A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember

Told you, came Amelia’s stern British voice in her head, so crystal clear that Annie actually turned around and looked for the woman.

No one.

Annie shook her head. This wasn’t the time to debate her sanity.

“Oh, you royals.” Sharise laughed again. “I know how busy you are, and how many assistants you all have. I guess you never got around to reading about all the wicked fun we’re going to have.”

Wicked fun? Oh, boy.

“But someone picked out something for you to give Lissa.” Sharise opened her own bag and lifted out a filmy white teddy that absolutely would not cover the essentials, and a matching “robe” that would only enhance the deficit. The matching slippers were white satin, four inches minimum, and fur topped. “This outfit is from me. Pretty, don’t you think?”

Yeah, if one was a virgin sacrifice. “Well-”

“You should see the one Lissa has to wear tonight. It’s this pink little number, and…”

“Looks like Little Bo Peep? Does it match the bridesmaid dresses?”

Sharise frowned. “Don’t you like the bridesmaid dresses?”

Oh, dear Lord. “Sharise, you don’t by any chance have any aspirin, do you?”

Sharise laughed. “Like I said, you’re very funny. Show me what was picked out for you to model.”

Annie looked into the bag and saw black. Black shiny vinyl. Black vinyl straps that couldn’t possibly cover anything important.

“Oooh,” Sharise breathed. “Very naughty. And check out those boots at the bottom of the bag.”

Which were also vinyl with stiletto heels nearly five inches high.

“Can’t wait to see that, a sweet little princess all decked out in dominatrix gear.” Sharise tossed her head back and laughed.

“I’m not going to wear this.” Whatever it was.

Sharise sobered. “Oh, but you have to. It’s all part of the fun, you’ll ruin it if you don’t. Please?”

“Sharise-”

“I’d better come with you,” Sharise decided, taking her arm, leading her to the bathroom. “I can’t have you chickening out.”

Chickening out? Is that what they’d think? Annie never chickened out, never. Two incredibly competitive sisters had made sure of that. Besides, she did have the kick-ass lingerie, shouldn’t that make her feel a little better?

Sharise tried to go in the bathroom with her. “I’ve got it handled,” Annie said, blocking the way.

“You might need some help getting it on.” Obviously Sharise wasn’t sure Annie would do it.

But Princess Andrea Katrine Fran Brunner of Grunberg didn’t chicken out of anything. She peeked into the bag again and felt a little faint. Damn it, Natalia, this should have been you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Sharise said doubtfully. “But call me if you need help.”

“Call you. Got it.” Annie shut the bag and tried not to picture how bad it could be. Whatever it was, she had the feeling she’d rather wear the Little Bo Peep bridesmaid dress for the rest of her life.

IT WAS A SURPRISE all right, the kind that provoked heart attacks. Stunned, Annie could only stare at herself in the mirror. Her frown made the entire getup that much scarier.

“Annie, hurry!” came Sharise’s voice from the other side of the bathroom door. She’d been knocking every two minutes for twenty minutes now. “We’re starting the games.”

“Oh, yippee.” Annie took once last shocked look at herself and opened the door to the virgin-sacrifice Sharise. “Don’t want to miss the games.”

Sharise’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Holy smokes.”

“What?” Was it worse than she thought?

“You look…wow.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just do this.” Annie started to walk past the white-lace teddy-covered Sharise, then reached back for the whip on the counter. With a grim smile, she stalked out of the bathroom.

Sharise just shook her head. “Honey, don’t take this wrong, but you have the best ass I’ve ever seen.”

Annie tripped over the stupid heels and nearly broke her ankle. “That’s just because it’s hanging out.”

“That it certainly is.”

At their arrival in the front room, the small group of lingerie-clad women all stopped talking and clapped. Lissa got up, dressed in what indeed looked like underwear Little Bo Peep would have chosen for herself.

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. How come yours covers all your parts?”

Lissa laughed. “Don’t worry, my parts aren’t nearly as fabulous as yours. I just hope I look half as good as you when I put that on for Kevin.”

She was going to actually wear this for her soon-to-be husband. Annie looked down at herself. She wore a black vinyl thong-which brought new meaning to the word uncomfortable-and a black vinyl crop top that barely covered her nipples. The black garters and stockings-complete with seams down the backs of her legs-and the shiny, high boots, only added to the effect.

Then there was the impressive whip she held in her hand. “You’re going to put this…this outfit on for Kevin?”

Lisa eyed the whip and waggled her eyebrows. “Of course.”

Annie had had a hard enough time putting it on for the women to gawk at her. It was beyond her fathomable imagination to picture putting it on for a man. “In the daylight?”

Sharise laughed. “Annie, you are so funny.”

Annie was beginning to dislike that statement. These people were insane. She hadn’t come to New Mexico, she’d come to the twilight zone.

Feeling quite bare in the behind, as every little breath brushed air against her far-too-exposed butt, Annie was relieved to sit on the couch so the games could begin.

Her relief was short-lived.

“The first game is called Rate The Stud,” Sharise called out happily.

Sure, why shouldn’t she be happy, she had a robe to cover all her parts.

To play, they all had to stand up, face Lissa, and tell her a studly thing about her soon-to-be husband.

Annie decided right then and there she needed a break. Actually, she needed air. Quickly, quietly, she escaped to the patio. No one followed her, and she felt like a death-row inmate granted immunity. Having been told the men were all out of the way for the night, she walked to the railing without fear of being discovered, leaned over and dragged in some air.

The wedding was tomorrow. Marriage. Commitment.

Forever.

Words she’d thought about in a vague sense, but had never really applied to any of her relationships so far. How could they when just by being herself-a rather opinionated, strong-willed woman, that is-she always scared men away?

If truth be told, she wanted a man to love her to distraction. She wanted a man who didn’t care what she looked like in the most horrendous shade of pink that ever existed. She wanted a man who’d go out of his way to please her, even if it meant having a really stupid bachelor-bachelorette party.

She wanted a man to want her-not her title or her bank account-but her, Annie, the woman.

From inside came the sound of cheers, and Annie knew they must be doing the promised fashion show. She couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t.

Driven by these shaky emotions, that she couldn’t have explained to save her life, Annie moved into the shadows and walked the length of the balcony. She’d just go back inside via the next room over and sneak up to her room.

Simple.

Only nothing in her life was simple. The next room, which looked like a den, was dark.

And locked.

The room after that, possibly a library, was also locked.

And so was the next.

And the next.