Page 26 of A Royal Disaster
Prince William Louis Albert George Stanley, Duke of Carlyle, didn’t have the luxury of speaking his mind or making mistakes. As future king, every word—every action—had to be carefully considered for the good of Valeria and its people. But perhaps Liam Stanley could put the crown aside for just one night and enjoy the show and the company of the beautiful woman at his side.
Three hours later, when the cast made their final bow and the curtain came down, Liam was on his feet with the rest of the crowd. Elena flashed him a knowing grin but managed not to gloat, further proving she was above the machinations of the Valerian court. The lights rose and she swiped hastily at her eyes as Liam turned to take her arm.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Elena smoothed her skirt and forced a smile. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. The ending gets me every time. The way he climbs the fire escape to rescue her? It’s so romantic.”
“Really? You call that romance? The bloody fool didn’t even grovel or tell her he loved her,” Liam scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I really think you need to raise your standards.”
“He completely overcame his fear of heights to make her dream come true. The love is implied.” Elena sighed. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She slipped her arm through his as Ethan opened the curtain to escort them to the car. “I’m a sucker for the fairy tale.”
Liam grinned and leaned close. “Aren’t all women?” he asked as they moved into the press of bodies trickling toward the theater exit.
Elena considered him, a wicked gleam lighting her dark eyes. “Probably. But don’t let it go to your head, Your Royal Highness. The fairy tale isn’t always about a prince. Sometimes it’s about another princess or the dream job or a great pair of shoes. It’s different for everyone, and that’s the beauty of it.”
“Indeed,” he agreed, guiding her down the carpeted stairs and into the lobby. “I may be an arrogant prick, but I’ve been at court long enough to know a royal marriage does not guarantee a happily ever after, despite what Hollywood would have you believe.” His parents were proof enough of that fact. And for Elena, he knew the fairy tale ending was repairing her image so she could run her studio peacefully and profitably. He wanted that for her, but he couldn’t deny the knowledge stung just a bit, although he couldn’t say why.
When they finally spilled out the front doors of the theater with the rest of the crowd, the car was waiting at the curb, along with a half dozen paparazzi who were no doubt hoping—with good reason—the grand finale was yet to come.
It gave Liam an idea.
“It’s time to take our relationship to the next level,” he said, glancing down at Elena as they closed in on the crowd of onlookers. Her doe-eyed gaze was fixed on the paps and their cameras, the bright flashes confirming they were already firing away, determined not to miss a thing. “Elena,” he said, his voice going husky as he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Elena turned and looked up at him with a brilliant smile that made his chest tighten. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but that was okay, because what he saw there was burning determination. The kind it would take to fool the press, the palace, and the millions of rabid fans who couldn’t see beyond the Mad Eyes Murphy headlines.
Jack opened the door to the limo, but Liam made no move to tuck Elena inside. Instead, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, using his free hand to lift her chin so she had no choice but to look him in the eye and forget about the cameras. They were so close he could feel the heat of her body, the soft curve of her breasts, the erratic beat of her heart as the scent of her perfume—a citrus floral combination—curled around them as if creating an invisible barrier to the outside world.
Elena looked up at him from under her dark lashes, her full lips parted in invitation as he cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss started slow and chaste, a mere brush of the lips. It was a kiss befitting the Crown Prince of Valeria—the kind that would make the masses swoon at the prospect of a royal romance—but when Elena melted into his embrace, her soft lips melding to his in supplication, white-hot need crackled across his skin, and all thoughts of propriety went up in flames. He deepened the kiss, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hip even as his tongue brushed against hers in a seductive dance. Their lips moved in concert, but no matter how many times he kissed her, it wasn’t enough. He needed more. What he wouldn’t give to—
Ethan cleared his throat. “Sir?”
Bollocks. Liam fought a groan even as he came back to himself. It was time to wrap up the show. There was a fine line between newsworthy royal romance and royals gone wild, and he’d been about to cross it right there on the street for the whole damn world to see. He pulled back slowly, taking satisfaction in the fact that Elena appeared well-kissed with swollen lips and a healthy glow in her cheeks that made it clear to anyone watching she was smitten.
Well played, Elena.
Liam couldn’t help grinning like a fool as he helped his fake girlfriend into the car amid a new flurry of shouted questions and flashes from the paparazzi. She smiled up at him like he was a lost Picasso, and he had to give her credit, she was one hell of an actress. Perhaps even he might’ve been fooled if she hadn’t made it clear her only priority was the studio.
Or was it possible she’d felt a spark of something, too?
He shook off the errant thought as he slid into the car. What they had was a business arrangement, and he’d do well to remember it.
Elena Murphy: American Royalty?
We’ve always hoped one of America’s own could snare the heart of a Valerian prince, but we kind of figured it would be Prince Alexander. And, if we’re being honest, a woman who knows how to work a pole (in more ways than one). So color us surprised when we heard Prince William (aka His Royal Hotness) was seen getting cozy with none other than Elena Murphy at a Broadway show last night.
What show you ask?Pretty Woman, of course. (We’re sure there’s a joke in there somewhere, but we’re a little too hungover this morning to care.)
Sources say the pair arrived in style and spent the night canoodling in a private balcony, but who knows what really goes on when the lights go down? Lucky for us the smitten couple couldn’t keep their hands to themselves and were caught in a heavy PDA sesh outside the theater. So much for the old “look, don’t touch” adage! (Seriously. Check out those pics. They’re burning up the interwebz and it’s not just because Murphy’s dress is H-O-T.)
Now, we’re pretty sure this is a first for HRH, and we know it’s a definite no-no for the royal family, so only one question remains: could this be love?
We have to admit we don’t hate the idea of an American princess and we might even be able to get behind a Willena ship (how cute are they together?), but don’t go crying into your wineglasses just yet, ladies. If we know anything about celebrity ships (and trust us, we do), they’re rarely end game. We wish HRH the best, but like the song says, love is a battlefield, and we already know Murphy isn’t afraid to fight dirty!
Chapter Eight
The bell to the shop rang and Lena looked up to see Carlos—the florist she’d gotten to know on a first-name basis—smiling at her from behind a ginormous bouquet of vibrant blossoms that looked like they’d been plucked right from a photo shoot. Today’s arrangement was a lovely blend of peonies in all shades of pink from the faintest blush to a bold fuchsia that spoke directly to her soul.
“Buenos días, señorita. Got another one for you,” Carlos said cheerfully. “Where would you like them?”
