisty, fierce, elegant, sexy, lovely you. Nothing is ever going to change that. Even if you change your mind and dump me again and never take me back, I’ll still be loving you from afar. Or, if this works out, when we’re old and wrinkly and sitting in a restaurant arguing over which entrée to split, it’ll always be you for me.”

  My face screws up into an ugly cry and finally, when I feel like my heart is going to burst with happiness, I say, “God, you talk a lot. Can’t we get back to snogging?”

  He laughs and shakes his head, then leans in for a lingering kiss. “I’m in love with you, Arabella. And nothing will ever change that.”

  “Thank God, because I am so in love with you it makes me crazy and stupid and so happy.” We kiss again, and I’m just about to suggest we get a hotel room for the night, when I remember the gala I’m meant to be at. “By any chance, would you be my date for this evening? It turns out my gran stood me up.”

  “I’d love nothing more,” Will says, and I can tell by the look in his eyes, he means it.

  “Then let’s go.”

  We hold hands as we walk toward the parking lot where Bellford and Norm are waiting next to the limo. Oh, and apparently there’s a woman standing next to a green Prius who seems to be waving at Will.

  And for some reason, she has tears in her eyes. “I thought I’d wait around to see if you needed a ride,” she says. “You know, if things didn’t work out, but apparently they did because, wow, you two really made out a lot just now.”

  She glances at the limo. “Oh…you’re good, then.”

  Will smiles at her. “Yes, thank you, Peggy. I’ll make sure to give you a glowing review.”

  “Oh, that’s not why I waited, but thank you,” she says. She smiles at me. “He told me the whole story. He really loves you.”

  “I know. And I really love him.

  “Good. Happy ending and all that.” She nods, then says, “Oh, can I offer either of you a bottle of water for the road?”

  37

  If Cinderella Were a Super Buff, Crazy Hot Man…

  Will

  “So, is this as awful as you thought it would be?” Arabella asks as we hold each other. We’re on the dance floor while the orchestra is playing Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller.

  Oh, are you surprised I know that song? Well, don’t be. I have pretty refined tastes for an adrenaline junkie. Just look at the woman I fell for…

  “I can’t remember a better night,” I say, grinning down at her while we sway to the music.

  “Even though you had to borrow a tux from my brother?”

  “Even with that,” I say, although this tux is a bit tight, to be honest. “The truth is, after spending so many nights without you, I honestly don’t care where I am as long as you’re there.”

  “Aww, you liar,” she says.

  I dip her, and she squeals with delight. When I lift her back up, I say, “I’m serious. My life has no meaning without you.”

  “You are so getting lucky tonight.”

  Pulling her close to me, I whisper into her ear, “I knew getting off that plane was a smart move.”

  She turns her face so our mouths line up and brushes her lips against mine. That turns into a kiss that is not exactly suitable for a gala.

  I feel a tap on the shoulder and hear an “Ahem!”

  I pull back quickly, only to see Arthur and Tessa dancing next to us. He’s got a stern expression on his face, but his eyes are filled with amusement. “There are over five hund
red bedrooms in this palace. Find one.”

  Arabella and I laugh while my face heats up with embarrassment.

  She reaches out and pinches Arthur’s cheek. “You better get used to it because Will is here to stay. Or, come and go as his career allows. Or we’ll both be coming and going together. We haven’t figured it all out yet, but one thing’s sure, we’re figuring it out together.”

  “Good for you,” Tessa says, smiling at us.

  “Yes, he is good for me,” Arabella answers, grinning up at me.

  “I’m just glad you finally realized it,” I say, earning a mock-irritated look from Arabella.

  “So am I,” Arthur adds. “There are probably only a handful of men on this planet that might qualify to be good enough for my sister, but I’m glad she found you instead.”

  We all laugh, and Tessa slaps him on the arm. “What he meant to say is he’s thrilled to welcome you to the family.”

  A wave of relief comes over me at her words. I want to pull her in for a massive hug, but instead, I say, “How did your photo go with those lesser British monarchs?”

  She and Arthur exchange irritated looks, then she says, “The official photo released has the boys in front on tall stools and the two of us behind them so the only bits of me that are visible are my face, my shoulders, and one arm.”

  “Are you serious? After all that?” Arabella asks.

  Tessa nods. “We drove straight to Krispy Kreme when we landed.”

  The four of us laugh, and I have to say, it feels amazing to share a moment like this.

  Tessa points at me. “You’re so lucky. You won’t have to put up with that shit.” She turns to Arabella and they both say, “Men,” at the same time.

  “Save it for man-bash Mondays,” Arthur says. He glances back and forth between Arabella and me. “And you two, go find a room before you embarrass the family with all that awful PDA.”