Sequel: Adoring William ›
Status: Complete.
Loving Henry
Understanding
Saturday, 12 March 2011.
Cape Royale Luxury Hotel.
The elevator.
“If it bothers you so much, then please call me Henry,” the prince suggested after a few minutes.
I just mumbled an okay and then went back to studying the patterns on the carpet. The next thing I know, he bursts out laughing.
When I looked at him, he just shrugged and said, “I just can’t believe that I am stuck in a lift with a beautiful woman, discussing my name. Normal people try to get me to divulge family secrets or something to that extent.”
I blushed ten shades of red, whether because he called me beautiful or the opposite of normal, I don’t know. Probably both.
“Fine, then what would you like to discuss that’s so normal?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Tell me a bit about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-one in January,” I replied.
“What’s your last name?”
“Temple.”
“Your last name is Temple? That’s a weird surname.”
“At least I have a last name.” As a British prince, Harry… uh, Henry, doesn’t hold a surname.
Instead he takes on the area over which his father holds title as a last name. When his platoon refers to him, they call him Lieutenant Wales. Even though he belongs to the house of Mountbatten-Windsor. It’s confusing to me as well.
“True. But then I have four names.”
“Yes, yes, we’re all impressed,” I smiled and he smiled back. He had a nice smile. Warm and genuine. The smiles I receive from my father are usually forced.
“So, when did you get here?” I asked.
“This morning. I was supposed to have been here three days ago, but I had to wait for some results.”
“Results on what?”
“Oh, um, two days ago I found out that I had passed my Apache flying test. There was a ceremony and everything. I am now part of the army Air Corps’.”
“Wow, that’s cool. Congratulations. Apache is some kind of attack helicopter, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, how’d you know? Never mind, that question was sexist, I’m actually hoping to be promoted to Captain sometime soon.”
“I’m impressed. I’ve always admired the fact that you chose to be on the front lines instead of staying at home like a nancy boy.”
He laughed, “thanks. I still can’t believe that you called my brother Willy. I have to remember that. It will annoy the hell out of him.”
I gave a shy smile. I’m glad that I didn’t offend him too much, but I think he might be a nice guy that forgives easily.
An easy flow of conversation started and we just didn’t stop. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with whom I could converse so easily.
He had a sweetness to him that I was definitely unaccustomed to. Having grown up in my father’s corporate world, I knew only coldness.
“When my mother died, my father completely threw himself into his work and I was raised by nannies. Suffice it to say that we didn’t have a lot of father-daughter moments.”
“How did your mother die?” he asked kindly.
“Oh, breast cancer. I was eight. It lead to a lot of awkward talks with an embarrassed nanny, when I reached my teenage years. I’d tried asking my father about these things, but he only choked on his whiskey and the next day the nanny explained it to me,” I took off the locket that I always wore around my neck and handed it to him. “This was my mother’s. The picture inside is of her and me as a baby.”
He opened it and looked at it for a long time, before giving it back.
“I’m sorry, Gabrielli. I know what it’s like.”
“Thanks, I’m sorry too. Not a lot of people understand what it’s like,” I gave a sigh and fastened the chain around my neck.
“She’s really beautiful, your mother. You look a lot like her,” he said, probably trying to change the subject.
I gave a wistful smile, “Thank you. I actually think that might be why my father doesn’t like spending time with me. I probably remind him of her," I thought for a minute and then said, "You know, he’s never had another girlfriend or remarried. I’m not saying he’s chaste. I’ve seen him with enough hookers over the years to know that he doesn’t lack for companionship in that department.”
“They couldn’t all have been hookers…”
“None of them were, but I like to refer to them that way,” I grinned, “it makes me feel better.”
“Oh, well, whatever gets you through the day, I guess…” he winked at me and I felt like he really understood me.
I don’t think anyone has ever understood me before.
Cape Royale Luxury Hotel.
The elevator.
“If it bothers you so much, then please call me Henry,” the prince suggested after a few minutes.
I just mumbled an okay and then went back to studying the patterns on the carpet. The next thing I know, he bursts out laughing.
When I looked at him, he just shrugged and said, “I just can’t believe that I am stuck in a lift with a beautiful woman, discussing my name. Normal people try to get me to divulge family secrets or something to that extent.”
I blushed ten shades of red, whether because he called me beautiful or the opposite of normal, I don’t know. Probably both.
“Fine, then what would you like to discuss that’s so normal?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Tell me a bit about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-one in January,” I replied.
“What’s your last name?”
“Temple.”
“Your last name is Temple? That’s a weird surname.”
“At least I have a last name.” As a British prince, Harry… uh, Henry, doesn’t hold a surname.
Instead he takes on the area over which his father holds title as a last name. When his platoon refers to him, they call him Lieutenant Wales. Even though he belongs to the house of Mountbatten-Windsor. It’s confusing to me as well.
“True. But then I have four names.”
“Yes, yes, we’re all impressed,” I smiled and he smiled back. He had a nice smile. Warm and genuine. The smiles I receive from my father are usually forced.
“So, when did you get here?” I asked.
“This morning. I was supposed to have been here three days ago, but I had to wait for some results.”
“Results on what?”
“Oh, um, two days ago I found out that I had passed my Apache flying test. There was a ceremony and everything. I am now part of the army Air Corps’.”
“Wow, that’s cool. Congratulations. Apache is some kind of attack helicopter, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, how’d you know? Never mind, that question was sexist, I’m actually hoping to be promoted to Captain sometime soon.”
“I’m impressed. I’ve always admired the fact that you chose to be on the front lines instead of staying at home like a nancy boy.”
He laughed, “thanks. I still can’t believe that you called my brother Willy. I have to remember that. It will annoy the hell out of him.”
I gave a shy smile. I’m glad that I didn’t offend him too much, but I think he might be a nice guy that forgives easily.
An easy flow of conversation started and we just didn’t stop. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with whom I could converse so easily.
He had a sweetness to him that I was definitely unaccustomed to. Having grown up in my father’s corporate world, I knew only coldness.
“When my mother died, my father completely threw himself into his work and I was raised by nannies. Suffice it to say that we didn’t have a lot of father-daughter moments.”
“How did your mother die?” he asked kindly.
“Oh, breast cancer. I was eight. It lead to a lot of awkward talks with an embarrassed nanny, when I reached my teenage years. I’d tried asking my father about these things, but he only choked on his whiskey and the next day the nanny explained it to me,” I took off the locket that I always wore around my neck and handed it to him. “This was my mother’s. The picture inside is of her and me as a baby.”
He opened it and looked at it for a long time, before giving it back.
“I’m sorry, Gabrielli. I know what it’s like.”
“Thanks, I’m sorry too. Not a lot of people understand what it’s like,” I gave a sigh and fastened the chain around my neck.
“She’s really beautiful, your mother. You look a lot like her,” he said, probably trying to change the subject.
I gave a wistful smile, “Thank you. I actually think that might be why my father doesn’t like spending time with me. I probably remind him of her," I thought for a minute and then said, "You know, he’s never had another girlfriend or remarried. I’m not saying he’s chaste. I’ve seen him with enough hookers over the years to know that he doesn’t lack for companionship in that department.”
“They couldn’t all have been hookers…”
“None of them were, but I like to refer to them that way,” I grinned, “it makes me feel better.”
“Oh, well, whatever gets you through the day, I guess…” he winked at me and I felt like he really understood me.
I don’t think anyone has ever understood me before.
♠ ♠ ♠
The reaction that this story has gotten after just one chapter is ASTOUNDING!!It's already at ten stars with 67 subscribers. Thanks guys.
And thanks so much for all the comments. I really appreciate it.
Okay, so I'll be updating every Friday. I'm currently writing two other stories and I have to delegate my time.
The reason I started writing this story a few months ago, is because I saw Prince Harry on a GQ cover. I was reminded that I'd always liked him and so I started his story with Gabrielli. She's just a really sweet girl, who's down to earth and she's bit of a lost soul.
Love
xxx