Royally Crushed: A Crazy Royal Love, Book 1

by Summers, Melanie

  “Then I won’t.”

  We glance at each other for a moment, then at the exact same time, we both sing out, “I think we’re alone now.”

  Soon, we’re both laughing too hard to finish the song. And when the moment ends, I stare at her longer than I should, but find myself unable to tear my eyes away. A happy version of this pain-in-the-arse princess is sort of irresistible. “You're fun.”

  “And you’re surprised by that,” she says. “Of course I can be fun. Well, under the right circumstances, and in the appropriate setting.”

  “Ah, yes.” I put on a posh accent. “The hallmark of uninhibited fun—under the right circumstances and in the appropriate setting.”

  “Quite,” she says, lifting an imaginary tea cup with her pinky out.

  I laugh again, then give her an inquisitive look. “By any chance, did you lick one of the yellow frogs earlier when you went to the loo?”

  Arabella laughs, a full lovely sound that causes me to join her.

  Okay, Will, enough of the gazing at the beautiful princess. You can't have her, so forget about it.

  Needing to distract myself, I check the temperature of the salve, finding it just right. Scooping some onto my finger, I hold out my other hand. “Your foot, milady.”

  “Oh, no, it's fine. I'll do it. I haven't washed my feet, so they’re rather yucky at the moment.”

  “I have news for you. Every part of us is going to be ‘rather yucky’ until we get out of here,” I say. “That's just life in the bush. Now, I offer an all-inclusive service out here in the jungle—delicious warm meals, unlimited fresh larvae, and medical attention.”

  “All-inclusive? Hmm …” she says with a flirty smile.

  Oh wow, do I ever want to find out what she means by that. Instead, I force myself to get back to the matter at hand. “Give me your dainty little foot so I can fix you up.”

  She reluctantly lifts her foot and sets it down on my waiting palm, the weight of it giving me a hint as to how slight she really is. I switch the headlamp back on and get to work, fixing up her ankles and covering them with bandages.

  The fire starts to die down, and I see her yawn, then realize I’m a little disappointed that this evening is coming to an end. Huh. That’s weird. “We should get some sleep. It's been a long day.”

  She glances over at the tent, then at me, and I can't be sure, but it seems as though there is meaning in the expression she's giving me.

  No, that can’t be right. I’m just tired. But she did make the phrase all-inclusive sound a little dirty …

  Which is exactly why I have to sleep out here tonight.

  She blinks slowly. “I feel terrible taking the tent while you're out here.”

  Do not make eye contact. I glance up at the sky. “I actually prefer it out here under the stars.”

  “And with the brown recluse spiders and Wolverine frog and mosquitoes …”

  Is she trying to persuade me to join her? No. Bad, Will, bad. Do not go there. “I'll be fine. Maybe if I could keep my boots in the tent with you. That way if it rains, they'll be nice and dry for me.”

  I stand, and get my sleeping bag out of my backpack, then lay it next to the fire. “Do you know why I picked this spot for the night?”

  “Because of the water.”

  I nod. “Yes, but one of the benefits of being next to a river like this is that there's a break in the trees so you can see all the stars up there.”

  Arabella leans back and stares up at the night sky. “Well, that is incredible,” she whispers.

  “Right?” I say, laying back.

  “I mean, I knew there were millions of them, but the sky isn't even black. It’s absolutely filled with twinkling lights,” she says. “Hold on a second.”

  Arabella gets up and unzips the tent, then pulls out her sleeping bag. She sets it down near mine and lays on it. “I'm not ready to sleep just yet. I want to stare at this until I know I'll never forget it.”

  “It's amazing, isn't it?” I ask with a happy sigh. “People go their whole lives without seeing the Earth and the sky for what they really are. They just stay stuck in their boxes from the moment they are born until they die.”

  “I’ve spent my entire life in a box. A very grand, luxurious, safe box,” she says quietly.

  Glancing at her, I say, “Is that why you came, Arabella? Because you can't stand being confined anymore?”

  She nods, turning her head to me. “I needed to get out. I felt like … I might …”

  “Die if you didn’t?”

  Nodding again, she says, “I know it sounds horribly ungrateful. For someone like me to feel any sort of discontentment when my life is one of incredible privilege.”

  “Not to me, it doesn’t,” I say, turning onto my side to face her. “To me, your life sounds really sad.”

  “I don’t know if it’s sad,” she answers, turning her body toward me. “But it comes with a list of dos and don'ts that could fill up that whole night sky.”

  I stare at her, trying not to memorize her beautiful face. “How did you convince them to let you do this?”

  “I didn't.” She shuts her eyes tightly. “I approached Kira Taylor in private, then I had to sneak out of the palace without my security following me.”

  My mouth drops in shock. “Are you serious?”

  Arabella nods. “My grandmother plays poker once a month with the guys who work in the garage. One of them is into her for a lot of money, so I was able to offer him a nice wad of cash to hide me in the boot of his car and take me straight to the airport.”

  “Okay, can I just say how impressed I am?”

  “You may,” she says in a regal tone. Her smile fades, replaced by a worried expression. “I can't even imagine what's going on back home right now. I left overly sentimental handwritten notes for nearly everyone on staff and in the family.”

  “Just in case?”

  “That probably sounds silly to you.”

  “Nope. Life is really fucking short,” I say, thinking about my parents and Arabella's mother.

  “It is really fucking short,” she says. “You know something funny? You and I both lost people at a very early age, and we've both come to the conclusion that life is short, but the way we respond to that knowledge is completely opposite. I never risk anything, and you do nothing but risk everything.”

  I gaze into her eyes, and for an unexplainable reason, I find myself wanting to risk everything once again. She is so unexpectedly sweet, and vulnerable, and beautiful. Do not kiss her. Do not even think about it. I glance down at her full lips and then back up at her eyes. The sound of an owl hooting interrupts the moment.

  “If the owls are out, it must be late,” she says, biting her bottom lip.

  “We should get some rest.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my entire body grows furious with me for saying them.

  Not tonight. Not ever.

  15

  Tiny Tents, Hot Men, and Other Things That Keep You Up at Night

  Arabella

  Why can't I sleep? I mean, really—why? I've been up since the crack of dawn, have had enough adrenaline flow through me today to revive ten patients in cardiac arrest, I've trekked what feels like a thousand kilometers on uneven terrain. Every muscle in my body is aching, and I am utterly exhausted. I should have fallen straight into a deep sleep. And yet, I'm laying here in this tiny tent, staring up at the fabric above me, listening to the babbling of the river, the hypnotic song of the cicadas, and the gentle snoring coming from just outside the tent (which I must say I find oddly comforting).

  And I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, you’re wrong. I’m not awake because of the man making those comforting snoring sounds, or because I’ve never felt as safe in my life as I do with him—especially the bit where he held me while I fell apart like a complete baby. Seriously, it's got nothing to do with him and everything to do with me knowing that back home, my family, as well as most likely the media, are freaking out wonde
ring what the hell has gotten into me. My father must be through-the-roof mad. And Arthur is going to be furious with me, not that I care.

  All right, fine. I do care. And it’s killing me to know I’ve upset everyone like this. It feels absolutely selfish for me to have runaway from my duties and the people who love me most.

  Good God, Arabella, just close your eyes and go to sleep already. There’s nothing you can do to fix any of it. Not from here. The only thing you can do is get out of this jungle as quickly as possible, so you can go home and make everything okay again.

  Sigh.

  .

  .

  .

  Sigh again.

  Okay, but first, I do have to get a few things off my chest. There’s no denying that he’s absolutely gorgeous, and he smelled quite yummy even though he was wearing bug repellent and was all sweaty when he was hugging me. Also, he said that really sweet thing about how cute my toes are. That was definitely knicker-melting. Plus, he turned the cameras off for me.

  I mean, he was totally a dismissive dickhead earlier in the day, but I'm not sure I can blame him. Imagine what a threat I must be? After all, Dylan did say she was going to rename the program so it’ll be about me. That must have stung, no? Plus, he wasn't wrong about the fact that I don't have the first clue what I'm doing out here, and it's entirely possible I'll get us both into some kind of scrape and we'll end up dead. So, I suppose he had reason to be a bit snippy.

  Anyway, back to me not sleeping. The fact that I find him attractive beyond what I have ever felt in my life has nothing to do with me lying awake. It's really just all the other things. I'm definitely not thinking about unzipping this tent and crawling into his sleeping bag with him. Because that would be wrong. That would make me the skanky ho that awful blogger was worried about. Well, not really. I'm judging myself rather harshly, aren't I? I can have sex with an available, single, interested man. That’s totally fine in this day and age.

  Just not that man. First of all, how do I know he’s interested? Just because he kept glancing at my lips, it doesn’t mean he wants to kiss them. So there’s that. Besides, we're not meant for each other. There is absolutely no way a relationship with him would work in the long term. Short term out here in the wild where no one would be the wiser, however …

  Nope!

  I'm out here to test my resolve—not only out here in nature, but my resolve about not becoming physically or romantically involved with someone who is entirely wrong for me. Someone totally sweet who made us dinner, then prepared a warm salve for my ankles, which, I do have to say is making them feel so much better. Someone who’s also such a gentleman that he's outside, possibly being feasted on by mosquitoes, while I sleep in this comfy tent. Although, if I'm going to be completely honest, I do miss having a pillow and my Tempur-Pedic mattress.

  Oh God, I do fancy him! Shit. Okay, that's it. First thing tomorrow morning, I'm just going to pull it together. No more crying, no more gagging when presented with beetle larvae for lunch. I am just going to woman up, stop whining, and let the inner Xena, Warrior Princess in me come out for the first time ever. Yes, that's it. No flirting, no more being a girly girl. I'm going to earn his respect and the respect of everyone else I know because that is what I’m here to do. I’m not here for love. I’m here for respect.

  So, I will not shag him.

  Ever. No matter what.

  Even if it would be amazing and no one would find out.

  No shagging.

  None.

  Not even a little.

  Go to sleep.

  * * *

  ABN Morning Newscast – Friday, April 17th

  “Good morning, I'm Veronica Platt with the ABN news desk. Our top story this morning is the mystery of the missing princess. Rumblings have been heard throughout the city of Valcourt over the last two days as Princess Arabella has begged off all of her obligations with no explanation. Silence from the palace as she's left twenty-eight charities wondering where their patron is. Giles Bigly is on scene in front of the palace this morning. Giles, what can you tell us about this shocking situation?”

  The screen splits in half, and Giles Bigly fills the right side, standing under an umbrella as rain beats down around him. Instead of looking at the camera, he’s talking to someone out of the shot. “… because they’re a bunch of bloody sadists, that’s why.” Pause. “There is no good reason to have us out here when it’s pissing down like this. I could have just as easily done this in the studio. You can’t even see the bloody palace behind me for all the rain.”

  “Giles! It’s Veronica! Can you hear me?” she yells.

  Turning to the camera, Giles lifts his microphone. “Yes, I’m here, Veronica. You’ll have to speak up. The pounding rain is competing with your voice.”

  “Righto. Giles, what have you learned about Princess Arabella’s disappearance?”

  “Not much, Veronica. Palace officials are remaining tight-lipped as to her whereabouts. My sources at the hospital have indicated there’s no sign of her at their facilities, so it's unlikely that she has taken ill.”

  “Thank goodness for that, at least. Could it potentially be some sort of a mental breakdown?” Veronica asks. “After all, she is so much like her mother and her mother definitely had difficulty keeping up with her obligations before her untimely death.”

  Giles glares at the camera, barely hiding his disdain. “It's hard to say. For all we know, she’s got a touch of a flu or some injury—she does a ballet workout every morning, so maybe she pulled a hamstring or tore a ligament. What we do know is that, up until this point, Princess Arabella has always been a steady and reliable patron of all of her charities and her many foundations throughout the kingdom.”

  “Giles, would you say her reliability makes her sudden disappearance more alarming?” Veronica asks.

  “No, not really.”

  “You don’t think so?” Veronica says. “Her disappearance is extremely out of character. There’s some buzz around the nation about a possible kidnapping, although none of those rumours have been substantiated.”

  “I highly doubt it,” Giles answers. “I’d say the explanation is likely nothing of consequence and when we do find out why she’s taken a few days off, the whole thing will be rather anticlimactic, and certainly not worth having a seasoned journalist standing outside during this frigid rainstorm.”

  “But, let’s imagine for a moment she has been kidnapped. Would you have any idea who might have wanted to kidnap her?”

  “Nope. No clue, Veronica. What I do know is that spreading unsubstantiated rumours is not in keeping with any sort of journalistic integrity.”

  “So true,” Veronica answers with a firm nod. “I’d say it’s all the more reason for the palace to make some sort of statement.”

  “Indeed. That would put a stop to this nonsense.”

  “Exactly, Giles. Whatever they’re hiding, they really do need to come out with it.”

  “Again, there is likely nothing going on, Veronica. Other than a slow news day, that is.”

  Veronica shakes her head and purses her lips. “Well, let’s just hope wherever Princess Arabella is, she’ll return home safely.”

  “Okay, sure,” Giles answers, throwing his free hand up in the air.

  The feed cuts and Veronica’s face fills the screen. “That was Giles Bigly live on location in front of Valcourt Palace. Stay with us throughout the day as this alarming mystery unfolds. Coming up next, we’re going to meet a man who says his turtle is the reincarnation of Albert Einstein. That and more after a word from our sponsors.”

  16

  There’s a Thin Line Between Lust and Hate…

  Will

  I wake to the early morning chorus of birds, the thick, humid air, and a sense of panic. Yesterday was an absolute mind bender. I want her, I hate her, I feel sorry for her, I want her again, I think she wants me, then ‘Goodnight, William. Sleep well.’

  I fell asleep to the mantra of ‘you cannot h
ave her,’ and now, in the early morning light, I’m even more sure about that. But damn, do I ever want her, which is why I’m going to get us the hell out of this jungle in under four days. And that’s a promise. Any more than that, and … well, I don’t even want to think about what could happen, but I know it’ll be really bad. But also, sssooooo good. So very, very good. Which is why I’m determined to return a certain princess to Mbambole before I end up making a disastrous error, like letting the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing get in the way of my life.

  Her tent is still zipped shut, which is good. She’s probably exhausted from yesterday’s trek, and to be honest, I could use some time alone to get my head on straight. I stand and quickly roll up my sleeping bag, then brush my teeth for much longer than normal (for no particular reason).

  Taking my GoPro, I walk over to the spot where I left our water bottles last night and turn on the video camera. “One of the best ways to get fresh water when you're out in a rainforest is to use the natural humidity in the air and a big leaf to collect the water for you. Last night, I set up our water bottles under this banana leaf. By now, they should be full.”

  I check the bottles and smile at the lens. “And it worked again.”

  I shut off the camera and mutter, “That did sound smug. Huh.”

  “But not overly so,” Arabella says, scaring the hell out of me.

  I start, then turn to her with a sheepish expression. “I thought you were still asleep.”

  “Got up early to collect some breakfast,” she says, already looking lovely, with her hair up in a ponytail.

  I glance down to her arms and see she’s carrying a bunch of bananas and some oranges. “I see you did some early morning foraging.”

  “I thought it only fair since you provided supper. It’s not larvae, but it’ll have to do.”

  Grinning at her, I say, “We can always find some bugs to eat along the way, Your Highness.”