To Wed a Princess

Eloise was tipsy. She stumbled into one of her brother's friends and giggled out an apology before turning back to Kate. Okay, so she was a tad more than tipsy – but it wasn't every day that her brother turned thirty! She was also celebrating the fact that it had been nearly three weeks since she'd seen Mr Brian Haner.

Charlotte may have been known for throwing some of the most sophisticated parties in London, but Harry was known for throwing the most outrageous ones, and that was how Eloise found herself in London's most expensive club, dressed in a scandalously small black dress, dancing and drinking martinis.

“Glad to see you smiling again, mi reina,” Rafael had his hands on her hips as he stood behind her and she smiled, leaning back into him slightly.

“I'm glad to be smiling again, Rafi. Although this party is definitely going to outshine mine.”

“Yeah well this party doesn't have your grandma here – I doubt she'd want to see you in such a dress,” he chuckled.

“Are you saying you don't like my outfit?” she raised an eyebrow “How very rude. I happen to love my legs in this dress.”

“Hey, what your grandma wants to see you in and what I want to see you in are two very different things, tu me vuelves loca, hermosa,” he was practically purring in his ear at this point and she grinned, taking another gulp of her martini.

“Another?” he asked, gesturing to the now empty glass.

“You're trying to get me drunk, Cardona,” she sighed dramatically.

“You don't need my help with that, cariño,” he chuckled and she gave a small laugh, handing him her empty glass and he made his way to the bar.

She then fell into conversation with one of Harry's friends – she didn't know his name, but he was unnaturally tall and very attractive, she'd met him a few times when she'd seen him with Harry.

“You want some?” he gestured to what she had assumed was a cigarette in his hand.

“What is it?” she wrinkled her nose unsurely – she knew she could trust him, he was one of her brother's nearest and dearest, she just wanted to know what she'd potentially be inhaling.

“Tobacco with a tiny bit of weed,” he admitted, drawing out the word “tiny” as though to emphasise his point.

She bit her lip. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done it...and there was security everywhere to ensure that there were no cameras in the building.

She accepted it and brought it to her lips after muttering “Sorry if I get lipstick on it.”

“Bet that's not the first time you've said that,” he gave her a wink and she snorted before taking a draw.

She took a few more drags of the joint before handing it back to him, mumbling for him not to tell her brother before leaving, shooting him a smile of thanks, her knees already beginning to feel funny. They always did when she smoked weed. She felt as though she was gliding through the crowd as she searched for Cardona, bumping into him just as a new song began to play.

They both nearly dissolved into fits of laughter when they realised what the song was – Jennifer Lopez's Papi.

“Oh this is perfect, we have to dance to this,” she giggled, seizing the martini from him before allowing him to lead her to the dance floor, not missing his smug expression.

Had she been sober, Eloise would have been scandalised by the way she was dancing with Cardona in front of everybody – even if everybody else was dancing in the same way as them. However, Eloise wasn't sober. Everything felt blurry and far away, all except Cardona's hands on her and hips against hers. It was pleasant. Her eyes fluttered shut and a smile came to her face as she danced. She hadn't felt this care-free in a long time. She felt goosebumps erupt on her skin as his lips met her neck and she let out a breathy sigh, opening her eyes. Blue eyes met hazel and she froze where she stood. The song ended a moment later and she still stood frozen to the spot.

“Querida? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Order me the strongest coffee you can find in London,” she forced out, stumbling away before regaining her footing and striding towards the women's bathroom.

It was empty and she locked the door behind her, the effects of the alcohol and joint no longer pleasant as she tried to force herself to sober up and bring the world back into focus. She kicked off her Louboutins and stood in front of the sinks, staring at her reflection. She looked fine. Her make-up perfectly intact – her hair was a tad ruffled, but it looked intentional. Gripping the edges of the sink, she took in a few deep breaths.

He was back. He was back and she was drunk. He was back and he had the advantage. He was here. Of course he'd managed to get an invite – after laying on the charm so thickly with Harry, she didn't know how she hadn't expected it.

She cupped her hands underneath the running tap and drank some of the water, hoping it would help, before splashing a bit on her face – relieved she'd opted for waterproof make-up that night. With a final, shaky breath, she slipped her shoes back on and made her way back into the club, ignoring the line of girls attempting to subtly glare at her for locking the door.

Holding her head high, she made her way through the crowd...and ended up walking straight into the American she was avoiding.

“You're back,” she breathed, stepping out of his grasp once he'd steadied her.

“Told you I'd be,” he seemed a lot cheerier than he'd been when he left “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

“So do you,” she murmured distractedly, willing herself to focus on anything other than how attractive he was “I mean, uh, handsome.”

“Thanks, babe,” he gave a quiet laugh “But you are drunk...maybe even a little stoned.Wanna come sit down for a bit?”

“No, no, I need to go find-” she went to take a step away and stumbled, cursing.

“C'mon,” he chuckled, leading her towards the alcoves placed at one side of the venue, each individually separated from the other containing a couple of sofas.

She sat down on one of the sofas, willing herself to sober up so that she wouldn't slip up and say anything stupid.

“Are you, erm, are you still coming to my birthday party?” she asked, hating how high her voice sounded.

“Sure am,” he nodded, sitting down beside her “If I'm still welcome, that is.”

She nodded, staring down at her hands. If she concentrated hard enough she wouldn't say anything stupid.

“Good, already got your present sorted out when I was in Cali,” he shrugged, sipping at his beer.

“You got me a gift?” she frowned, gaze moving from her hands to his eyes.

“Of course, it's your birthday.”

“Did you get Harry a present for tonight?” she raised an eyebrow and then laughed softly at his frown “Thought not. So why him and not me? He's turning fourty, crap, I mean thirty – I'm just turning twenty two.”

“Well, you gotta keep this secret, 'kay?” he leaned towards her conspiratorially with a wink “You're my favourite Royal.”

“It's the legs,” she muttered dazedly, pulling at the hem of the dress.

Eloise fought to focus on anything other than Brian. Anything but how close he suddenly seemed to be. Anything but how handsome he was tonight. His time in California had done him good, that much was obvious. He had tanned and seemed a lot more relaxed than he had been, with a spark in his eye which would have worried her had she been in any other state of mind.

Suddenly his lips were on hers, soft and warm, and his hands moved – one on her thigh and the other on her hip, pulling her closer whilst his thumbs slowly rubbed back and forth. She could do nothing but sigh, one hand moving up to run through his hair and the other finding some sort of leverage on his firm shoulder – damn, he must work out.

Everything was lost to her but him. His tongue in her mouth, his hands on her, the softness of his hair and the low groan he eventually gave. She was kissing Brian Haner. This was the thought that brought her crashing back down to Earth. She was kissing Brian Haner. She shoved him away and stumbled to her feet, feeling her blood run cold.

“Ah, shit, Eloise,” he groaned.

“I-I...I need to leave,” she shook her head and bolted away, towards the crowd, ignoring his half-shouted apologies.

She couldn't find Cardona – then again, she hardly tried to – all she knew was that she needed to get home. No, not home, he knew where she lived – even if she did have security. She'd go to Buckingham palace and stay there for the night. No place was more secure. Not bothering to say goodbye to anybody, she hurried outside, hissing and wrapping her arms around herself once the cool midnight air hit her. It only took her moments to have someone get a car out front and help her into it, and within an hour of seeing Brian Haner for the first time in ages, she was gone.

An hour and a half later, she sat in her bedroom, make-up gone and hair in a mess. She'd kissed Brian Haner. She had enjoyed it.

“I am royally fucked,” she sniffed to herself, shaking her head.