Unavoidable (Royal Affair #1) Read online

  Contents

  i.

  ii.

  iii.

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Afterward

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  UNAVOIDABLE

  (Part One of the Royal Affair Series)

  By

  Amelia Rockwell

  Unavoidable

  Copyright © 2016 Amelia Rockwell

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of Amelia Rockwell.

  This is dedicated to A.D.Y, my real-life Prince Charming.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lucy was nodding off again, the side of her head hitting the limousine window with a resounding thump. She straightened abruptly, rubbing the spot.

  Jeffrey cleared his throat, eying her in his condescending way. As her royal advisor, it was something he was really skilled in: condescension.

  Feeling a little sheepish, she leaned back in the plush seats with a huff. She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress before reaching up to twirl a lock of her chestnut hair around her finger.

  Lucy had never really done well with all of this “princess-y” stuff. Going to finishing school had bored her. Why did it really matter what fork she was using as long as she wasn’t eating with her hands? Poise and posture weren’t going to help her run a country. And it wasn’t as if she could forget who she was. She could count the friends she’d had on one hand. Security detail and constant surveillance really cut down on the amount of people willing to spend time with her.

  Her parents, King Mark and Queen Katherine of Justana, hadn’t even started stressing any of the things she’d learned in finishing school until just recently. It was as though they had simultaneously realized, twenty-two years in, that they were raising a future ruler of the nation. She wanted to blame Jeffrey for their sudden change of strategy, but deep down, she knew they’d been giving her an easy ride. They’d probably realized they needed to step it up if they didn’t want the national currency switched to mp3 credits.

  “Your Highness…” Jeffrey admonished, his tone quickly moving on the spectrum from ‘slightly perturbed’ to ‘annoyed’ in record time. She was well acquainted with all the colors of her royal advisor’s annoyance levels by now. “Please stop fidgeting. You’re due at the boat dedication in twenty minutes.” He glanced at his watch, swearing not-so-silently under his breath. He unbuckled his seatbelt, standing as best he could in a moving limo, and wobbling his way up to the window that separated them from the driver.

  “Stop that fidgeting right now,” Jessica drawled from her laid back position, mimicking Jeffrey’s tone in an almost cartoon-ish manner. Jessica wasn’t Jeffrey’s biggest fan either and she took every opportunity to undermine his authority, or basically turn him into a caricature so Lucy didn’t take his snippy behavior to heart.

  Lucy shot a look of annoyance that she hoped rivaled Jeffrey’s in the direction of her bodyguard-slash-personal assistant. The one who was currently relaxing in her seat because she wasn’t wearing expensive (and uncomfortable) Etrian silk and lace to impress the Etrian royal family coming to witness the boat dedication. Jessica didn’t have to make nice with Prince Kent and Prince Luke or King Adam of Etria for that matter. Because there weren’t a billion titles after Jessica’s name that meant absolutely nothing other than she was born with a silver spoon up her ass.

  Not that Jeffrey wouldn’t try to micromanage Jessica too—that is, if he weren’t completely scared to death of her. That was the reason Lucy loved her.

  “Wouldn’t want to get a crease in your skirt, Princess Lucille.” Jessica’s green eyes twinkled.

  Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “Think there’s any possible way I can rush through this?”

  Jessica tossed her red hair over her shoulder and snorted, “Let’s see…the coordinators want you to do a reading in Latin, bust a bottle of champagne and shake a bunch of hands. It’s The Sofia. Justana’s been waiting two years and change for this patriotic piece of crap to finally be sea-worthy. You’re gonna be there for two—three hours at LEAST.”

  Lucy groaned, sinking down further in her seat. Let her dress get creases. Let it get wrinkles. Let the people of Justana see their princess for what she truly was: a giant butt crease on the back of a silk skirt. Their future leader was a butt crease.

  Maybe no one would be paying attention with that fifteen hundred foot luxury liner right behind her. It was enough an eyesore that they might not notice the princess’ disheveled dress.

  Or her hair-twirling.

  Or her poor posture.

  She was doomed.

  Jessica glanced up to where Jeffrey was still arguing with the driver. She snapped her fingers in Lucy’s direction. “Look alive, look alive…”

  Lucy righted herself quickly, ever thankful for Jessica. She’d been skeptical about her at first; Lucy didn’t dig the round-the-clock surveillance that her father seemed to think she needed. But Jessica turned out to be a lifeline in her lonely existence. Someone who treated her as an equal and not bowing and scraping because Lucy was somehow “higher” than they were. Jessica treated her like a friend. Even if it wasn’t true, it was nice to pretend. Lucy got so sick of the hopeful smiles she received when anyone did something for her, like they were expecting a pat on the shoulder or probably more. Jess did almost everything for her and didn’t expect a thing from Lucy in return. Except for the paycheck, of course.

  Lucy wasn’t sure how much the powers that paid were compensating Jessica, but she figures it was substantial. Jessica was with her 24/7 with the exception of the two days a month when they both got to do whatever they wanted. Lucy would like to say she really lived it up on the two days a month where she wasn’t constantly watched…but she didn’t. Sadly, Jessica was the only “friend-like” person in her life.

  Not to mention, Lucy just wasn’t the type to go out and party. She didn’t think she’d “partied” a day in her life. Not even in college. She’d spent most of her time studying. Even when she dated, it was all very innocent. In every possible connotation of the word. Every. Possible. Connotation.

  And the older she got, the more difficult it was to put herself out there, especially since most of the men she dated ended up disappearing around the third date or so. Lucy attributed it to her birthright. Regardless of what mainstream media would have one believe, dating a princess wasn’t always glamorous. It apparently wasn’t for everyone. Lucy couldn’t say she blamed any of them.

  Jessica was wonderful, on the other hand.

  It was thanks to Jessica that Lucy got to have some small illusion of freedom. She kept watch when Lucy wanted to slump in her chair, watch trashy television, or play on her phone. Seriously, why did she have a phone if she couldn’t play games on it? And since when did being a princess mean she couldn’t have any fun?

  Since always, apparently. At least if Jeffrey Smithe had anything to say about it.

  The Smithes had been advising the Pagett line for generations in Justana, keeping each monarch as flavorful as white bread with mayo and keeping the country normal as possible, where normal meant as dull as dishwater.

  Lucy nearly fell asleep anyt
ime she thought about the history of her lineage. Who could possibly blame her for wanting to spice it up a little? And if having a creased dress was considered ‘spicy’, well…SNORE.

  Jeffrey finally returned to his seat. “I’ve ordered the driver to hurry. We can’t be late to the boat dedication.”

  “Oh good god, no. What would people think?” Jessica exclaimed in feigned distress. Lucy stifled a giggle.

  Jeffrey wasn’t amused. “Sarcasm is the basest of all humor,” he muttered to Lucy with a nod, as if they were aligned in their opinions of Jessica’s statement, partners in their disdain of low humor. As if Lucy wasn’t thinking up a million more sarcastic things to say to her dumpy advisor.

  Instead, she bit her tongue and stared out the window.

  She and Jess had bets about the nature and species of bug living in the deep recesses of Jeffrey’s rear end.

  The streets of Tinerly, Justana’s capital, whizzed by. Some of them new to her eyes. Twenty-two years old and she still hadn’t gone to the city’s market district. That wasn’t a ‘sensible’ thing for a future ruler of Justana to spend her time doing. Even though, that had never made sense to her. If she was going to rule the nation, shouldn’t she well, know something about Justana? About her people? Surely her father had visited every part of their small country.

  Lucy filed that away as a topic she’d discuss with him at a later date. It wouldn’t do any good to bring it up to Jeffrey.

  She had some solace, at least, in her father’s company. She wasn’t alone in her dislike of the Smithes. She’d seen her father roll his eyes comically behind his own advisor’s back. His advisor, Michael Smithe, was somehow more of a pretentious tight-ass than his son, Jeffrey. In that respect, she had a kindred spirit in Papa.

  She’d often asked her father why they didn’t just fire the Smithes. No one appeared to like them. His answer was always the same: “Well, Lucy…if we fire them, how will we know what the people truly want from us? Our advisors help us make informed decisions. Without them, we’d have to do all the work ourselves.”

  And as to why it had to be the Smithes? His answer was even more infuriating. “It’s always been the Smithes, Lucy.”

  She still entertained the fantasy of firing Jeffrey and knocking him out of the palace on his designer-suit-covered butt. That fantasy was one of her favorites.

  Lucy swayed with the limo. She glanced out the window, trying to discern where the driver was going. It looked like he was taking a shortcut to the harbor through the back streets of downtown Tinerly. Lucy was trying to figure out exactly which back streets when she was thrown forward as the driver slammed on the brakes. Her seat-belt kept her from spilling into the floor in a mess of rumpled silk and limbs.

  Jeffrey, on the other hand, was not buckled, so Sir-Stuck-Up was now in the floor. It would have been funny, except the driver was yelling about something and getting out of the vehicle, walking around to the front.

  “What happened?” Lucy asked no one in particular. It was just something that was said in situations like these.

  “I think he hit someone,” Jessica murmured, barely audible.

  Lucy’s blood ran cold. “What?! Oh my god! I hope they’re alright.” She reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt.

  “Let me go. I’ll assess the damage.” Jessica rose and opened the door, closing it firmly behind her. She was probably going out to make sure whoever it was wasn’t smeared all over the pavement and it was safe for the princess to come out. Which was absolutely fine with Lucy. She might want to know more about her people, but she didn’t need to know what anyone’s insides looked like, thanks.

  “Your Highness, you should let me handle this,” Jeffrey ‘suggested’ in a voice that sounded more commanding than anything else. As much as she wanted to let him, she felt it should be her who confronted whoever-it-was they’d struck. She might not be as up to date on her politics and policies as she should be, but she knew enough to know that the Pagetts weren’t exactly on the short list of favorite royal families. It would do their image well if she handled this personally.

  For some reason, the Smithes never seemed to agree. This was no exception.

  Lucy’s stomach was in knots as he scrambled to his knees, pulling his keys out of his pocket and reaching under one of the seats with them. He produced a zippered pouch. The zippered pouch of bribe money. They usually kept it for the police, if they got pulled over for speeding or for the border patrol when they were country-hopping.

  “No, let me out to apologize—given that there’s still someone to apologize to,” Lucy insisted.

  They’d hit someone with the limo, for crying out loud! Couldn’t Jeffrey see that there wasn’t any way to just throw money at this and make it go away? They weren’t above the law. Even if her family technically had the last say in writing them.

  Jeffrey shook his head. “Absolutely not. We’re late enough as it is. I’ll handle this, Princess Lucille.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll handle it. It’s my limo that hit them.”

  Jessica opened the door. “Bicycle courier. He’s fine. Bike’s totaled, though.”

  Jeffrey nodded tersely, pulling a handful of cash out of the pouch and replacing the remaining money where he’d found it. He made his way to the door amid Lucy’s protests.

  She grabbed his sleeve. “I need to be in touch with the people in the kingdom if I’m ever going to rule it. There’s a guy out there who deserves an apology from me and…”

  Jeffrey responded by yanking his sleeve out of her grasp. “And he’s going to get it,” he said, his tone made it sound like a warning. “By proxy. Because we’re late. No. More. Arguments.” He straightened his jacket. “Your Highness,” he added at the end, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him.

  Lucy scrambled over to the window to try to see what was going on.

  She spied the courier out on the sidewalk, nursing a badly skinned knee.

  He had brown hair that looked short at first, but when he turned to the side, Lucy realized he had it pulled back into a ponytail. A short ponytail, but a ponytail nonetheless.

  He was wearing a gray shirt embroidered with the Justana Delivery Service (JDS) logo and khaki shorts that she recognized as a uniform. When she craned her neck, she could just make out his bike behind him. The front was bent at a ninety-degree angle. There was sweat dripping down the courier’s temples and his hands were shaking.

  He looked up harshly just then, seemingly right at her. She nearly dipped down before she realized that he couldn’t see her through the heavily-tinted windows.

  Lucy peered at him thoughtfully. He could be described as handsome. Wavy brown hair. Blue eyes. His physique was certainly enviable. Probably due to all that bike-riding. He had a narrow waist and broad shoulders. Since he was wearing shorts, she could see that his calves were very muscular. It would make sense to assume his thighs were as well.

  He was very angry looking though. His brow was furrowed, his face red. That part wasn’t attractive in the least.

  She checked herself, though. He had every right to be pissed off. He’d just been hit with her car for god’s sake.

  Jeffrey extended his hand, closing the wad of cash into the courier’s. The courier looked down at it like he’d just been given a handful of skunks to dispose of rather than a significant amount of currency. He wrinkled his nose and visibly spat out words in her advisor’s direction. Likely something crude, given the hand gesture that followed as he pocketed the cash and stood up.

  She caught sight of his name, Dylan, embroidered on his shirt.

  Even as he uttered what was likely a well-deserved insult in Jeffrey’s direction, she could see something else there. Something in his eyes. That familiar look of someone being pulled under by a current they couldn’t fight. She saw that look a lot when she peered into the mirror.

  Jeffrey had a way of taking situations and running with them without giving thought to anyone else. Giving no options, just scenarios
he’d already decided on. It was infuriating.

  Lucy made up her mind. She simply couldn’t just stand—or sit—by and let this happen. She was the princess. If she wanted to speak to one of her subjects, who was Jeffrey Smithe to tell her differently?

  She shot Jessica a defiant look and reached for the door handle. The limo door swung open and she stepped out, her shoe scraping slightly on the sidewalk as she planted it firmly on the ground.

  Jeffrey whipped around to face her, the look in his eyes gave him the appearance of a man dangling over a precipice and scrabbling for purchase. It was a good look for him. “Your HIGHNESS…I have everything under control, there’s no need—”

  “I would like to apologize, Jeffrey,” she said adamantly. She’d have to hear about this later, but for now? She was in charge. And she knew it. She was going to take advantage of it.

  She smoothed down the front of her skirt and extended her hand towards the courier. “I’m very sorry this happened, sir.”

  He stared at her, his blue eyes wide with surprise. He obviously hadn’t known she was the one in the limo. His hand came out slowly, grasping hers. It was warm, calloused in places. It completely engulfed her own.

  “I’m Lucy,” she said with a smile. “And you are…Dylan?” She nodded towards the front of his shirt.

  “Yes…yes, I’m Dylan. Dylan Walder.” He was still holding her hand, staring intently at her face in disbelief.

  “Well, Mr. Walder, please don’t hesitate to contact me if there’s anything else you need.”

  “My…bike…?” He glanced down at the twisted ball of metal.

  “Oh! Right. I suppose it’s your livelihood, isn’t it?”

  “I gave him ten thousand notes,” Jeffrey’s voice hissed in her ear.

  “Ten thousand. Of course.” She held her hand out behind her. It must not have been enough to cover the cost of the bike. Shame on Jeffrey for short-changing this poor fellow. “Jess, could you hand me my purse?”