Sunshine pierced my eyes and I quickly shut them again to block it out. I felt like death warmed over. The gears of my mind whirled into action slowly, but they were getting there, creaking with each turn, as I tried to remember what had happened. I felt like I had a hangover. But couldn't understand or remember why.

Snuggling deeper into the sheets a little more, I was surprised by the smell of the pillowcase under my head, not my typical flowery fabric softener but more of a neutral clean scent. The kind you’d find in a hotel or… Oh no.

With a cry, I sat up quickly. Too quickly. Pain spiked through my skull as if I’d just been hit over the head with a sledgehammer.

Cautiously I cracked an eyelid and fought back the nausea that had risen to the surface with the sudden movement.

This was not my bedroom.

This was not my bed.

And these were most definitely not my sheets.

My stomach rolled and all thought of where I was flew out the window. The only thing on my mind was finding the bathroom. It was either that or ruining these very expensive sheets. I hurried out of the bed, hunched over and magically found my way into a pristine bathroom.

It was a few minutes before I could pull myself off the marble tiled floor and wash my face in the sink with cold water. My gaze in the mirror focused in on what I was wearing. I still had my dress on. Thank goodness. A quick check told me that all of my other clothing was still in the right places and I let out a huge sigh of relief. The only things that were missing were my small handbag and my shoes.

Although pleased that I hadn’t done anything stupid, there was a tiny smidgen of disappointment that contradicted that very notion. Maybe I should do something stupid once in a while, take a page out of William’s book, perhaps.

Will.

I froze and stared at my reflection. Slivers of the previous night started to return. And it dawned upon me that I’d dodged a bullet. If I had let myself lose control even more than I already had then I could’ve ended up in bed with my boss. The prince. Oh God. The thought didn’t bear thinking about; that would’ve been career suicide right there.

Then more of the previous day flittered back into my memory, like an unwelcome raven coming to deliver bad news. Him asking me to bend over, his finger slipping into my mouth. His hand in my hand, the feel of him caressing my waist. Touching my hair. Fuck. I didn’t think those images were dreams. I might not have shagged him but… what I had done while drunk still remained to be seen and could still have a very real effect upon my job.

With a sigh I eased out of the bathroom slightly unsteady on my feet and my head pounding horribly, wondering what I was going to say, how I was going to apologise. This had been such a bad idea; it was unprofessional.

Knuckling the sleep from my eyes I studied the bed. Based on what I saw—one side was a little ruffled and the other side had the covers still on and flat—I concluded that I’d slept alone. Which meant I’d kicked Prince William out of his own bed… or he’d put me in some kind of guest room. I didn’t even remember climbing in it in the first place. This day was not starting off very well at all. Where the hell was I?

For the first time I glanced up and took in my surroundings, noting the adequate but small space. It was a little cramped for it to be a part of Will’s rooms, so I didn’t think he’d taken me to Durham House.

I stopped short just as I was about to wander into the next room. I had to blink a few times before I understood what I was seeing.

Up on one of the bedroom walls, which I thought at first was just some bizarre art piece, actually turned out to be what looked like implements of torture. My mouth dropped open. Unable to stop myself as I took a closer look and stepped forward, my hand reaching out to touch the soft leather tendrils of… I didn’t know what. A whip?

Were these Will’s? They couldn’t be… could they?

Seriously, where the fuck was I?

“Sophie?” I heard a man’s voice call, a whisper coming from the other room, and my hand instantly dropped to my side. “Are you awake?”

It was Prince William. I would recognise his smooth low timbre anywhere.

I covered my mouth and debated what to do. I knew I couldn’t hide out in the medieval torture room, but facing him was something I equally did not want to do.

“Sophie?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m awake,” I croaked, resigning myself to my fate and followed the sound of his voice.

I entered what looked to be a small sitting room. There was a blanket draped over the sofa, and cushions that had been propped up. Presumably this was where he’d slept.

“In here,” he called.

Eventually I found him in a small but well stocked kitchen and I found myself halting again. Frozen.

Will stood with his back to me. His broad shoulders were full of sculpted muscle. I swallowed and let the impromptu shiver run its course through my body. From the back he was just as sexy, right down to his tight bum that was encased in his black suit trousers. I was surprised to see a tattoo on his right shoulder, and edged forward to see if I could make it out. A tattoo. Why was I not surprised?

He turned and saw me. A grin spread over his handsome face. “Good morning, Sunshine. How do you feel?”

“Like death,” I responded, my mouth feeling as thick as cotton. “I, uh, I don’t usually do that. Though I don’t exactly remember what that was.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing and I don’t have any videos that will be leaked online later today proving otherwise. Those I’ll be keeping in my private collection.”

My face paled. “Videos?”

He saw my reaction and almost immediately held up his hands. “No, I’m sorry. I was only teasing.”

“So there’s no videos? You promise?”

“I promise. Sorry, I was just trying to be funny.” He coughed and looked away, a little sheepishly for him which I thought was a bit unusual. Then he added, “Would you like some coffee? Or tea? There’s plenty of options and I can make you anything you like… I know how to boil water.”

I smiled but my stomach revolted at the thought of drinking anything and I wrapped an arm around it, thinking I would be delicate for some time.

“No thanks. I need to go home. By the way… Where are we?”

“You need to eat something too to soak up all those shots,” he replied, ignoring my question. Was he deliberately trying to be evasive, or did he just not want to talk about it? He busied himself again and picked up a steaming mug then pushed it across the counter, along with a medication bottle. “And take a few of these. They will help with the pain. Unless you fancy a hair of the dog?”

“Thanks, these will do just fine,” I said gratefully and reached over with a shaky hand to take the meds. Reluctantly I took a few sips of the coffee to wash the headache tablet down.

“Better?” he asked, his gaze never leaving me. It was like he was constantly studying me. As if he was worried I might disappear if he looked away for just one second.

“A little,” I added cautiously, watching him watch me. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a problem last night.”

He shrugged, his eyes still laser focused. “A regular party animal you were… Happens all the time, I’m accustomed to dealing with it.” He winced as he realised what he’d said. “That came out wrong…”

“It’s ok,” I said trying to be consolatory. But really his words had dinged me a little. The thought that drunk women that he had to take care of was a common occurrence for him caused a deep anger inside me to wake. A monster… with green eyes. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“But you’re really going to have to tell me where the hell we are.”

“Oh, right, yeah.”

“And why the hell there are weird things on the wall in the bedroom.”

“You saw those, huh?”

“Hard to miss.”

A cheeky smile graced his face and his mischievous blue eyes sparkled. “Well, I could show you if like.”

Finally Will shared with me where we were exactly; still in the club, but above it in one out of the twelve suites that were at the members’ disposal. I nodded as he explained and put two and two together, thinking I was making four, that of course those things hanging up belonged to the club and not Will himself.

But then he dropped a bomb.

“This is my regular suite.”

“Yours?”

He nodded and felt my eyes going incredibly wide.

“So… you’re into—” I hid behind my coffee cup and foolishly tried to take a sip, but instead spluttered when he interrupted me.

“Some kinky shit? Would that bother you?”

“I—” I shook my head, cautioning myself to be diplomatic. It didn’t matter what he got up to in the bedroom. “No. I don’t know. It’s none of my business.” He was about to add something but I quickly changed the subject. “What time is it?”

“Relax, we have some time.”

“No, Will, seriously, what time is it?”

“Just past eight.”

“We have to go. You have an appointment that you can’t miss.”

He groaned but I suddenly remembered our little bargain, pleased that my drinking hadn’t obliterated that certain memory.

“You promised. You made a deal.”

He smiled, easing my worry slightly. “I’m not backing out of our deal. I’m a man of my word. Mind you, I’m surprised you can ever remember it after the amount you knocked back. But that’s beside the point—just because I’m going through with this little charade doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“So you’re just gonna be a miserable bastard?” I teased as I backed out of the kitchen to try to find my shoes and belongings, hoping he’d had to foresight to bring my bag.

“Pretty much,” he laughed.

I spotted my bag and my heels beside a lounge chair in the sitting room part of the suite, and felt a warm glow at his thoughtfulness. His suit jacket was draped over the arm too. I slipped my heels on, picked up my bag then gathered his jacket into my arms ready to give to him after he’d put his shirt on.

He already had one arm slipping into his shirt when all of a sudden something hit my leg. It was a soft blow, but the edge of whatever it was had lightly scraped my shin. I bent down to investigate and found an envelope resting by my foot. It must’ve fallen out of his jacket. I was about to slip it back in when I saw the thick red circle-like blob.

A royal red wax seal, that was cracked, adorned the back. I flipped the thing over and gasped as I saw the familiar handwriting. Frederick’s penmanship. There was no doubt about it. He had a distinctive way of curling the ends of his Ws, making them look ornate with a simple flick of his pen.

The postmark was recent too, I noted. Stamped clearly in the top right hand corner with the date I would never forget. Friday April 7^th. The day Frederick left for his trip.

“Sir, what’s this?”

It looked personal and though I was tasked with opening his mail on an everyday basis, I didn’t dare look inside this one I’d found. That didn’t mean I wasn’t curious though.

He looked up from his task of buttoning his shirt and saw what I held in my hand.

“Nothing,” he replied, coldly. He marched over and took it from me. I gave it up willingly, of course; it wasn’t mine to keep or read. But something about his reaction had me analysing the importance of the letter.

“That’s Frederick’s handwriting.”

“So?”

“So, did he send you something before…” I trailed off, unable to finish.

“Obviously.” All warmth had left Will’s tone. With his top three buttons of his shirt still undone, he pulled his jacket on and made the envelope disappear into his inside pocket.

“What did he say?” I asked, knowing full well I needed to tread carefully.

“Get your things, we’re leaving.”

“William…”

“Leave it, Sophie. I mean it.”

William barely spoke to me during the ride to the office. I thought we’d made some progress the night before, but now it was like he’d shut down. And I had a sinking feeling it was all to do with the contents of that letter. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

After arriving at the office and making sure William was sorted for the day I was summoned to the queen’s private rooms. For a second when the note arrived I mistakenly thought it was for William and only addressed to me since I took care of his calendar. But Will’s name wasn’t present on the cream-coloured paper. Just mine.

I swallowed as I sat on the antique chair carefully and pulled at the hem of my black dress, my head still pounding despite the fortified tea, laced with sugar and the tablets I’d knocked back. Even a bland piece of toast didn’t help to settle my stomach. I hadn’t even had the chance to go home and change; I didn’t have time if I wanted to keep on schedule, but threw on a cardigan I had in my drawer. And it was a good thing I didn’t go home, otherwise I would’ve been very late for the impromptu meeting with Queen Beatrice.

That however didn’t make me feel any better since I was sitting in her presence in a day old dress that I knew had to be wrinkled all up the back. I was sure smelled of booze too. One look from her stern pale blue eyes and I felt uneasy, like she could see right through me and knew exactly what I’d been up to the night before with her son. Not that anything had happened… but if she knew that I’d gotten so wasted and that Will, a prince, her son, had to put me to bed in a drunken state, then I would be mortified. And possibly fired.

I was sitting across the from the Queen Consort of England, who looked very regal in her customary royal blue suit. Blue was most definitely her colour and complimented her eyes and porcelain skin. The first time I’d met her I’d been star struck and unable to even get a word out, but gradually in her presence over the last three years I had learned to dim the nerves, and grown accustomed to her and the entire royal family. If I had learned anything about my time here, I’d learned that they were just a normal family with normal problems. Drama around every corner, too.

However on occasions like this, summoned without warning, my nerves spiked to unimaginable levels. I could only pray she didn’t know about the club, last night, and oh God the kinky implements that had hung in William’s suite.

Shit. Think of something else, I told myself hastily, but the more I tried the more I blushed at thought of Will using the items I’d seen. Handcuffing or tying someone up, possibly to the bed I’d slept in, bending them to his will… Soon the faceless woman I imagined began to take on my own features in my mind’s eye, until finally I saw myself, begging at Will’s knees.

“Are you quite alright dear? You look a little flushed.”

My head snapped up and focused in on the queen. “I’m fine, thank you, Your Majesty,” I croaked. I gave a few subtle coughs to try to regain myself and my voice.

The queen put down the papers she’d been reviewing and folded her hands on her dainty desk, her perceptive eyes regarding me, and I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of doubt. But she pressed on regardless.

“Sophie, thank you for coming. You are probably wondering why I wanted to see you. It’s not often we get to speak.”

“I am certainly intrigued, Ma’am. Is there anything I can help you with?” I said with a slight submissive nod.

“I will be brutally honest with you. I’m worried about my son William.”

“Ma’am?” I asked, surprised.

She sighed, something coming over her expression that was akin to sympathy. “I am aware that you have spoken to His Majesty already about this, but as his mother I can’t help but worry. It’s early days, but how are you progressing? William is not at all like Frederick, as you may already know. He will need constant supervision to keep him on the right track. You will need to be firm with him. I trust that you can bring him up to snuff?”

“I… yes, I can,” I answered, hoping that I wouldn’t get exiled for lying to the queen if I couldn’t. “It’s not an easy task, admittedly, but I’m trying. Slowly we will get there and I will not give up. I’ve also managed to get William onside, promising to adhere to his schedule this week. He’s willing to give it a go, Ma’am.”

“Good,” she said, a smile on her face. “Frederick gave you some high remarks before his passing, Sophie. Spoke the world of you and your abilities. It’s not surprising of course, considering your mother’s reputation. The Duchess, my sister, adores her.”

I thought about my mum, how she had worked her way up to be the private secretary to the queen’s sister, Duchess of Dorset. Not a bad word was ever spoken about her position, which was one of the reasons I wanted to follow in her footsteps. When I was little, Mum’s job seemed like the grandest position in all of England and though I had struggled initially, I still felt the same way. I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the royal treasury.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” I said. “I will pass along your compliments the next time I speak with her.”

Getting back to business she leaned forward, eyeing me with a stern, no nonsense expression. “Make sure William is successful, Sophie. We need this to work. The country needs stability. Whatever you must do to make that happen, do not hesitate to see it through. You will have my full backing. I want to see him surpass everyone’s expectations.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said softly.

She nodded. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other. You’re dismissed.”

Taking the long way around, I left her office and walked toward Will’s, my stomach churning for an entirely different reason now. I needed time to digest the full extent of her words. First the king, now the queen had personally asked me to make their son a success. It felt like I had the weight of the country on my shoulders. The pressure was immense. And I wasn’t quite sure if I had it in me to pull it off.

If Robert had been next in line and I’d been put in the same position, I knew I wouldn’t have had a problem. He was an army man, used to taking orders he didn’t like. But William, he was an unknown quantity, known from birth as the spare, who’d been allowed to get away with practically everything throughout his entire life. Was it any wonder he was resistant to his life changing? And feeling just a little pissed off about it.

Regardless, the task was a tall order, one that should’ve had me wanting to run for the hills. What if I wasn’t successful? What if I didn’t live up to the entire family’s expectations? It was a frightening thought. Yet there was something about William that I couldn’t quite put my finger on that had me believing it could be possible. And if he just took a leap of faith, risked a chance of giving it go, then we’d be halfway there.

Straightening my shoulders, I sped up, anxious to get started on the new week. There was a fire in my belly now. I turned the hallway corner and ran smack into a solid wall of muscle, hands gripping my bare upper arms lightly. “Whoa, where’s the rush?”

I looked up and saw the laughing eyes of the man on my mind, feeling his warm touch upon my skin. My breath caught as his expression changed, his eyes growing darker, his fingers tightening on my arms.

“You came back,” I said breathlessly, thinking of his earlier moodiness and the unlikeliness of him returning to the office after the first meeting of the day.

“A promise is a promise. I told you I would,” he responded, his hands not leaving me immediately. I found myself wanting to lean into his embrace like when I’d stumbled into him the night before. Him holding me up with his strong arms, a protective circle wrapped around me. “I thought you had a little more faith in me that that?”

His voice was soft and thick with emotion, like he was waiting on my answer as if I was his last lifeline, someone to believe in him. Did he not know how many people in his own family wanted to see him succeed?

“Of course, I knew you would come back and not skip out,” I said, fibbing a little, stepping out of his arms to break the connection between us. Why did my heart speed up every time he touched me? “After all, you would’ve owed me if you hadn’t.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression more of a dirty smirk than a grin. “See, now that sounds more appealing. Maybe I should skip out on my word so I can see exactly what I would owe you.”

“Don’t you dare,” I replied, grinning like a fool.