Royally Wild (Crazy Royal Love Romantic Comedy Book 2) Read online

  “Yes, it will. We’ve already more than proved our love to each other. And now we can prove it to the world.”

  Nodding, she says, “Yes. Five episodes, then onto bigger and better things.”

  “Speaking of which…” I say, leaning in and letting my lips brush along the nape of her neck.

  Arabella makes a little moaning sound, indicating that round three is about to begin. She murmurs, “We should be sleeping but we also need to make the most of the time we have left.”

  “You say that as if these are our final moments together forever.”

  “Well, not forever, obviously. But things are about to get considerably more difficult.” Kiss. “I’m going to miss having you in my bed every night.” Kiss. “Although I imagine I’ll get a lot more sleep.” She nips at my bottom lip.

  I freeze in place. “What do you mean you won’t have me in your bed every night?”

  “Well, we’re not married, so it’s not like you can stay over at the palace or I can stay with you. Not without causing a scandal.”

  It’s not? “Would it really be such a scandal? I mean, you’re almost thirty, for God’s sake.”

  “Not for another five months, thank you very much,” she says in a warning tone.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re old,” I say, then narrow my eyes. “When is your birthday, anyway?”

  “March third.” Her expression screams, ‘we barely know each other.’

  “We do so.” Lifting myself up, I flip us, so I’m now on top of her.

  “What?”

  “We do so know each other. Very well.”

  Chuckling, Arabella says, “You did know what I was thinking just now, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, so stop worrying. We’ll be fine.” I kiss her again, but the thought of us being apart for the next several weeks has me pausing. “You know, sex before marriage is widely regarded as acceptable these days.”

  “Premarital sex is acceptable for everyone other than the royal family, I’m afraid.”

  Pulling back, I give her a confused look.

  “The general consensus among the taxpayers is that if they’re paying for our lives—which they aren’t—we must conduct ourselves in a manner befitting the ultimate role models for society. I’m quoting the senior advisors there.”

  “Doesn’t that seem rather silly?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s absolutely ridiculous and leads to all sorts of pretending.” She lifts her head and kisses me hard on the mouth. “But with great privilege comes… a great deal of hypocrisy.”

  I roll off of her and lay back, my mind racing to figure out where I’m going to stay when we land. Like an idiot, I assumed we would stay together, obviously at her family’s massive palace where there are probably a hundred empty bedrooms.

  She turns on her side, her face filled with concern. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

  “I suppose I should have. I guess I didn’t think it through.”

  “Now I’ve totally killed the mood when my intention was to drink in every last drop of our alone time together.”

  “No, it’s totally fine.” I shake my head and smile. “Obviously, I can’t stay with you, but it’s all good. It’ll be fun, actually. We’ll have to sneak around. It’ll add a sense of danger to the whole thing that an all-access pass doesn’t have.”

  Arabella grins at me and raises and lowers her eyebrows. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

  I go straight for her earlobe and do that thing that makes her make that noise.

  Ah, there it is—victory.

  And now she’s kissing me again in that way that tells me she’s had enough chitchat. And I couldn’t agree more.

  2

  Overbearing Older Brothers, Accomplished Older Women, and Princesses Acting Like Ostriches…

  Arabella

  “Well, that was rude,” I say as I slide across the backseat of the limo. My older brother Arthur, the heir apparent who apparently thinks he can run my life, sent his driver into the airport to get me and told him to refuse to give poor Will a ride under the pretence of me needing to be back at the palace immediately on urgent family business. “You couldn’t even be bothered to get out of the car and say hello to Will.”

  Arthur leans forward and takes a bottle of water out of the fridge. He offers it to me, but I shake it off, even though I am quite parched. Shrugging, he opens it for himself and has a long swig before he answers. “Sorry about that, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, what with trying to help run an entire kingdom whilst being a hands-on dad to my children and a loving husband.”

  “Which is why you shouldn’t have bothered coming to get me,” I say, opening the fridge and getting my own water.

  “Knew you were thirsty.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “What’s going on?”

  “By any chance, did you and Adventure Boy happen to see the ads for your little show?”

  “Don’t call him that, and no, we didn’t,” I say, feeling my heart speed up. A tiny smile flits across my lips. “We were rather busy.”

  “Gross.” He picks up his tablet and hands it to me. “You’ll want to see this because as soon as we arrive at home, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  My gut tightens as I press play. Delicate classical music starts up, paired with footage of me in a blue evening gown walking into a hotel. I almost smile when I realize that was the night I met Will. The scene cuts, and I’m now dressed in a flowy light pink dress at a garden party, nibbling on a scone. The music stops, and a man’s voice says, “This dainty, beautiful princess has no idea what’s in store for her. She’s about to spend ten days out here.”

  Footage of the jungle flashes on the screen at the same time as African drums begin to beat. “…with Will Banks, Avonia’s answer to Bear Grylls. They’ll have only each other and their wits to get them out alive.”

  The drums pick up pace while a montage of moments from our time in the jungle plays out. “Starting Thursday, September seventeenth, watch as Princess Arabella transforms from this…” An image of me in the blue gown appears again. “To this.” And now the shot of me covered in mud, dragging Will behind me and shoving Dylan in the face plays out.

  The drums die down and an eerie violin solo begins. “But even more shocking than her transformation, are the secrets she spills. Lust. Divided loyalties. Betrayal. Survival. One thing is certain, lives will be forever changed. Tune in Thursday at 8 p.m. to ABN’s Princess in the Wild and be part of history in the making.”

  The ad finally ends, and I press pause as my body breaks out into a cold sweat. Swallowing hard, I do my best to put on a nonchalant expression as I hand back the tablet.

  “What secrets, Arabella?” Arthur asks.

  Shrugging, I say, “Nothing. They’re clearly trying to make it seem scandalous to get ratings.”

  “Nothing? Based on this, there must be something. Think hard. What did you tell him?”

  I take a long sip of my water, my mind racing at what they might have got on film. Sex. That’s the shocking secret to which they’re referring. My face heats up a bit and I stare out the window, avoiding eye contact with him. “It’s probably because we… really got to know each other while we were out there.”

  Arthur sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, something he does when he’s trying to stay calm. “Are you saying you may have accidentally made a sex tape?”

  “No!” I snap. “God, no. I’m not a complete idiot. We were very careful about shutting off the cameras before… anything happened.” At least, I’m pretty sure we were. “You know, this is more than a little insulting, Arthur. You show up at the airport unannounced, refuse to give Will a ride, stranding the poor man at the terminal, then you confront me about this stupid ad. Honestly, it’s a rather shit homecoming, if you ask me.”

  “First of all, if Will can’t find his way out of an airport terminal, he probably shouldn’t have his own survival show. Second, don’t get snippy with me. While you’ve been
off traipsing around on a yacht with Adventure Boy—”

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “—I’ve been dealing with a very concerned team of lawyers and advisors who—since this ridiculous ad started airing—are up in arms about putting a stop to whatever’s about to happen. I’m trying to help you because, in a few minutes, you’ll be facing a dozen suits, all of whom are waiting for an explanation from you.”

  Bugger, I hope it’s just the sex. “Are you serious? All because of a silly ad? I mean really, Arthur, they’re obviously misleading the public. I can’t believe you, of all people, would fall for that.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “I haven’t fallen for anything, but as your big brother, it’s my duty to protect you. And if there’s any truth to it, we need to get out in front of this thing.”

  I instantly see red at the whole ‘duty to protect’ thing and I purse my lips together. “First, I don’t need protecting—something I more than proved when I was out in the jungle. Second, as I already said, there’s no secret. No scandal. Nothing other than the fact that we fell in love out there. That’s what they’re referring to when they say lives will be forever changed. That’s it. Therefore, there’s absolutely no need for a big fuss.”

  “You better hope you’re right because we’ve had the legal team approach ABN for an advanced screening, but they’ve refused. And they can do it, too, because you signed one hell of an iron-clad contract.” He sighs, disappointment radiating from him.

  My shoulders drop, and I turn my gaze to the window to avoid eye contact with Arthur. What could they possibly have? Nothing, right?

  “Don’t hold out on me, Arabella. I can’t help you if I don’t know what we’re up against.”

  The car slows and turns left toward the bridge that crosses the Langdon River. On the other side is home—the sprawling one-hundred-acre palace grounds complete with a forest, private graveyard, a lake, and my cozy, warm bed that I am desperate to dive into so I can hide from whatever is about to happen. Actually, I’d much rather grab Will, get back on the jet and go to Paradise Bay because I have a terrible feeling that I am, in fact, about to be embroiled in a horrific scandal, but my brain is far too sleepy to recall all the potential things I did and said four months ago. Did we have sex without shutting off the cameras? I mean, we had a lot of sex out there, so it’s entirely possible. But we wouldn’t have had the GoPros pointed at us, so it would only be… sounds. Urgh. I cannot tell my brother that there is even a remote possibility that the world is going to hear his sister in the throes of passion.

  Arthur stares at me, knowing how much I hate awkward silences. He thinks I’ll crack.

  Dammit. He’s right.

  “Look, Arthur, if I did say something on camera, it can’t have been important because I have no recollection of it. Honestly, if I had spilled some big secret, I’d remember, and I’d certainly fess up to it now, but it didn’t happen.”

  “So there’s nothing to worry about?” he asks, running his tongue over his teeth.

  “Nada. Everything is absolutely fine.”

  I hope.

  Why did I come home? This has been the worst day I’ve had in years. As soon as we arrived, I was made to change into dress clothes and attend a horrific emergency meeting with all the suits grilling me about what happened in Zamunda. It was awful—even one of the junior suits took a run at me. I spent the entire time reassuring them that nothing of consequence occurred, other than my relationship with Will, that is. But they wouldn’t let up no matter what I said. Finally, I resorted to my default way of getting out of situations like this—and I’m not proud of myself, okay? So please don’t judge me. In fact, I hate myself for what I did next.

  I cried.

  Yes. That’s right. Arabella, Warrior Princess, who dragged a grown man out of the jungle, just turned on the water works to end a meeting. I suck. I really thought I was better than that but, apparently, no.

  As soon as that horror show ended, I was rushed into my office by my assistant, Mrs. Chapman, who sat me down in front of a pile of overdue correspondence so high, I could barely reach the top. Okay, I’m being a bit dramatic about that, but it will take me days to catch up and there is no way I can cry my way out of anything with Mrs. Tight Bun No Nonsense.

  I’m still working on it now, even though I’m physically exhausted and emotionally drained. We only slept for about two hours the entire night on account of being so busy storing up shags that we won’t be able to fit in over the next few weeks. My eyes close and I’m almost immediately asleep, sitting up when my phone buzzes.

  When I swipe the screen, I see a text from Will. How is it possible that I miss you this much already? #patheticmaninlove.

  Me: That works out well because I literally felt the life being drained from my body the moment we parted ways. #stupidarchaicrulesforprincesses

  I smile at the screen for a moment, then dig around in my handbag for the shell Will gave me on our last day on the yacht. I was feeling particularly sad that the most relaxing, carefree, incredible time of my entire life was about to end, so while I was having a shower before supper, he dove into the ocean and found a tiny, perfect, pink and ivory conch shell. At supper that night, he gave it to me and told me to keep it with me always so that no matter where I was or what was happening, I could come right back to our time on the yacht and know how much I am loved.

  Plucking it out of my bag, I hold it in my palm and run my fingertips over its smooth surface. I am loved. Aaahhh…

  We really are perfect for each other. And I know everyone thinks theirs is the greatest love of all time, but in our case, it’s true. His gorgeous face when we said goodbye pops into my mind— the dimples that appeared when he smiled at me, his chiseled jaw that lets you know he’s the manliest of men, and his coffee-coloured eyes shining at me. Oh, those eyes.

  Eyes.

  Eyelids.

  Good God, my eyelids are heavy.

  Nope. Must stay awake.

  Mrs. Chapman knocks at the door, then enters my office with a trolley of tea and biscuits. “You’re going to need some energy for your first teleconference with the Equal Everywhere Campaign Director. It starts in exactly twelve minutes.”

  I busy myself writing the birthday card for the chairperson of the Avonian Introverts Society (of which I am a patron) while she pours my tea. I can feel her staring before she finally comes out with it. “Is that too much bronzer or have you actually allowed your skin to tan?”

  “The second one,” I say, without looking up. “It’s very difficult to be out on the open water for that many weeks without tanning, even if you are careful.” Which I wasn’t. I grin to myself a little, thinking of how shocked Mrs. Chapman would be to discover I don’t have any tan lines.

  Yes, I’m a very scandalous princess these days, with a crazy hot manly boyfriend and my own adventure show that’s about to air on international television. Nothing dull about this lady anymore. She’s wild and fiercely… fierce. And too tired to think of a good way to describe herself. And stuck at her stupid desk with a pile of stupid mail.

  Exactly eleven minutes later, I have sucked down two mugs of tea with extra sugar, my office has been staged, complete with a bouquet of fresh flowers, and I am seated at my desk waiting for the host to let me into our Zoom meeting room. I finally see Malika Jelani, the director of the Equal Everywhere Campaign, on the screen. She’s smiling brightly and speaking, but there’s no sound so I wave and say, “Hello. I can’t hear you. Can you hear me?”

  She shakes her head and mouths what I’m sure is ‘I can’t hear you,’ then the two of us spend the next couple of minutes fiddling with the settings and trying to talk with neither of us figuring out the magic combination. Frustration builds as I tap at the microphone button for the one-hundredth time and mutter, “I’m too tired for this shit today. How is this any better than using the bloody telephone?!”

  Malika’s face falls. “The sound seems to be fixed.”

&nbs
p; “Brilliant.” Crap on a stick. That she heard? I smile brightly, hoping it makes up for my foul language.

  “If you’d rather reschedule, I have an opening next Tuesday.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Oh no, I didn’t mean I’m too tired for the meeting. I was talking about technology. I’m afraid it’s not my strong suit.”

  Her face softens. “Mine either.”

  Thank God she bought it. “No, I’m absolutely beyond thrilled to be the Avonian ambassador for the campaign.”

  Malika smiles, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she does. To look at her, you’d think she’s a warm grandmotherly type who bakes cookies and knits baby blankets all day, but with her resume, I doubt she’s had time to do either of those things even once. She’s a professor at the prestigious University of Cape Town with PhDs in both International Law and Political Science. She was one of the first women to receive the World Science and Health Forum’s Heroes Award for her tireless efforts to raise awareness of the AIDS epidemic back in the eighties. She also won the Indira Gandhi Peace Prize and has made the list of the “100 Leading Global Thinkers” by Foreign Policy magazine four years in a row.

  All that to say, I’m out of my league here. “I cannot think of more important work and am looking forward to throwing myself into it with everything I’ve got.”

  “Excellent,” she says. “Someone with your impeccable reputation and passion for philanthropy is always a welcome addition. But before we get started, I do need to ask about your upcoming reality television series. It’s… unusual for one of our ambassadors to take part in such a … thing.”

  Flashes of Will and me doing it all over the jungle pop into my mind and I feel my face heating up. “Oh, yes, it was quite out of character for me as well, but I needed to do it, Malika. I had to test my mettle, you know?”

  “Right, of course,” she says, scratching her head. “But um… is there anything we ought to be aware of before we announce you?”