Page 15

CHAPTER 15

T he August heat lingered in Leicester Square as dusk approached, the sun still high in the sky as Ash stepped from the black Range Rover onto the red carpet. The roar of the crowd hit her first. Hundreds of fans pressed against barriers, their phones raised high, their voices merging into one continuous wave of sound. Marianne had given her a quick once-over before she left, dabbing at a bead of sweat threatening to disturb Ash’s perfectly applied makeup.

“Remember, straight down the middle, stop at the markers for photos,” Marianne told her. “And smile naturally this time. Act like you’ve just nutmegged Sloane Patterson for the winning World Cup goal.”

Ash rolled her eyes, but she could well imagine how wide her smile would be if that actually happened next summer in London. However, for now, she had a public to please.

She’d done this dance before. Perhaps not for a James Bond premiere, but she knew how to work a red carpet. The fact her heart was hammering against her ribs had nothing to do with the cameras or the crowd. It had everything to do with who would be walking this same carpet tonight. Their cars were due to arrive within five minutes of each other, so Victoria might be directly behind her.

The first camera flashes began as she moved forward, each step measured in her black heels, which she was surprisingly good at walking in, even if she hated them. The photographer pit erupted in a cascade of shutter clicks and calls of “Ash! Over here! This way!”

The turn was muscle memory now: hand sliding into pocket, lips curving into that camera-ready smile. They all wanted their piece of the captain, the golden girl, the face that had defined English football’s summer of glory. But tonight, behind the smile that had launched her to Sports Personality of the Year, her thoughts were tangled in something far from this practised performance.

“Looking gorgeous, Ash!” someone called out. “Who are you wearing?”

“Alexander McQueen,” she answered automatically, smoothing down the silk of her ivory summer tuxedo. She wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath her jacket, just a low-cut waistcoat and a whole lot of boob tape. To the untrained eye, it looked like she was wearing nothing but silk and cleavage. Luke had taken about a week to persuade her this was the way to go. She just hoped she didn’t have a wardrobe malfunction before she got into the cinema. Her look was going to send the sapphic football world into meltdown anyway, as it did any time she appeared out of her football kit.

She stopped in front of a BBC microphone and answered their questions about how good it was to beat the USA this week. “Was that a dress rehearsal? Are you winning the World Cup next year at Wembley?” the presenter enquired.

“If I have anything to do with it, we are,” Ash replied, bold and sassy.

A few of the photographers behind her whooped at that answer.

Influencer Loella approached her. Ash had a lot of time for her, because her favourite things were football and fashion.

“You are looking fly tonight, girl.” Loella fanned herself to show Ash how hot she was.

She smiled down Loella’s camera lens: “I aim to please, and to represent.”

“Tell me: do you think it’s about time for another female James Bond, Ash? Any chance you might take up acting when you finish your football career?”

That made her properly chuckle. “I’ve still got a lot of football left in me,” she said. “But yes, why shouldn’t the next James Bond be a woman?” She could already see the headlines forming from this soundbite. “However, I don’t think I should play the role. There are plenty of talented actors out there who’d fit the bill. I’ll stick to football. And the occasional catwalk.”

Loella laughed, then turned to look to the right of Ash.

A shimmer of excitement surged through the air. Ash didn’t need to turn around to know what it meant. Victoria had arrived, and Ash’s time in the spotlight was up. Victoria had messaged earlier, telling her she’d try not to steal her thunder too much.

Ash thanked Loella for her time, then forced herself to keep moving forward, to not break stride or give any indication that her pulse had just doubled its tempo. But she couldn’t help stealing a glance over her shoulder, making it look like she was simply acknowledging fans on both sides of the carpet.

Victoria was a vision in flowing gold chiffon that caught the dipping evening sun with every movement. Her security crew kept a respectful distance, almost invisible unless you knew to look for them. Victoria’s and Ash’s eyes met for the briefest moment across the sea of cameras, and that familiar jolt of electricity zapped down Ash’s spine.

Two months of flash meetings and never-ending messages. She’d always remember the Marbella balcony, and seeing Victoria with a beer in her hand like she was a normal person. Which, weirdly, she was turning out to be. Victoria blushing when Ash emerged from her bathroom in her bikini. Bumping thighs in Astrid’s hot tub. Wiping froth from Victoria’s nose in the FA car park. Each encounter charged, each goodbye heavy with things unsaid.

Tonight was different: they were determined to get some alone time, however that might happen. Victoria had messaged to say she had a plan.

Ash reached the next marker, turning to give the photographers their shots. Through the strobing lights, she could see Victoria doing the same two stages behind. The princess laughed at something, her head thrown back, throat exposed. Ash dragged her gaze away before anyone noticed.

“Final stretch.” Victoria’s aide, Tanya, appeared at Ash’s elbow, steering her towards the cinema entrance. “You were originally seated in row Q. Victoria’s in row F, with just me sat beside her,” she added, her expression not changing one iota. “She’s asked if you’d like to sit with her.”

“In the cinema?” Dumbest question in the world.

Tanya frowned. “Yes.”

Ash was about to sit next to Princess Victoria at a film premiere. The first time they’d done so in public, albeit in the dark. Her life was about to take a dizzying turn, wasn’t it? Her head filled with outcomes and permutations, but she shut it down.

“That would be great.”

Tanya nodded and guided her to the VIP entrance. “Keep walking, wait on the right when you get in, and try not to look like you’re about to rob a bank. I’ll bring Victoria to you, then you’ve got 15 minutes in Victoria’s private green room. I’ll wait outside, and will bring you in separately.”

Before Ash could respond, Tanya melted into the crowd, leaving her to navigate the final few metres of red carpet alone.

The door clicked shut, and suddenly the world compressed to the size of this space. Just them, the low hum of the air conditioning, and the muffled sounds of the crowd. Victoria’s perfume, something warm and musky, filled Ash’s senses as the princess walked across the room and perched on the arm of a leather sofa. A bottle of champagne chilled in a silver bucket on the table, along with tubes of sour cream Pringles and a bag of Percy Pigs.

“Well,” Victoria said, smoothing her gold dress over her knees, “here we are. One of these days, we won’t have the world’s media poised with cameras when we meet.” Her voice carried that hint of humour that always made Ash’s stomach flip, but there was something else there, too. A slight tremor that betrayed her own nervousness.

Ash remained by the door, her hand still on the handle, anchor-like. She needed something to ground her, to stop herself from crossing the room in two strides and doing what she’d been dreaming about for months. “Tanya knows?”

It was a statement more than a question.

“Tanya knows...” Victoria tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture Ash had come to recognise she did when she was trying to appear casual. “She knows that we’ve been talking. That I like you. I haven’t specifically told her, but she’s not stupid. She’s caught me looking at my phone with a stupid grin on my face more times than I care to remember.” Victoria gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry, she’s trustworthy. She’s been with me for years, and there are some things I can’t hide, no matter how hard I try. And I did try for years. But it gets exhausting. I don’t want you to be exhausting.”

“Neither do I.”

“It was actually Tanya who suggested I needed a quiet moment before the film. Said something about how I wouldn’t be able to focus otherwise if I didn’t at least get to see you alone for a minute. She’s right, too. I would have been craning my neck, looking everywhere.”

“I’m glad you listened and took her up on her suggestion.”

“Me, too.” Victoria paused, her eyes dropping to Ash’s chest. “Especially when you look like you’re naked underneath that jacket.”

Ash glanced down at her plunging cleavage, let go of the door handle, and took a single step forward. The air conditioning hummed against her skin, but heat still rose from her collar and crawled up her neck. Every tiny movement Victoria made – the shift of her dress, the flutter of her fingers against her knee, the slight parting of her lips – sent sparks dancing across Ash’s skin. She fought to keep her breathing steady.

They stared at each other.

“Do you want some champagne?”

“Sure.” Victoria stood up and smoothed down her dress.

Ash’s mouth went dry. She moved forward, undid the foil and popped the cork. She poured two glasses, and handed one to Victoria. Her hands shook.

“Thank you. You’re very skilled at that. I get scared popping bubbles after a cork nearly took my eye out.”

"I’ve got many skills.”

Where had that come from?

Victoria smiled over the rim of her glass. “I don’t doubt it.” She paused. “Skills I’m desperate to learn. But not in this very drab green room.”

Victoria’s lips curved into a smile that made Ash’s pulse race. “Just know, when James Bond is running around chasing the villain with a gun as big as his head, I won’t be concentrating on that.” She took a step forward. In the bright light of the room, a slight flush crept up Victoria’s neck, and her chest rose and fell with quickened breaths.

“What will you be focused on?” In what seemed like the most daring thing imaginable, Ash took a step forward, too.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps how this woman who’s caught all of my attention of late is sat next to me, with the whole world behind us, and I can’t touch her, which is driving me insane.” Another step. “But it’s also making me more determined than ever to make it happen. But this yearning is also kinda hot.”

The way Victoria said ‘hot?’ Ash could listen to it all night. This green room might be drab, but there was something about it…

“Tanya described me as a cat on a hot tin roof. Which is probably pretty apt.”

The princess’s words reached inside Ash, pushing all her blood south.

She moved until she was close enough to see the silver flecks in Victoria’s eyes. She could count her eyelashes if she wanted to. With them both in heels, Victoria was slightly shorter. The perfect height if Ash leaned down slightly...

“I want to kiss you, but not here. Somewhere more worthy. Will you come to the after-party with me?”

Ash coughed. “And kiss you there in front of everyone?” She couldn’t quite imagine that.

Victoria shook her head. “No. We’d go, but then leave soon after. What do you think?”

Despite every bone in her body leaning in, Ash shook her head, an apology streaking across her face. “I have a super-early 4am call tomorrow with Pepsi Max for a shoot in Paris. Helicopter there and back in a day. I can’t be out late tonight.”

Victoria gave her a frustrated smile, and shook her head. “I get it.”

Ash picked up Victoria’s hand, drew it to her mouth, and kissed her knuckles one by one. A million magic crystals fell through her body as she did. Victoria was precious cargo. Every fibre of Ash’s being told her so.

“How about I give you a lift home afterwards instead?” Victoria said.

“I live in St Albans. You’ll miss your party.”

She stared into Ash’s eyes until Ash’s knees almost buckled. “I don’t care about the after-party.”

A gentle knock at the door made them both jump apart. “Five-minute warning, Your Highness,” came Tanya’s voice, softer than necessary.

“Thanks, Tanya,” Victoria called back, her voice tight. She looked back at Ash. Her pupils had dilated so wide, the blue of her eyes was just a thin ring, dark and dangerous. Ash’s muscles betrayed her as the room tilted ever so slightly beneath her feet. She shifted her weight, trying to remember how her legs usually worked.

“You haven’t answered me. Can I give you a lift afterwards?”

“I would love that.”

“Great.”

Ash still had hold of Victoria’s hand.

Victoria dropped it, then gave a firm nod. “I’ll go first. See you in there.” She stepped towards the door, but paused with her hand on the handle. “Do you even like James Bond?”

“Can’t stand him,” Ash replied.

Victoria let out a throaty laugh that Ash was starting to know well. “Me either.”

As Victoria opened the door, Ash caught Tanya’s knowing smile, before the aide smoothly stepped in to guide her princess back to her public duties.

When the door shut, Ash closed her eyes.

This was about to be the longest few hours of her life so far.

The partition glass slid up silently, leaving Ash and Victoria alone in the back of the Rolls-Royce. The movie had been a long series of sighs and glances, but now they were alone, Ash wasn’t any more relaxed. The leather seats seemed too pristine to touch, the air too refined to breathe. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap, hyper-aware of the crown insignia etched into every surface, catching the amber streetlights as they glided through London.

Ash’s palms were clammy against the silk of her trousers. She snuck a glance at Victoria, cataloguing details she’d already memorised: the elegant curve of her neck, the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, the slight smudge in her otherwise perfect lipstick from their quick sip of champagne on the way out.

Beside her, the leather creaked softly as Victoria got comfortable. Outside, London slipped by in a blur of summer twilight.

“So.” Victoria’s fingers traced patterns on the leather between them, then inched closer to where Ash’s hand rested. “What did you think of the film?”

Ash swallowed hard, watching those delicate fingers move. “I have absolutely no idea what happened.”

“You weren't paying attention?” Victoria’s voice was low, teasing.

“Weirdly, no.” Ash turned her head to find Victoria already looking at her. “I had a far better view than the film nearby. A front-row seat to a princess, no less.” Ash leaned in. “Plus, you were doing that thing with your hair.”

“What thing?” Victoria’s tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.

“That thing where you...” Ash’s words faded as Victoria’s pinky finger finally made contact with her own, the lightest brush of skin against skin. “Where you flick it, then tuck it behind your ear.” Every time she did it, Ash was transfixed.

“I didn’t know you were watching.” But Victoria’s smile said otherwise as her hand covered Ash’s. “I mean, I hoped you were.” She paused. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I’m doing when you’re around. I wasn’t doing that with my hair to flirt. I was doing it to occupy my hands. To redirect my energy. Anywhere that took my mind off the fact that my hands wanted to touch you.”

The car slowed for a red light, and the shifting shadows from outside painted patterns across Victoria’s cheekbones. Ash lifted her right hand, finally allowing herself to touch, to brush her thumb across that play of light and dark. Victoria’s breath hitched, and her eyes closed briefly. The space between them crackled with possibility.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks.” Ash’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “Every time you walk into a room, every time I see you on TV, every time my phone lights up with a message.”

She trailed a fingertip along Victoria’s cheekbone.

Something fluttered in her chest.

A summer heat rolled through her.

Victoria turned her face into Ash’s palm, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin of her wrist. The kiss was feather-light, but it shot straight to Ash’s core. She shook her head. “Trying to get together with you is delicious torture, you know that?”

Ash exhaled. “I’m well aware.” Her gaze dropped to Victoria’s lips. They were inches away.

“You said you were going away on Monday? To the USA?”

It was a really, truly ill-timed pre-season tour. “For two weeks.” But she didn’t want to talk about that now. She wanted to stay in this moment. With Victoria so close. Her lips right there .

“I won’t see you until the end of August.”

Victoria shifted closer, and the fabric of her gold dress whispered against Ash’s thigh. The effect was like a match strike in a dark room: sudden heat, the catch of breath, and the knowledge that everything was about to change.

“But we’ve got at least an hour if this traffic keeps up. I know it might not be the romantic setting we wanted, but honestly, I don’t care. If I don’t kiss you right now, I might actually expire.” Ash leaned in and cupped Victoria’s face. “And you don’t want my death on your conscience, do you?”

Victoria shook her head, wordless, and leaned towards Ash. The car turned a corner, and Victoria used the momentum to close the final distance between them. Her lips found Ash’s with devastating precision.

For one heartbeat, the kiss was gentle, tentative: a question being asked. Then Victoria’s fingers slid into Ash’s hair, nails grazing her scalp, and the question became an answer. Ash gasped against Victoria’s mouth, and the princess took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, her tongue sliding against Ash’s with an urgency that made Ash’s head spin.

The world shrunk to points of contact: Victoria’s hand tightening in her hair, their knees pressed together, the smooth warmth of Victoria’s bare shoulder under Ash’s palm. When Victoria pulled back slightly to take a shaking breath, Ash chased her lips, refusing to let even an inch of space come between them.

Victoria made a sound – half whimper, half sigh – and it rattled through Ash. She tasted like champagne and possibility, like every text message they’d exchanged at 3am, like every lingering touch they’d denied themselves in public.

When she dragged her thumb across Victoria’s bottom lip, Victoria trembled beneath her touch. Ash’s heart thundered against her ribs where Victoria’s palm now pressed, burning through silk.

She kissed her again, slower, deeper, drowning in the reality of Victoria’s mouth under hers, Victoria’s fingers splayed possessive and wanting against her skin. Every fantasy paled against this: the actual taste of her, the small sounds she made, the way she touched Ash like she’d been aching for it, too.

The car hit a speed bump, jolting them apart just enough to remember where they were. Victoria’s lipstick was thoroughly smudged now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her pupils blown wide. Ash couldn’t look any more composed.

She kissed Victoria’s lips one more time, before drawing back. Every sense she possessed was ragged. She wanted to rip all her clothes off, and have sex on this leather seat. But that was not in the royal playbook, surely? Although, the way Victoria kissed her with such depth, such surety? Ash was beginning to rethink everything she knew about royalty.

“You sure I can’t tempt you to turn this car around and come home with me.” Her gaze burned hot. “I told you once we started, I’d only want more.” But Victoria’s words were laced with resignation.

Ash smiled. “After that kiss, there’s nothing I’d love more.” She checked her watch. It was already gone 11pm. “But I have to be up in a few hours and look pretty for the cameras.”

Victoria leaned in and kissed her hard, pulping Ash’s brain.

“There’s no universe where you couldn’t look stunning at any hour of the day,” Victoria added minutes later, coming up for air.

Warmth bloomed in Ash’s chest. “I could get used to your smooth talk.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin if you don’t make it home by midnight?”

Ash nodded.

“I’ll have to put that to the test one day.” Victoria trailed a fingertip down Ash’s cheek. “I’ve never dated anyone with a busier calendar than me. This is going to be interesting, isn’t it?”

“You could say that.”

“But when you’re back, let me know, and you’re coming round. I’ll cook dinner. Banish Michael from the house. Deal?”

Ash gulped. “Deal.”