"Hiyeeee!!" came a squeaky voice.
Christy came bounding over, drunk as a skunk with a cocktail in one hand and a pink flag with the word ‘bride’ emblazoned on it in the other.
"What are you guys up to?" she asked, standing in the middle of us, oblivious to the drama unfolding around her.
And just like that, the anger in the air dissipated and everyone forgot about us.
"Adam was just leaving," I told her.
She was goggle-eyed already and stank of tobacco mixed with a liberal splash of Chanel No. 5 and rum.
" Adam, you're such a party pooper," she laughed, giving him a playful smack on the head with her flag. "Come on, go hang out with Josh."
"Actually, Lizzie and I were just-"
"Yep, that's it. Head on over to Josh. He'll get you a beer."
Before he could protest, she was shoving him down the length of the bar, and he had no choice but to do as he was told.
"Thank God he's gone," I said. "I thought he was never going to leave."
"He would have eventually," said Phil, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "I won't let him get close to you like that again."
“That's sweet of you,” I said. “But I can look after myself.”
Philip
“Hey,” I said, watching the sun rise as I peeled back the bed covers.
“Hey.”
“What you up to?”
“Dying of a hangover,” she said. “You?”
“Same. I was thinking of going for a run. Care to join me?”
“A run in this heat? My God, you're insane.”
The sound of her yawning crackled in my ear. I imagined her rolling over in bed, nude beneath the bedsheets as the tropical Caribbean sun descended on her face. I leaned onto my phone and closed my eyes so I could pretend she was right beside me and not several floors below.
“I think it's outrageously unfair you let me go to bed alone last night,” I said.
“What were you going to do? Take me back to your penthouse and ravage me?”
“That was the plan.”
She yawned again. I imagined her stretched out across the bed like a kitten.
The night before, I had been on my best behaviour, laid off the heavy booze, charmed the pants off all her friends, and played bodyguard every time her asshole ex got too close. I at least thought that accounted for some sort of reward. But apparently not.
At the end of the night, after I escorted her to her room, all I'd been given was a quick kiss before she disappeared behind the door. She'd closed it on my face and not answered until I called for the second time this morning. Even now, I could still detect a sense of unease from her, like she was still keen on keeping her distance from me.
But why? There were times last night when she was all over me, and when she kissed me, she kissed me for real, like she meant it, like I was genuinely someone she wanted to be with. But then a moment later, she was pushing me away, making me think I stood no chance with her. I had no idea what to think. I sure as hell wasn’t used to putting forth this much effort to gain the attention of a woman. And it intrigued the fuck out of me.
“Are you sure I can't convince you to come for a run?”
“You couldn't pay me a million dollars to go for a run right now. This is one of the worst hangovers of my entire life. Never, and I mean never, let me drink that many Mimosas again.”
“I don't know, you're cute when you're drunk. Some girls get crazy, but you're funny.”
“Ugh, I don't feel cute right now. I think I'm gonna head into the shower.”
“Don't tease me with that image,” I moaned. “Are you sure I can't persuade you to join me?”
“Sorry. I've got so much to do. It's Christy's bachelorette party tonight and of course she wants everything to be as extravagant and over the top as possible.”
She was using her serious voice again, the one she used when she was in strict, wedding planning mode.
“Wanna know something weird about me?” I asked to lighten the mood.
“Sure, why not.”
“Okay, get this. I've never been to a bachelor party before.”
“Shut the front door.”
It was a peculiar confession to make, but it was true. Us royals knew how to party alright, but only in private. And bachelor parties? They were strictly forbidden. Not only were they seen to be uncouth and hedonistic, but they were, apparently, what the commoners did.
The night before Henry's wedding, he had to make an official announcement to the public then spend the rest of the night in the royal chapel. There were no strippers, shots, or hot wings for him.
“You aren’t serious,” laughed Lizzie. “You've gotta be joking.”
“I'm not. Seriously, where I come from, they're just not a big thing.”
“Yeah, where you come from,” she said. “You're a bit sketchy about that. Where is that tiny place you're from again?”
I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. The sun was shining through the window casting a rainbow on the ceiling. For a split-second, I imagined Lizzie above me, her body shrouded in a kaleidoscope of colors.
“Hey, you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”
“So, you're going to maintain the mystery a little while longer?”
For a moment, I wondered what would happen if I told her the truth about my life and who I really was. Would she even believe me? What would she think of me if she did? Deep down, I wanted to tell her, but then she would have to find out about all the mischief and madness that had sent me here, and then what would she think of me? Not to mention, I was under strict orders not to tell a soul about my whereabouts. I thought Lizzie was a great girl, but in a world where your safety is a matter of national security, I was raised to trust no one. Who knew who she could tell? A paparazzi? A terrorist?
“I'll call you back later,” I said. “My running shorts are calling.”
“Ok, I've changed my mind about getting up. Think I'll go back to sleep.”
“You're just desperate to dream about me in my running shorts.”
She giggled and suppressed a yawn.
“Catch you later,” she said, and hung up.
The phone dropped out of my hand leaving me with a feeling of warmth running through me. There was no sweeter sound than her laugh; nothing that could make me smile so much as just hearing her voice.
“What's happening to me?” I asked the ceiling.
The Philip that existed this time last week would have had his wicked way with her already and moved on. The old Philip would have forgotten about her already, but she was impossible to forget.
Lizzie had turned me into a new Philip, a guy who was desperate to please. She made me work for her attention, and my God was I working hard. I'd never lusted after a girl so much in my life and gotten so little in return.
My head was turned inside out, and I was feeling things for her I'd never felt for another girl. Below the sheets, I could feel myself grow hard again at the thought of her. Downstairs, she would be lying in bed just like me, spread out across the sheets with her tanned limbs begging to be stroked and kissed. I thought of running my lips up her thighs and sunk a hand down between my legs. Closing my eyes, I enveloped myself in a creamy, blissful heat and dreamed of her body against mine.
* * *
The sun was beating down on the parched ground scorching everything it touched. The sparse patches of grass were burned to scratchy pieces of straw and crunched beneath my sneakers as I ran.
Choosing the longest trail on the island, I climbed the long winding path around the Azoria Mountain. It was the kind of run that almost crippled you, but once you reached the top, you could swear you had reached Heaven. I had traveled all around the world but never seen a view as spectacular.
As I ran, I was aware of my chest starting to burn and slowed up. Why are you running like an old man? I asked myself. The last time you did this you'd sprinted to the
summit already. I made a silent vow to myself to lay back on the booze and spend more time in the gym.
I plowed on, reaching a steady rhythm, matching each foot fall with a labored breath. But just as I started picking up pace, my phone rang.
“Yep?”
“It's Stephen. Where are you?”
“Out for a run.”
“Without us? Your father's going to go crazy when he finds out you took off without security.”
“Just don't tell him,” I said.
“You know full well I have to report everything to him.”
I slowed to a halt and leaned against the nearby railing. Over the side of it was a vertical drop right down to the sea. On the other side of me, the mountain reached up to the sky, ancient, proud, and intimidating.
“Stephen, please. The last thing my father needs are more things to worry about. Just chill. I'll be back in a few hours. Nothing's gonna happen.”
“Sorry, Philip. I'm not leaving you alone. We're on our way already.”
Of course they were. They had my GPS location from my damn phone. “For Christ's sake, Stephen. Can I not get two freakin' minutes to myself?”
“No,” he replied, his voice as blunt and unfeeling as always. “We’ll see you in a bit.”
I considered turning off the GPS in my phone and heading out to a different location. I knew they guys were just doing their job, and normally I didn’t mind having them around as they didn’t really impede my fun most of the time, but a man needed some damn privacy once in a while.
HighnessI stretched out the soreness in my muscles, balancing on the railing as I looked out across the ocean. Breathing in the sea air, I stared down the mountain to where the hotel was nestled beside the harbor. Thoughts of Lizzie came to me. Her body pressed up next to mine, the two of us naked on an empty beach, sprawled out across the hot sand as the waves serenaded us.
Get a grip Phillip. You're like a teenager with his first crush.
I prepared myself to jog on, but just as I made my first step, something caught my attention. A feeling. A suspicion. It was the same way I felt back on the beach before the armed robber appeared. Danger crackled in the aire around me.
Yet as I looked around, I saw nothing and no one, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. I stood, holding my breath and straining my ears.
That's when I heard it.
Voices.
They were coming from around the curve of the mountain where the tree line thickened. My ears pricked up like a bloodhound hearing a fox.
Who is that?
I wouldn't have described myself as the nosy type, but something made me curious. The voices were hushed and conspiratorial, and they were far off the beaten track. Nobody came out here unless they were seasoned hikers and knew the area well. Somehow, I doubted I was going to be stumbling across a group of naive tourists.
Rounding the bend and stepping off the trail, part of me told myself to mind my own business, while the other half told me to carry on. Then another thought crossed my mind. What will my father say if his heir ends up dead because I couldn’t keep my nose out of it? My actions could potentially affect my whole country.Continuing around the bend I listened as the voices got louder, then louder still.
“Have you got the cash?” someone asked.
Their voice was gruff, threatening, like nothing else I'd ever heard on the island before. I crouched down and looked through the sparse leaves. A pair of feet came into view followed by a figure dressed all in black despite the searing heat. I caught sight of the wide gait and strong shoulder muscles. I had seen this figure before.
I had chased it.
Peeling back the foliage, I glimpsed the face, even rougher than the voice with deep pock marks and a scar snaking its way across the forehead. So that's what the bastard looked like behind the balaclava. I saw a gun strapped to his side, saw cheap, DIY sailor tattoos line the length of a beefy arm.
My heart beat faster. I had to know who this was. I was desperate to know what asshole thought it was okay to rob my island.
Standing up, I edged my way closer.
"Don't worry. I got the cash. Now we just gotta figure out where to hit next."
"We can't do the bar at the Royal again."
"I say we raid the penthouses next time. That's where the real money is."
It felt like my veins were filled with rocket fuel. All I wanted to do was sprint right at them and pummel them into the ground.
I crept even closer until I was only feet away from them and had to hold my breath so they couldn't hear me. I pulled back the last branch that protected me from them, eager to get a closer look.
And that's when I saw it.
The camp.
Makeshift shanty houses built all crooked across the landscape, hidden beneath the trees. There must have been a dozen of them. The remains of a fire smoldered in the center surrounded by animal bones and empty tins of beans.
The assholes are living out here? What the hell is going on?
I listened closer, attempting to stay as still as possible although I wanted to lunge right at them.
"We gotta be careful," came the gruff voice. "I was nearly caught the last time. That dude in the board shorts was fast."
"That dude in the board shorts can kiss my ass. He ain't no match for a gun."
Beside me, my hands clenched themselves into fists. My knuckles turning white as all the blood pumped into my limbs. I was ready for a fight; one I had to win.
"It's cool. Richard has our back," said the other guy. "He ain't let us down yet."
"I don't trust that guy."
"Yeah, me neither. But he's doing his job so far. He's on our side."
"Don't feel right, though. Pirates aren't supposed to do business with civilians. Let alone some douchebag in a suit like that bar manager."
I didn't know what hit me the hardest, the word pirate, or the name Richard.
Richard the bar manager. That's who they were talking about, wasn't it? Who else could it be?
What the fuck? I thought to myself. This can't be happening.
I looked once again at the shanty huts. They were all empty while their inhabitants did fuck knows what across the island. Did I really hear right? Could there really be pirates living up here? And more to the point, why the hell hadn't Stephen and the team scoured the island before my arrival and found them?
Creeping even closer, I tried make sense of it all. This can't be right, I thought. This is the kinda crazy shit that only happens in movies.
Edging my way closer, I tried to get a better look.
"Hey, you hear something?" asked the gruff voice.
"Yeah, I swear I heard footsteps."
"Probably just an animal."
"Nah, there ain't much wildlife up here apart from the monkeys and as far as I know, they don't wear shoes."
Shit, they heard me. What now? There's no way in hell I'm turning and running.
"Think it's one of the guys coming back?"
"They're been sent on special business. They won't be back until they're finished."
They both laughed, deep belly chortles that came from their smoky bowels. I couldn't take it any longer. Everything about them was telling me to run, to seek help and call the authorities. But on this island, I was the authority. This was my fucking island! And I never ran from anyone.
I strode out through the trees right at them. They flinched at my arrival but didn't budge.
"Who's this fucker?" asked the gruff one with the scar.
Up close, he was even uglier. As he spoke, his mouth spread to reveal gold teeth. Gold he had no doubt stolen.
"I'm the fucker that owns this island," I said, and before he could reply, I punched him hard in the throat, just the once and with just enough force to startle him. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, gasping as he struggled to speak.
As he staggered around, dazed, I took my opportunity and landed an uppercut straight to his lower jaw. I was
no professional boxer, but I'd trained in self-defense with the best and had learned one vital fact I never thought I would have to put into practice. It only takes five pounds of pressure to the lower jaw to flatten a guy.
He went down like a sack of potatoes, landing in the bushes with a thud and a crash.
His friend looked from the ground, to me, then back to the ground again before moving his hand round to his side where his gun lay. He would have killed me right then without blinking if I didn't think fast.
I leaped at him, hooking my foot around the back of his knee so he lost his balance and toppled to the ground. For a second, he lay on his back, stunned like an upturned turtle, and I didn't waste a single second.
The first thing I did was grab his gun and hurl it as far as I could down the mountain face. The next thing I did was punch him one last time right in the eye. He looked up at me, shocked and confused for fleeting moment, then went out like a light.
The two of them lay unconscious at my feet, and I took the opportunity to make sure they wouldn't kill me when they woke up.
Straddling them one at a time, I unfastened their belts, rolled them over onto their stomachs and hog tied them, wrists to ankles.
Then I made the call I wish I didn't have to.
"Stephen, how close are you?"
* * *
Stephen was mad as hell, but what was he going to do? He remained silent all the way back to the hotel once the police had arrived to clear the pirate camp.
“We'll be staying close to you,” said one of the detectives, a guy that still looked like a boy with puppy fat squidging out his cheeks.
“I'd appreciate that,” I told him. “These guys have been robbing the hotel left right and center.
Stephen and I stood in the foyer now as the team headed for the bar.
“May I speak freely, Your Highness?”
“When have I ever let you not speak freely?”
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