The Crown Jewels (10 page)

None of those things mattered one iota.

What mattered was staying away from him as much as I could. What mattered was avoiding those eyes of his as well as the constant barrage of assaulting images that bombarded my head when he was in the same room.

What mattered was my father’s happiness, the very reason I was even here, and that’s what I was determined to focus on.

Will was just a small distraction, and that’s how I was determined to think about him. It was all I had, whether I was successful or not.

I had to try.

And with that final thought, I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with a replaying movie starring my naked body and Will’s warm hands leaving not one inch of my flesh untouched.

A movie I secretly wished would never end.

WILL

The palace looked like thousands of Christmas trees exploded, leaving every nook and cranny decorated with lights and tinsel and fake snowflakes and garland and poinsettias and anything and everything else Christmasy.

My mother insisted the staff pull out all the stops every year, since the palace would be full of people.

The people. For fuck’s sake - the people. So many of them it was mind-boggling. I stayed in my wing as long as I could before I showed my face. The Royal Family’s Annual Christmas Party was the event I dreaded the most every year. I couldn’t wait for it to be over, in fact.

I hated everything about it. The decorations, the people, the formality. The mind-bending boringness of it all. The fact that members of the family had to stand in a receiving line for two hours shaking hands and kissing babies. It was enough to make me run in horror, but I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t show.

I’d made that mistake once when I decided one year that I would much rather spend the holidays somewhere warm with a few bikini clad bodies and a lot of booze instead. My mother was so pissed when I didn’t show up, she sent Bertolf to fetch me from the Bahamas and bring me back in time for the god-awful receiving line.

After that embarrassment, I put up with the stupid tradition just to appease my mother. That didn’t mean I liked it. Not one fucking second of it.

Neither did Catherine. But she was much better at obeying the rules and following the detailed itineraries that were given to us every single day of our lives.

That’s the thing I hated the most about being a part of this family. The fact that nothing was spontaneous. Every detail of our lives was planned out for us so far in advance. I could look in my itinerary book and tell you what I was going to be having for lunch three Wednesdays from now.

But now, standing in this stupid line with Catherine to my left, and my mother to my right, Aunt Ora propped up in a chair next to her and a line of distant relatives to her right, I was glad I wasn’t a lone. A line of commoners that stretched out the door just waiting for a glimpse of us and a handshake.

Catherine and I did our best to keep each other entertained, cracking jokes and poking at each other in between guests. My mother did her best to keep us in line, and I, in turn, did my best to try to get my mother to crack a smile. A real smile. Not the fake Queen smile she plastered on her face in public, as she repeated, “God jul!” over and over, as was the Swedish saying for ‘Merry Christmas’.

And it worked every now and then. But most of the time, she was admonishing me for not taking my role as the Prince of Sweden seriously. I was used to that, though.

Finally, when the last of the line appeared and the last few dozen people filed past, Catherine and I sighed in unison. We were hardly done for the night, though.

Now, it was time for the Royal Ball, which was sometimes even more formal than the line, as only invited guests were allowed to attend. It included a huge feast and a hundred-piece orchestra, including a later performance by the Arméns Musikkår, the Royal Swedish Army Band, and a performance of a piece from the Nutcracker, by the Royal Swedish Ballet.

It was exhausting, to say the least.

The only thing keeping me alert was the fact that I hadn’t yet seen Jewels. I’d been keeping an eye peeled for her all night, and continued to do so as we made our entrance into the ballroom to the sound of trumpets after being announced.

I rolled my eyes at Catherine before we made our way down the red carpet, smiling and greeting the guests that lined the sides.

Still no Jewels, though.

Instead, I was cornered by Seraphina, my ex-fiance. She was still just as boring and beautiful as she’d been when we were together. She began rattling on about her parents, her vacation in Anguilla, her new horse. She spent the next ten minutes droning on and on and on as I smiled politely and looked over her shoulder for Jewels.

“What about you, Will? How’ve you been?”

“Just fine, Sera. Listen, I have to go talk to my sister,” I replied, turning away from her abruptly, thankful to see Catherine in the corner waving at me. She and I were both tired of having mind-numbingly boring conversations with random guests, stuffy heads of state and distant cousins that were married to other distant cousins.

“It was nice to see you…” Sera’s voice faded as I walked away.

My mother had found Ben, and they were standing together in a corner, their heads bent together intimately as they talked.

“They look happy,” Catherine whispered at my side.

“Yes, they do,” I agreed.

“Have you seen Julia?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t,” I replied. “If she has any sense, she’ll stay in her room and far away from this madness.”

“Are you referring to the party or yourself?” she asked teasingly.

“Both,” I replied with a smirk.

“I think she still cares about you,” she said.

“Hardly!” I scoffed, as Jewel’s angry eyes flashed in my head. “In fact, I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Catherine replied. “I saw something in her eyes the other day when we were shopping.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling her I told you everything, by the way. Way to keep a secret,” I said.

“I didn’t realize it was a secret,” she replied. “It was a long time ago. It’s not like I called the BBC, for goodness sakes!”

“It really doesn’t matter, Catherine,” I replied. “She hated me before you told her that anyway.”

“I think hate is too strong a word in this situation,” she replied. “But you hurt her, Will. That much is obvious. Maybe she just needs a sincere apology in order for you to be friends again.”

“And what if I want to be more than friends?” I replied, surprising myself with my honesty.

“Well,” she replied, pursing her lips and then wrinkling her nose. “It’s probably not impossible, even with Mom and Ben getting married. Hell, Duke Phillip and Dutchess Magdelene are first cousins! You and Julia aren’t even related.”

“That’s true,” I said, nodding as I raised a gold trimmed goblet of champagne to my lips. “Remember that fact if we get that far. Mom might need some convincing.”

“Well, I’d say you’re far from that happening right now,” she said, before nodding towards the door. “But that might be a good place to start.”

I looked towards the door and my heart leapt into my chest.

Jewels looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her. She wore a long, fitted, green velvet dress that hugged every one of her delicious curves. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a chignon, leaving her long, slender neck bare. Her green eyes scanned the room.

Our eyes met as sparks of desire shot right through me and straight to my groin. My heart sank as she looked away quickly.

She was still angry. Still cold, still closed-off, still off-limits.

Which only served to make me more determined to break through her icy facade. I knew the warmth that lay just under the surface, the passion, the fire of the woman standing before me, and I was determined to reach it again.

I’d been so close last night. The way she kissed me back, finally submitting to me, finally melting under my touch. But I’d gone too fast, grabbing her hand and attempting to pull her to my room. She’d panicked.

Next time, I vowed to go a little slower. If there even was a next time.

First, I had to get her to talk to me again. To trust me.

And that was not going to be an easy feat. She was making me work for it, but it pleased me to no end.

I watched as she spotted her father and walked over to join him and my mother. She looked at him so lovingly, and a quick stab of jealousy penetrated my heart.

If only I hadn’t fucked everything up so badly years ago, she might look at me without anger in her eyes. If only I had stayed in America when she needed me, instead of running away like a coward. If only I’d brought her home with me, married her, fathered a child with her, we’d have a little ten-year-old Prince mini-me running around the castle corridors with Willy by now.

But I hadn’t done any of that.

I’d fucked up. Royally, so to speak.

I grabbed another glass of champagne from a table, and walked over to join them.

“Hello,” I said, handing Jewels the goblet that she quickly took from me. She looked a little nervous, staying close to her father’s side. I shook Ben’s hand and we all looked out at the crowd of dancing guests in front of us.

“What a lovely party,” my mother said.

“Yes, it is,” Jewels agreed, nodding, looking like a fucking goddess standing in this room full of people trying way too hard.

“Darling, would you like to dance?” Ben asked my mother. She nodded and smiled, and he led her to the middle of the crowd as they began a perfect waltz together, leaving Jewels and I alone.

“They look great together,” I commented.

“Yes, they do,” she agreed again. I liked the agreeable Jewels. Maybe she was warming up to being here after all.

“They seem happy,” I added.

“Yes, very.” She wouldn’t look at me, but that’s okay - I was just getting started.

“Would you like to dance?” I asked, holding out a hand to her, knowing she would probably refuse.

“No, I don’t think —,” she began to protest.

“— come on, there’s nothing else to do, and we’re stuck here for hours.”

After a short pause, her eyes looked up and met mine and I smiled.

“Hello, there beautiful,” I whispered.

“Hey,” she whispered, with a small sigh.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand gently and gesturing toward the dance floor.

She sighed again, looking out at our parents. They looked over and her father gestured for us to join them.

“Alright,” she relented, her hand relaxing in mine as I led her to the floor.

I pulled her into my arms, and we began a slow waltz to the music. Her smooth skin felt like velvet beneath my fingertips. I wanted to touch every inch of her, but I maintained my restraint.

“Did you know,” I whispered, bringing my mouth close to her ear as I held her lightly next to me, “the waltz began as a German peasant dance. It was quite provocative at the time, causing lots of controversy as its popularity grew. It was quite scandalous, actually.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “I had no idea.”

“It’s true,” I replied. “Isn’t that funny? That something so seemingly innocent to us now could be so scandalous hundreds of years ago?”

“I suppose so,” she said. “But time changes everything.”

“Yes, it does,” I replied, looking down into her eyes. “Jewels, I’m hoping the same applies for us.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. I could barely look at her and breathe at the same time, she was so fucking beautiful.

“I mean now that so much time has passed since we were in school together, that maybe we could start over again and maybe find a way to be friends?”

“Is that what you want, Will? To be friends?” her eyes flashed. The last thing in the world I wanted was to be just friends with her, but I didn’t think now was the time to say that.

“Yes, I do,” I replied, spinning her around in time to the music. “I think it’s a good start, at least.”

Silently, she nodded, and I wished more than anything I could read her mind right then. Dozens of couples swirled around us, and we danced in silence a few moments. Her hand in mine was hot against my palm and my cock began throbbing under the pants of my tuxedo. I struggled to keep from pulling her closer, using every ounce of willpower I had to maintain a respectable distance in this crowd.

“Do your mother and sister always wear tiaras at formal dances like this?” she asked, nodding and waving at my sister by the bar. Catherine was wearing a small band of diamonds in her hair.

“The Royal Family has countless numbers of tiaras and other jewels that have been passed on through the family for hundreds of years. Catherine hates wearing them, but mother insists that she does it out of tradition. Mother is very big on tradition, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said. I was beginning to feel her body relax against me and it gave me a tiny glimmer of hope.

“Did you ever get a tour of the castle?” I asked. “I was supposed to give you one the other day.”

“No, I didn’t. To be honest, I’m afraid to venture too far off the beaten path because I’m afraid I might get lost in some deserted corner of the palace or locked away in some secret dungeon.”

I laughed and nodded.

“That is a possibility. Did you know the castle has two hundred and twenty rooms?”

“That’s quite a lot,” she replied, shaking her head.

“My mother’s wing has thirty rooms alone. Mine consists of ten and Catherine lives in a separate residence just west of the English gardens we were in last night.”

Her eyes clouded over when I mentioned last night, and I rushed to change the subject.

“There’s only one dungeon, but you have to do really, really bad things to get locked in there,” I said, with a teasing wink.

She laughed, a delightfully musical twinkling laugh that lit up her entire face.

“Would you like a tour now?” I whispered. “We could get away from the crowd for a while.”

She looked around at the people surrounding us and then looked at our parents, who were still dancing and still completely absorbed in one another.