Page 44 of Risky Match (Royal Spies #1)

BLAKE

Y esterday, I quickly shared my plan with Prince Adrian as we walked back inside from the balcony.

He relayed word to Prince Stephen. I didn’t want to scare Bri off with a sudden about-face in my attitude toward her, but I did want her to see my anger was gone.

The princes helped by drawing me into a conversation with her.

Later, when we arrived home, I cornered Erin and Fausto to explain their part in my plan. At first, they were hesitant to help after hearing about my fallout with Bri, but eventually, I convinced them.

Ten minutes after I heard them go downstairs, I sneak down the steps and pause outside the kitchen doorway where Bri can’t see me. She’s sitting on a tall barstool at the island.

She’s beautiful even with the dark circles under her sad eyes. How did I ever believe what we shared wasn’t real? Neither of us would be this miserable if it hadn’t meant something.

I’ll make this right. I don’t want to imagine life without her.

After a couple of minutes, I walk into the kitchen and stop at the side of the island, offering a cheery, “Good morning, everyone. Fausto, those crepes look amazing. It’s too bad I have to meet my parents for breakfast today.”

At my request, Fausto made Bri’s favorite Nutella and fresh strawberry crepes. I’m hoping they will brighten her mood.

Fausto and Erin return my greeting. I almost laugh, remembering how Fausto spent two weeks pretending not to speak English. No wonder Bri was so mad when I accused Fausto of poisoning me. He understood my entire tirade. Fortunately, he’s the forgiving type. We’ve worked things out.

That’s not the case with Bri though. I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t speak to me. She probably assumes I don’t want to talk to her. I’d also bet that she’s still mad at me for all the horrible things I said.

That’s why my goal this morning is simple. If I can convince her to do one thing, it will be a success. I do my best to hide my nerves as I smile and ask, “Bri, would you be willing to ride with me to the dinner tonight?”

She scrunches her eyes and tilts her head, studying my face. I’m not sure if she thinks I’ve lost my mind or that I have a sinister plan for revenge. That’s not good. I don’t know what to say to make it better, so I remain silent, waiting for her response.

She turns back to her crepes. “That’s not necessary. We can each arrive with our own parents.”

My smile falters. “We could , but my parents were invited to go with yours if you ride with me. It would be incredibly special for my parents to arrive at the dinner with royalty. I know I’m asking a lot, but would you do it for them?”

Her eyes soften. “Of course. I didn’t realize the situation. I wouldn’t want to disappoint your parents.”

Goal accomplished. I fight the urge to high-five Erin and Fausto. I’ll thank them later.

“Bri, you don’t know how much they will appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Your parents are wonderful and so kind. I’m happy to do it for them.” She gives me the first hint of a smile I’ve seen this morning. It’s a start. We’re also talking in full sentences, which gives me a little hope.

“I’m off to meet my parents for breakfast. I’ll see everyone later.”

I quickly leave the kitchen to work on the rest of my plan.

Tonight is the Wimbledon Champions Dinner. This year, Bri and I are attending as winners—not the singles champions, but winners all the same. If I’m lucky, I’ll win even more tonight. It’s a longshot, but I’m giving it my all.

I spend the rest of the day double-checking the arrangements for this evening. But with each passing hour, more doubt creeps in. What if my plan isn’t grand enough? What if nothing I do will be? I have to press on. Living without Bri can’t be my fate.

This is the first time I’ve happily put on my tuxedo for the Champions Dinner. Bri and I earned our spots this year, so it feels different. Tonight will also be a major turning point in my life—either for the better or worse, depending on what happens with Bri.

As I step into the hallway with a bouquet of purple and white flowers for her, Bri’s door opens.

She takes my breath away. Her mahogany hair drapes over her shoulders. The short, purple satin cocktail dress hugs her figure, showing off her long legs to perfection.

Her lips turn upwards as she gives my tux-clad body a slow perusal. Then she suddenly blanks her face as if remembering we’re still at odds. Hopefully, that will end shortly.

“You’re gorgeous, Bri.”

“Thank you.”

“These are for you. I’m told you love purple roses.”

She lifts her eyebrows in surprise. “I do, but who told you that?”

I’m hoping she’ll think it was Erin. I’m not ready to share that Adrian and Stephen helped me with the plans for tonight.

“Does it matter?” I ask casually.

She taps her cheek with her index finger, considering my question. “Probably not, but who knows. So many people have lied to me—either directly or through omission—I’m having trouble deciphering what matters.”

“I understand. Why don’t we call a truce? Let’s promise not to lie to each other about anything? Can we do that?”

“Does this mean we’re speaking again?”

“I hope so. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for all the terrible things I said. I never truly believed them. I just felt tricked and manipulated. Like you, I didn’t know whom to trust and lashed out at everyone. I’ll never forgive myself for how I treated you.”

“The things you said about me were incredibly hurtful. But I know I hurt you as well. I’m sorry for that. I like your idea of a truce.”

The tension between us eases. A calmness washes over her face that I suspect mirrors mine.

“Excellent. I’m hoping you’ll eventually be able to forgive me. Tonight, let’s enjoy our well-earned invitations. How does that sound?”

“Yes. Let’s celebrate. But at some point, I’d like to talk more.”

“Me too.”

Taking her hand, I lead her down the stairs and out to the waiting car. The fact she didn’t pull away gives me a smidgeon of hope.

The short ride to the dinner starts out a little awkward, but gradually we’re talking, laughing, and smiling. The occasional touch of our knees and brush of our hands gives me confidence that my plan could actually work.

As we approach the venue, a spectacular display of lights marks the entrance. A red carpet lines the walkway where dozens of photographers stand behind a rope vying for the best angles.

While we wait for the cars in front of us to unload passengers, Bri turns to me.

Her eyes are moist. ”Blake, thank you for playing mixed doubles with me.

I’ll never forget that you made my dream come true.

And for us to walk in as champions tonight.

..It’s more than I could’ve imagined. I’ll be forever grateful no matter what happens. ..”

She doesn’t finish her thought. This is an emotional night for both of us.

“But for you, I might not even be alive, much less a champion. I’m the one who is grateful. Again, I apologize for being such a wanker. Shite. I probably shouldn’t use that language when talking with a princess. Can I pre-apologize for all future times I put my foot in my mouth?”

She laughs. “Just avoid it around my parents or in formal settings around my brothers. Even if they didn’t really mind, Xander and Evan would give you a hard time. Otherwise, no need to apologize.”

My minor faux pas lightened the mood.

”That’s a relief.”

Walking into the ballroom, it’s as if I’m seeing the Champions Dinner for the first time. Sure, the décor changes every year, but it always seems about the same to me. However, tonight the lights shine brighter, the music is happier, and the words of congratulation ring true.

I’m not surprised when people sympathize about the poisoning incident.

Instead of telling me that I’ll have another chance next year, they tell me how proud they are that I returned to play and made the UK proud.

I point out that Princess Brianna was the key to our success because of her skillful doubles play. They nod, patting me on the back.

We’re both glowing and animated as we relive various portions of matches with each new group that stops us. For the first time, I’m happy to be here. It’s not only because we won, but also because Bri is by my side.

Whether it’s our hands touching, my hand on her back, or my arm around her shoulder, I can’t help touching her. The few moments when we’re apart, I feel lost.

Eventually, Bri taps me on the shoulder, whispering, “Would you mind if we find our table? I’d like to check on my parents.”

“Good idea. My parents and our coaches should be there too.”

We wander toward the stage, chatting with more players, coaches, and VIPs along the way. Finally reaching our table, our parents are smiling and talking while Josh and Martina chat with coaches at a nearby table.

We greet our parents and take our seats beside each other for the dinner and program. I keep stealing glances at Bri, enamored with her poise and beauty.

When they call our names, we go forward to receive our honorary memberships to the All England Club.

Bri is beaming. I’ve been so focused on surprising Bri that I forgot about the cherished memberships.

Bri will never again have to feel bad about using the members’ locker room.

She’ll be entitled to use it whenever she plays here.

After all the winners are recognized, the men’s singles champion dances with the women’s singles champion. It’s tradition.

My palms start to sweat in anticipation of what comes next.

I quickly dry them on my napkin as the emcee announces, “Please welcome the mixed doubles champions to the dance floor.”

Bri turns her head and smiles as our eyes meet.

The audience applauds loudly as I stand, reaching for Bri’s hand. The anticipation of holding her in my arms is killing me. I want to jog to the dance floor but know better. Instead, I wrap an arm around her waist, giving her a light squeeze as we walk.