Royal Disaster #2

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Royal Disaster #2 Page 1

by Ember Casey




  Royal Disaster 2

  Ember Casey

  Renna Peak

  Casey Peak Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: November, 2017

  Contents

  Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

  1. Pax

  2. Sophia

  3. Pax

  4. Sophia

  5. Pax

  6. Sophia

  7. Pax

  8. Sophia

  9. Pax

  10. Sophia

  11. Pax

  12. Sophia

  13. Pax

  14. Sophia

  15. Pax

  16. Sophia

  17. Pax

  18. Sophia

  19. Pax

  20. Sophia

  21. Pax

  22. Sophia

  23. Pax

  24. Sophia

  25. Pax

  26. Sophia

  27. Pax

  28. Sophia

  29. Pax

  Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

  Also by Renna Peak

  Also by Ember Casey

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  Character Interviews

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  Pax

  I can’t believe I just asked Sophia to come on tour with me.

  I can tell by the look on her face that I actually said the words out loud, that it wasn’t some sort of lust-fueled fever dream. I fucking asked her to go on tour with me. Like some sort of needy chump.

  I’ve never done anything like this before. Normally I don’t want or even need to—if I’m ever in the mood to bang a chick while we’re touring, there are plenty at our concerts who are more than willing to jump into my bed.

  But I don’t want them. I want Sophia. I thought another night with her would be enough, that I’d get her out of my system, but I was wrong. I’m not ready to let her go yet.

  Judging by the way she was trying to sneak out of here, though, I wonder if she feels the same way. And she still hasn’t answered my question.

  “So?” I say casually, leaning against the doorframe. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that I’m still buck naked, but I pretend not to care. “You want to come or not?”

  She raises an eyebrow. “You definitely know how to woo a girl, don’t you?”

  “I’m not—” I drag a frustrated hand through my hair. “This isn’t coming out right.”

  “So how do you want it to come out?” she asks. She doesn’t look annoyed anymore, just amused at how frazzled I am. “Because from where I’m standing, I can’t tell if you actually want me to come along or not. You’re the one who kept saying this was a one-time thing.”

  “Maybe I changed my mind.”

  “Did you really?” she steps closer to me, her eyes bright with challenge. “Then I want to hear it.”

  I frown. “Hear what?”

  “I want you to say out loud that you want me to come on tour with you.”

  “I already asked—”

  “Asking me if I want to go is not the same thing as telling me that you want me there.” She smiles. “So what is it? What do you want?”

  When she looks at me like that—with a wicked gleam in her eyes and her grin bringing out that dimple on her cheek, it’s hard to think straight. I clear my throat. I don’t usually have to ask women for anything, let alone let them tease me like this. But I’m in too far to back down now.

  “I want you there,” I tell her in a growl. “There, are you happy?”

  She laughs. “Don’t sound so excited about it.”

  Excited? I’ll show her excited. I grab her and pull her hard against my body, pressing my bare skin along the length of her. My hand goes to the back of her neck, pulling her face toward mine.

  “I want you there,” I murmur. “Because I want to fuck you every night on the road. And every morning. And sometimes in the afternoon.” I move my lips to her ear. “First thing every day, I’m going to make you come for me. And every night, we’re going to try a new position until I find the one that makes you scream. What do you say to that, Princess?”

  I brush my lips against her skin, and she shivers against me. After a moment, though, she pulls away.

  “That sounds like fun,” she says lightly. “But I really should be going.”

  “You’re leaving?” I’m hard as a rock again—and in my naked state it’s plain to see—and she’s walking away like we just met for fucking brunch or something.

  “I have things to do,” she says with a shrug. “Princess duties and such.”

  “What…what sort of princess duties?”

  “Very important ones,” she tells me. “I’ll think about your offer, though.”

  I blink at her, disbelieving. “You’re going to make me wait for an answer?”

  “Patience is a virtue,” she says, still grinning. “Besides, it’ll give you the chance to decide if this is what you really want. You don’t want someone weighing you down while you’re on your big tour.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. I know your type.” She presses the elevator button again. “Tell Mick I’m sorry I can’t make it to that dinner reservation tonight.”

  I can’t believe this—she’s really walking away? After that amazing night we just had? And after me inviting her along on tour? This is insane.

  When the elevator arrives, I nearly lunge in after her. I catch myself at the doors, though, remembering I’m still completely naked.

  “I’ll call you,” she says, her eyes twinkling as she presses the button for the lobby. “Goodbye, Pax.”

  Before I can think of how to respond, the elevator closes, and I find myself staring at the closed doors, wondering what the hell just happened. Did I just get rejected? Is that what this feeling is?

  Either way, one thing is certain—I’m going to figure out how to get her on that tour with me, no matter what it takes.

  Sophia

  It takes forever to get to the lobby. The elevator stops at every floor, filling with people on their way to work, and I’m stuck in the corner in the back, wishing I had chosen to take the stairs.

  What the hell was that about, anyway? Pax has done nothing to make me think he wanted this to be anything more than a fling. So why would he ask me to go on tour with him?

  It had to have been a mistake. He wanted me to stay for his stupid dinner reservation—to get his publicity to build his European fan base or whatever. It must have just been a slip of his tongue when he asked me to join him on tour. I have no idea how long a tour is, anyway. A few weeks? A month? I suppose it would be an adventure in any case.

  Not the adventure for me, though. For now I need to take care of this business with my brother, Andrew. I suppose there have been more rumors in the past night about Pax and me—that’s the only explanation for why my eldest brother would be demanding my return home this instant.

  Part of me wants to skip the airport
altogether—to stay on the elevator and go back up to the penthouse to spend some more time with Pax. But the dutiful part knows I’m going to have to face Andrew at some point—and earlier is always better when it comes to being scolded by my family.

  The elevator finally, finally arrives at the lobby, and I wait to exit behind all the other people jammed on the thing.

  I take a quick look around the lobby—there was certainly enough time for Pax to have made it down here, but I don’t see him anywhere.

  He was naked…of course he wouldn’t have followed you here. I’m not sure why I even have the smallest of hopes that he did—my answer to him will still be the same, no matter what he says.

  I head for the concierge desk, meaning to call for a taxi, but someone grabs my arm.

  Judging by the way my body fails to light up at the touch I should know it isn’t Pax, but still, I can’t help but hope it’s him for the briefest of moments.

  I spin and recognize the person who’s grabbed me as Mick, Pax’s manager.

  “Long night?” He lifts a brow.

  I’m sure I look a mess, but it still seems rude to call me on it. I say nothing to him, only twist my arm from his grasp.

  I take another step toward the concierge desk, and his hand is on my arm again. “Sophia, wait.”

  “I can’t help you.” I motion at the exit. “And I need to be going. I have some family business to attend to.” It isn’t even a lie—Andrew will have my head on a platter if I’m not on the plane he’s chartered for me.

  “I’m sure it can wait.” He cocks his head. “You’re your own woman, aren’t you? You don’t have to do what your family says.”

  My gaze narrows. “How would you know what my family says?”

  He grins. “Your brother made it a point to contact me last night. I’m not sure how he got my number—”

  I can’t help but interrupt. “You’d be surprised at what my family is capable of.”

  “Maybe you can surprise yourself at what you’re capable of.” He seems to realize he’s still touching me, and he drops his hand. “This is important. What we have here.”

  “What we have here?” I arch a brow. “We have nothing here.”

  “You know what I mean.” He smiles. “Twisted Throne has been working for years for a break like this. And this is the perfect timing. And I already told you, I’ll make sure you get something out of it, too.”

  “I have no interest in becoming a spokesmodel. Isn’t that what you offered me last night?” I shake my head. “I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Whatever you want, then. A girl like you…” I’m not sure what the look he gives me means. “You’ll be able to write your own ticket.”

  “I already have a ticket.” I take a step away from him. “I was born with it. I don’t need anything you might want to give me.”

  “Oh, really? He closes the distance between us again. “You want to know what I think?”

  I shake my head again. “Not really.”

  “I think you want to distinguish yourself from your family. I think you want to make a name for yourself. You proved that last night, didn’t you?”

  I take another step back. “Pardon me, Mick, but you don’t know me at all.” And even if what he’s saying might strike some chord in me, I’m not going to let him guilt me into doing something I haven’t chosen to do myself.

  I stare at him for a moment. “I think… I’m going to be going now. I’m sure you can hire some other celebrity from Europe to have a fake relationship with Pax for your tour—”

  “Shh.” He glances around the lobby. “We don’t need that part of it getting out—”

  “Don’t need what getting out?” Pax seems to come out of nowhere, and he slides an arm around my waist. “What are you two talking about?”

  I glance at him—he’s thrown on a t-shirt and some pants. His skin is glistening—it looks like he ran all the way down the stairs after getting dressed.

  “We were discussing the terms of our arrangement.” The man smiles at Pax. “I was just asking Sophia to reconsider dinner with you tonight.”

  “I…” I look between the two men. “I appreciate the offer. I do. I just—”

  “You’ll go to dinner with him.” Mick gives me a look I can’t even describe—something between amusement and malice. “And you’ll tell us both why you made a sex tape last night with Pax.”

  Pax

  My manager’s a good guy, really he is, but sometimes I seriously want to kill him.

  “Mick, can we have a chat? Privately?” I growl. I grab his sleeve and pull him a few feet away—close enough for me to see if Sophia tries to get away again, but far enough that she can’t overhear us.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask in an angry whisper.

  “My job,” Mick says without blinking. “I don’t want this opportunity to slip through our fingers.”

  “You’re making it worse,” I tell him. “She’s not going for the whole publicity thing, in case that wasn’t obvious. What the fuck’s going on?” The guy is usually much better at reading people.

  Mick glances to the side and tugs absently at the side of his collar. I know that gesture.

  “What’s going on?” I ask again, a little gentler this time. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine,” he says, though he sounds a little defeated. “Good, even. Laura’s pregnant again.”

  “Mick! That’s great news,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “Emma’s going to be thrilled to have a little sister, and the boys—”

  “They’re excited, too,” he says. “But four kids… It’s been hard enough with three. And Laura’s been begging me to work less. To spend more time with the family. But I can’t do that, not if I need to support four kids…”

  I drop my hand. Mick’s been with Twisted Throne from the beginning, and I know he cares about our success for many reasons. But there are different things at stake for him than there are for me. Hell, if this album takes off like we hope, Mick can probably retire within the next couple of years if that’s what he wants.

  “Look, I understand where you’re coming from,” I tell him. “I get it. But trying to threaten a princess with some made up sex tape—”

  “What the hell are you talking about? It’s not made up,” he says. He whips his phone out of his pocket. “Damn notification woke me up at three in the morning.” He clicks on his messages and pulls up a video. I only have to see a couple of seconds—without sound, thank God—to recognize that it’s exactly what he claims it is. Sophia and me having sex.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” I demand, grabbing the phone out of his hand. I need to delete it. Immediately. I know sex tapes are all the rage among celebrities these days, but they’re not my style.

  “What do you mean? You sent it.” He pries the phone from my fingers.

  “I did not send that.”

  “Who else would have it?” he asks. He clicks on the sender’s email address, then frowns. “I don’t know who this is.”

  “You didn’t think to check the sender before accusing me of doing it?”

  “Like I said, who else would do it? It was the middle of the night and I was half asleep.” He’s still frowning at his phone. Suddenly, his head snaps up, and he looks sharply over at Sophia. “Was it you?”

  Sophia has been watching our exchange from several feet away—I’ve been keeping my eye on her this whole time in case she tried to bolt. In spite of my attempts to keep this conversation private, she’s clearly made out at least some of it. She comes closer, lowering her voice.

  “Why would I make a sex tape?” she demands in a hushed tone. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “I didn’t do it,” I say again.

  “Well, obviously one of you did,” Mick says. “Unless there was someone else in the room with you.”

  “Believe me, if there’d been a third person in there, they wouldn’t have been behind the camera,�
� I say.

  Sophia rolls her eyes at me, but surprisingly, she doesn’t accuse me of lying about the video.

  “Maybe there didn’t have to be a third person,” she says. “You had a laptop in your room.”

  “So?”

  “It was open on your desk. Laptops have webcams built in. I’ve heard of people accessing webcams remotely. Spying on people through their computers.” She crosses her arms. “It’s not uncommon for hackers to target celebrities. All they had to do was access your camera, turn it on, and wait to catch something good.” Her eyes fall on Mick’s phone. “And apparently they did.”

  “That’s insane,” I say.

  “But she’s right—it’s not out of the question,” Mick says. “We should go get that laptop.”

  I can’t believe this—someone’s been spying on me? A couple of years ago, I might have been excited to know that I was famous enough for someone to want to. Now? It just feels creepy. If I ever catch the bastard who’s doing this, I’ll wring his fucking neck.

  But I’m not the only one who’s been affected. When I look at Sophia, she still has her eyes locked on Mick’s phone in his hand.

  “Can I…see it?” she asks finally.

  Mick looks surprised, but hands his phone right over.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” I say. “We should go back up to my apartment.”

  Sophia hesitates, then nods. “That’s probably best.”

  The elevator ride up is an awkward one, to say the least. I’m grateful Sophia didn’t run off again, but I’m not sure where I stand with her. And I’m sure this sex tape isn’t going to help things. My head throbs. This was supposed to be a one-night stand. Just like any other. But now I’m standing here in an inside-out shirt enduring one of the most uncomfortable elevator rides in my life, and all because there’s something about this woman I just can’t shake.

 

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