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He directed Clara toward the hotel’s small tea room shared with the bar across from the front desk. She sincerely hoped Igor would call her before she left the hotel; in the meantime, a meal and cup of tea might help her stupid tension headache. She couldn’t think straight.I can’t have my precious coffee until I take a nap. How am I going to get out of this mess?
The hotel café seemed much more crowded than Clara would have imagined it being for so early in the day. She really didn’t mind the eye candy the ten or so British businessmen in perfectly-tailored suits provided. Every single man in the café appeared to have a strong muscular physique; she definitely was not in the U.S. anymore!They have politeness, tea, and beautiful men.Her list of things she loved about the U.K. was growing. As discreetly as possible, Clara snapped a photo of the three men standing closest to her and sent it to Amanda. The men chatted amongst themselves, enjoying their own tea service. As a ballerina, she was used to muscular men, but a well-fitting suit on a strong body was the definition of sexy.
Glancing around, all of the available tables and seats appeared to be taken. A few seats were turned upside down and set on top of the tables in the back corner, probably for use later in the afternoon. Was that an extra room back there? It didn’t seem to be too busy there. In fact, there was an intense and hushed conversation taking place between the only two people in the room. There should be space for the petite 5’2” Clara to enter without causing too much trouble. Slipping past the businessmen, she walked around the empty tables and entered the back room.
“Everything all right back here, boys?”the café manager, a retired member of the former Prince of Wales’ security detail, asked as he poked his head in to check on his former two charges.
“We’re doing all right, thanks. If you wouldn’t mind bringing ’round another pitcher of water, we would sure appreciate it,” Prince David, the Duke of Leeds, replied. “We shall always be boys to you, won’t we, Stephen?” David added, not expecting an answer. Stephen smirked and brought back the requested pitcher with speed that rivaled the fastest racehorse at Royal Ascot.
“Thank you.” David nodded to him. He turned his attention back to Eddie who sat at the table with his forehead resting on top of his arms. David frowned and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.
“I’ll be in the bar area catching up with the rest of the gang if you need me,” he offered, referring to David and Eddie’s security detail. Stephen was well-versed in the art of disappearing.
The café at the Central London Hotel was a favored spot in the Victoria neighborhood for members of the royal family to visit every once in a blue moon. Stephen allowed for the café’s back room to always be kept available should they need a place to destress from the duties of being royals, a fact for which David was grateful, despite his morose companion.
“Eddie, do you not think you’ve had enough to drink? I understand you suffered a horrid disappointment with Sophia, but drinking is not the answer to your problems,” David stated matter-of-factly in a tired but calm voice.How can I get through to him?David stood and paced the room.
Eddie looked up from the table at David with red-rimmed eyes and flushed red cheeks. He jumped unsteadily to his feet. The chair fell onto the ground. “You’re in league with my mum and father! Always asking me to think about how my behavior looks to the bloody press! I’m the flipping Prince of Wales. I can do whatever I please, whenever I please. That includes getting shitfaced.”
“Eddie, you told me you had an emergency. I got on the first plane from America to London to see you. Do you realize how much trouble it was to coordinate a last minute flight or that I had five business meetings I had to reschedule? I was representing the U.K. on a state visit to America. I really wish you had explained what the nature of your emergency was.” David sighed and removed his glasses to rub his tired eyes.
He’d been up since 4:00 a.m. Los Angeles time. What he wouldn’t give for his bed right then.Uncle Reginald is going to tan my hide for giving in to another one of Eddie’s tantrums.David yawned and tried again to reason with his cousin. “Women can be notoriously difficult to understand, Eddie. Think about your sister. How many serious relationships have you had? This was the first romance I can remember lasting more than four months.”Was it four months?He’d lost count.
“She broke my heart!” Eddie whined as he took a shot of water. The vodka had disappeared nearly as soon as David arrived from Heathrow. “I gave her Cartier jewelry. I took her to Paris, Milan, Berlin… everywhere she asked me. How could she just pack up and leave me for Jerry, the bloody underwear model? Do I not look good enough in just my briefs?” Eddie fumbled with his belt and was gently stopped by David. Eddie wobbled over to David’s chair and plopped down.
“Eddie I’m not even going to touch that question. Here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to go home to your apartment at Kensington Palace and spend the night sobering up. We will rationally discuss all of this after you’re sober. There is no room for negotiation.” David moved next to Eddie, knelt down, and rubbed a few circles on his back.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Eddie’s face took on a slightly green hue as he made a mad dash toward the restrooms, followed discreetly by two of his security officers. David abruptly stood and jumped out of the way. Maybe this time the consequences of too much alcohol would sink in.
David watched as Eddie wildly bumped into several empty tables near the entrance of the room. David winced as empty glasses and ceramic plates shattered to the floor. Oh, bullocks. Of course it would be where Stephen placed the clean dishes.Stephen is going to kill me after Uncle Reginald gets the bill.This was going to be all over the press by evening.
In slow motion he saw Eddie crash into a tiny woman entering the back room, taking her down to the floor with a crash and a crack. David stood, unable to move in a state of shock. “Oh great, Eddie, what have you done now?” The woman wasn’t getting up. Time resumed normal speed. He watched as she just lay there.Focus. Go and check on the lady.David forced himself not to panic and sprinted to the entrance of the room, internally wincing as he stepped on the shards of broken glass and ceramic.
Two members of David’s security detail rushed into the room amidst the chaos. David reached the small woman first and carefully knelt down beside her. Remembering his military training, David knew he needed to check on her breathing first. He was relieved to see her chest moving up and down on its own accord. Her eyes remained firmly shut. David gulped and signaled for the security team to let him take care of this. They knew better than to question his authority.
“I am so sorry, miss. Are you hurt?” he gently asked, hoping she would answer. David’s eyes roamed the woman for any sign of an injury. Something about her features looked so familiar.Where have I seen her before?David wracked his brain.
A steady stream of tears suddenly made their way down the woman’s face. She let out a groan. Her eyes opened. David stared into the most stunning shade of emerald eyes he had ever encountered. He couldn’t look away.
“Urg... my head? Did I just say that out loud?” The woman shifted slightly. She slowly and methodically shimmied up into a sitting position, resting against the nearest wall. David watched her closely. She blinked a few times. Her hand went to her forehead. “Ow,” she exclaimed. David took her hand in his; a jolt of electricity shot through him. Pulling his hand away, David noticed blood on it. He carefully took her hand in his again, this time turning it over. Her forehead was bleeding!
“I need someone to ring Dr. James Evans, now,” he commanded without his attention leaving the woman. David looked around for the closest napkin he could find that was not on the ground. He grabbed one from off a nearby chair.I suppose this will have to do.
“On it, sir!” the closest officer yelled back.
“Miss, I need you to stay still for a moment.” David took the clean napkin and carefully brushed back the dark brown locks at her hairline. “The bleeding isn’t too bad. It looks like a surface scrape.” He was going to kill Eddie for this.
For the firsttime since she had been knocked over, Clara felt more aware of her surroundings. “I think I can take it from here,” she said. “Would you mind helping me to a chair though? I think we’d both be more comfortable if we weren’t sitting on the floor.” Clara took in the sight of the broken dishes.How do I get myself into messes like this? What’s happened to me now? Do I even want to know?
“Better make it slow, though. I’m still a little dizzy.” She felt a strong pair of arms lift her up and place her on one of the few chairs standing upright near her. Clara breathed in the scent of sandalwood and expensive men’s cologne. A soft, navy blue suit jacket slipped over her shoulders. Where had she seen the same shade of blue before? It was on the forefront of her mind. If only she could remember. Clara’s head ached to the point she could not move it. She kept her head down and tried to will away the urge to vomit.
“Miss, I apologize a million and one times for what just happened on behalf of myself and my very immature and irresponsible cousin,” the man softly spoke to her.
“I?… I’m a little dizzy. I think I need a trash can?…”
“The rubbish bin, quickly.” But before one could be brought, she leaned forward and lost the little contents in her stomach all over the navy suit man’s leather shoes. A cool glass of water was placed in front of her as her head slowly made its way to a more upright position. Strong arms supported her once more and assisted her with the drink of water. She focused on the water glass, anywhere but the man’s face.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling so hot,” she muttered. Her cheeks grew warm. Clara couldn’t believe she had just vomited on a man’s shoes. She kept her head down until she was sure the sick feeling was manageable.This is so embarrassing.
