Royal Watch Page 8

  “Yeah, and he knows it too.” My top lip lifted in disgust as I tried not to peer back at him again. Lennox and Peter stayed back enough to not look suspicious, but I could feel Lennox’s looming form nipping at my heels and breathing down my back like the big bad wolf.

  “He is bloody hot,” Eloise confirmed with a hearty nod. “But Theo’s already warned me if I touch him, he will actually disown me this time.”

  Hazel laughed. “This time, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I turned to Eloise. “Did I pick up on a vibe between you and Ben?”

  “A vibe.” Hazel snorted, still sounding elegant. “Oh, Spence… you don’t want to even touch that one.”

  I glanced over at Eloise. Her jaw cracked together; her gaze filled with annoyance.

  “Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She rushed forward, heading to the bar alongside her brother.

  “What was that?” I asked Hazel.

  “Let’s just say their past is sticky and complex at best. All I know is they were each other’s firsts a long time ago. Neither one will talk about what happened between them, but I think they still have a little thing for each other.”

  Losing your virginity to your best friends’ sister. A princess. One you will have to see all the time. Yeah, that must be awkward.

  “You and Theo are official now?” Hazel glanced at me.

  “Guess so.” I let out an exhaled laugh, watching him animatedly chatting with his friends. “Met the queen this evening. That was an utter disaster.” I shook my head. “But Theo’s moved me into the palace. For now.” That would be temporary.

  “Wow. It’s serious, then?” She arched a perfectly curved eyebrow, her head darting back to Theo. “Like, ‘you guys will be getting married’ kind of serious.”

  “If that happens, it’s far down the road. I’m barely up with us being back together.”

  “Well, you better get ready and quickly.” Hazel turned back to me, her face stern and serious. “From now on, that will be the first question the media will be asking. They will relentlessly hound you, wondering when you and Theo will wed. There is no gray area with royalty. You better be all the way in.”

  My throat tightened, struggling to swallow, fear flogging at me like a whip.

  “Sorry, completely freaked you out.” Hazel laughed, shaking her head, the solemnity dissolving into a happy smile. “Tonight, let’s have fun…” She glanced quickly over her shoulder again, a long sigh drawing her shoulders down. “Though, I can’t function with that man around. I certainly need him in my bed by the end of this night.”

  “Aren’t you dating a model from Spain?” If the tabloids were correct.

  “Summer fling.” She batted her hand. She flicked her head to look behind her “But that man is still ten times sexier than Sebastian was. And he modeled underwear!”

  “Well, that one…” I mirrored her movement… “is an arrogant, miserable, dreary arsehole.”

  “Wow.” Hazel’s eyes went wide, her eyebrow curving. “Such strong feelings about him… already.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Yeah, clearly, I seem to like them like that.” She sighed painfully, biting her lip before turning back to the bar. “You really have the best catch anyway.” She grinned at Theo laughing with his friends.

  “I really do.” I nodded.

  Chapter 8

  “Cheers to the new Royal Air Force reject, Lieutenant Wanker!” Charlie held up his drink. “While you were running hundreds of kilometers at four in the morning, eating gruel, I was doing lines off a Victoria’s Secret model’s arse and drinking champagne for breakfast! You lucky dog you. You don’t know how many times I woke up with four or five women around me, wishing I could be you instead.” Charlie gripped his chest in false envy.

  “Feck off.” Theo laughed, his cheeks rosy from the few drinks he already consumed. Charlie and Ben were on a mission to get Theo trolleyed. A boy’s version of “Welcome home. We missed you.”

  “But look at this shite now!” Ben grabbed Theo’s shirt, pulling it up, showing off his trim waist and newly defined abs. Theo always stayed in shape, but not like this. He had no definition before, but now you could see more tight lines of muscle down his torso. “While you were growing a six-pack on the inside.” Ben punched Charlie’s stomach, bending him over with a groan.

  “Hey, arse. Don’t spill my drink!” Charlie thumped Ben back, licking his hand where his beer spilled down. “Party foul, mate.”

  “Guys, my arm’s getting tired. Shut it so we can drink.” Hazel wiggled the cup in her hand, still raised in the air with the rest of us.

  “To Lieutenant Wanker.” We all yelled at Theo before downing the drinks in our hands. My vodka and soda slid down my throat far too easily. The club was packed, the music thumping under my feet along the cement floor.

  We were all in a blissful state where life was perfect. We were young and tipsy, the world at our fingertips, and surrounded by friends.

  Theo’s arm came around me, his glossy eyes rolling over me. “Have I told you how hot you look?”

  “Yes.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking into him. I couldn’t get over it; I was with Theodore. The future king of Victoria. How crazy was that? I used to make fun of girls like me, laughing at those who thought it could be them becoming the future queen of Victoria.

  “Have I told you I love you?” He leaned over, kissing me.

  My heart leaped up in my throat, a mix of panic and happiness buzzing inside me.

  “All right. Come on.” Eloise groaned, taking a gulp of her gin and tonic. “I really don’t need images of my brother snogging.”

  “Then look away,” Theo shouted back at his sister over the music. “Don’t you have a job to do anyway?”

  “Oh, bugger!” Her posh accent sounded hilarious in contrast to her words. El downed the rest of her drink, handing her empty glass to Hazel. “No rest for the wicked.” She winked before darting off.

  “Job?” I watched her disappear into the throng of people.

  “Oh, love. You think Princess Eloise is anything like what the media portrays her as?” Charlie laughed, his hand going to his stomach. “Their PR works their ass off to keep her image so clean.”

  Ben snickered, rubbing his head, his gaze still on the trail she left behind. I couldn’t decipher what he was feeling, but it only cemented to me they had a history that hadn’t been worked through.

  “I’m confused.” I knew Eloise wasn’t as prim as she was in front of the cameras, but for a princess to have a “job” at a seedy club seemed bizarre.

  “I think it will be much more fun for you to see for yourself.” Hazel grabbed my arm, pulling me to face out into the large warehouse, a mischievous smile on her lips.

  A spotlight illuminated the middle of the floor, urging the crowd out to the surrounding areas. The music ended as a figure stepped out in the empty space and the crowd cheered and whistled.

  “Hey!” Eloise’s voice boomed through the speakers, jolting my gaze to her figure strolling out to the middle, her hips swinging confidently, a huge flirty smile on her face. “You all right?”

  The crowd whooped and hollered out at her.

  “What the hell?” I looked between Hazel and Theo. They looked at each other, sharing a private smile before winking at me.

  “Just watch. She’s magic,” Hazel whispered to me.

  “Bets are closing, so if you haven’t put yours in, get your arses up to me now.” Her throaty laugh was like honey, playful and sexy. “And I guarantee you don’t want to miss out. Three rounds tonight by two of the best!” The crowd cheered. “You guys know the rules. No interference of any kind. You will be shown the door by Teddy over there.” She shaded her eyes from the light, pointing to the humongous bouncer standing at the back wall. “And let me tell you, he’s not so cuddly when you anger him. I should know.” She pointed at herself with a teasing wobble to her mouth, like she knew some secret story. The assembly chuckled, eating her up. There
wasn’t an eye not locked on her. Eloise oozed sex and naughtiness, winking and smiling at everyone, no matter age, sex, or appearance. She worked the crowd like an enchantress.

  “That,” Hazel nudged me, nodding at Eloise, “is the real Eloise Catherine Victoria Elenore of Livingston. A princess by day… a bookie by night.”

  A bookie?

  “And day.” Charlie draped his arm around me. “She works the horse races and polo matches too.”

  My mouth parted in utter shock. It was one thing seeing a more relaxed side to the princess, but my head was struggling with seeing this side. One the world knew nothing about.

  “If the fighter is down over ten seconds, they’re out. No hits once they have fallen to the ground. Winner moves on to the next fight.” She strolled around, and I noticed there was a circle marked out on the floor. “You claim your money at the end.”

  “Everyone ready?”

  The hollers echoed through the warehouse.

  “All right, let’s begin!” She twisted, motioning to a shirtless man in the shadows on one side. “Applaud for the infamous Killbourne.” The whistles and cheers stabbed my eardrums. “And over here is Larry ‘Tremor’ Gibbs.” His fanfare was a little less, but the crowd was rowdy and anxious for the fight to begin.

  She stepped out of the circle toward the back wall near her bodyguard and the bouncer, a few men rushing to her with cash in hand.

  “My sister, ladies and gentlemen.” Theo gestured to her. “We’re so proud.”

  “You love it.” Hazel shot at him. “She’s a badarse, and you know it.”

  He shrugged, not fighting the truth.

  “Come on, it’s much more exciting up close.” Hazel dragged me to the front, shoving and wiggling through without apology. Bodies crushed around us, feet stomping in a chant as the two fighters started circling each other. I had never been to a fight or anything like this. Excitement tapped my skin, swirling around the air, compelling me to breathe in the energy like a drug.

  Now I understood the stale smell of sweat and blood and the unusual venue choice.

  The shirtless guy was younger and much more in shape. He was actually very attractive, his nose flat and crooked, but somehow it made him more rugged. The other guy was older, smaller with shaggy hair hanging his eyes. He was in shape but didn’t have the confidence of the first guy. It didn’t seem a fair fight. And by the chants in the group, most had the same thought.

  “Kill—Bourne!” His name was recited over and over like a war cry. The atmosphere was sparking with violence.

  Killbourne weaved and dodged from the Tremor, striking his stomach. Tremor stumbled back, allowing Killbourne’s fist to come down on his face. The sounds of cartilage breaking, flesh being smacked, and blood squirting over the floor stirred the crowd into a frenzy.

  I couldn’t deny feeling a certain level of excitement, but it also freaked me out.

  Another hit dropped Tremor to the floor.

  “Ten. Nine. Eight…” The crowd counted down, the closer it got to reaching one the more rallied they got.

  “Two…”

  Tremor shook his head, pushing himself up from the floor, wiping the blood from his face, getting back into the fight.

  “Killbourne. Killbourne. Killbourne!”

  “Killbourne, I love you,” a girl screamed, twisting his head for a moment to grin at her.

  One second.

  Everything changed.

  Tremor’s hit echoed through the space, startling both Killbourne and the crowd. Using that moment, he struck again. Killbourne’s form dropped to the ground. The crowd gasped as Tremor pounced, punching his opponent until Killbourne’s body went slack.

  “He’s not supposed to do that. To keep hitting him after he’s fallen,” Hazel hissed, her eyes wide.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” a few of Tremor’s fans sang out. Shouts at Killbourne to get up slammed in from every direction.

  No movement.

  “One…” A small section cheered, jumping around, surprised at their win.

  The other side shocked at their loss.

  “Fuck. No!” I heard a guy scream. “He cheated!”

  “Sore losers!”

  The shift was instant, the audience twisting into a mob.

  “That was not a win!” A figure barreled out of the crowd, getting into another guy’s face, their cries turning into shoves and yells, their mates joining them. “That bet doesn’t count.” He pointed his finger at Eloise. “I am not losing all my money on a cheat!”

  “Oh, shite.” Hazel’s hand clutched mine. “We need to get out of here.”

  It was like her sentiment shattered the last bit of peace, the room detonating into violence and chaos. Bodies hurled at each other like a stampede, shoving me down to the ground with a smack.

  “Spencer!” I heard Hazel scream for me, her hand trying to reach for mine, but the throng carted her farther away from me.

  “Hazel!” Shoes crushed down on my arms and legs, a cry tearing from my throat as I tried to get back up. No one cared as they trampled over me. Fear pounded in my ears, my lungs struggling to take gulps of air. Crawling, I slid my body through a puddle of blood over the sticky floor, trying to escape the crushing horde fighting and screaming.

  Pain exploded through my nerves as a huge figure fell over me, slamming my head into a post, my brain spinning. More and more feet and legs were kicking and stepping on me. Blood trailed down my nose and temple as I curled in a ball, pain twisting bile up my throat, darkness creeping around my vision. I heard of people dying this way. It always sounded so tragic. Being stomped to death because no one took a moment to stop or help.

  Would this be my story? How Spencer Sutton died, trampled by people like a herd of caribou? Sounded about right.

  “Blimey hell,” a deep voice growled in my ear, hands roughly grabbing me. My lids parted enough to see a familiar face snarling down at me like this was entirely my fault. “The wannabe princess already needs her arse saved.”

  Lennox’s arms moved underneath me, picking me up, knocking back people as they rammed into us as he rose.

  “Fuck you,” I tried to spit at him but came out more a slurred mess. I attempted to wiggle out of his arms, but his muscles locked in around me, his strength too much for me to fight.

  “Now, that would be highly inappropriate.” His gravelly voice was filled with annoyance and disgust.

  Fury bubbled in my chest, my pride wanting to lash out, but his body was warm, and my lids drooped as the adrenaline dropped away, allowing the pain to consume my bones. My head throbbed, feeling like a blade was being jabbed through my temple.

  He held me tight, shoulder checking anyone daring to step in his way, moving and gliding through the crown like a trained assassin.

  “Theo? Eloise… Hazel?” I fought to say each name, my body shutting down.

  “They are all fine. It’s just you who didn’t get out,” he replied dryly. Relief closed my eyes, my ear pressing against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

  “Bloody hell. Spencer!” I heard my name being called, but Theo’s voice whisked by me like a dream, sleep tugging me into safety.

  Chapter 9

  A dream of being trampled bolted me awake, and I lurched up, my gaze taking in the early dawn. The sky was barely hinting of light, casting the large room in heavy shadows. Fear gripped my throat, my cloudy head not understanding where I was. Chandeliers, tapestries, paintings, wallpaper in delicate flowers, with heavy white adorned furniture. Over the top, expensive, but greatly outdated in modern times.

  Royal Palace. The Queen Anne room.

  Every muscle ached, and my head throbbed, reminding me that my dream had been real. The fight in the club, which had started out as a fun night, turned chilling in moments. Glancing down at myself, I noticed I had been left in my clothes, which were sticky with blood and other substances from that disgusting floor I didn’t even want to think about.

  Lennox had fo
und me. Carried me out like some damsel in distress, which had me livid. I was anything but helpless.

  “The wannabe princess already needs her arse saved.” His comment sizzled fury up my spine. I would be fine with Dalton or any of the other bodyguards getting me out. Thankful. But not him. He made me feel like it was some weakness I got shoved down and trampled on. Like I was some feeble little girl who couldn’t handle the “real” world.

  Feck him.

  Dealing with him was a reality because of Theo, but to me, he would be no more than walking armor in the background.

  He’s just another person here who doesn’t think you belong.

  I wanted to go home. This place felt cold and empty of comfort and love. Like the queen herself, beautiful but unapproachable and reserved. Even the room didn’t seem to want me here. My eyes slid to the armoire full of clothes, the borrowed boots on the ground, the jacket on the chair.

  There was nothing here of mine, making me feel even more lost and alone.

  Waking up here the first time would be scary enough, but after the night we had, losing consciousness in the club after almost being trampled to death—it was utterly terrifying.

  I wanted to go home.

  Theo. This will all be worth it.

  A pounding head and aching bones weighed me down in the expensive bedding, and I melted into the fluffy pillows and mattress. My eyes lowered, drifting me back into dreamland.

  When I woke again, the room was filled in buttery light. Groaning, I pushed off the mattress, my bladder moving me quicker than my bones wanted to. I padded into the bathroom, which was in the same creams, golds, and pastels as my room. It housed a gold chandelier, small shower, claw tub, toilet, and bidet. For the palace, it was very simple, which was fine by me. The ornate decor of this castle could get overwhelming. Besides the servant quarters, this was probably one of the least decorated rooms, suggesting I was low on the guest-to-impress list.

  Jumping in the shower, I washed the grime, blood, and smell from my skin and hair, discovering most of my body covered in bruises, including a discoloration on my thigh in the exact shape of a man’s boot.