William sweated. ‘Boy, did I really grasp her that tight?’ he wondered, fanning the woman who was lying on his lap while he analyzed his hand action earlier on. Panic stroked him as he realized he did pull her a bit too roughly. ‘I might have squeezed her kidney or something!’ He fanned a little harder.

“Don’t worry Your Highness, the woman will come around,” Phil said quietly as he wiped the woman’s face with a wash towel. He dipped the towel back into the small basin before squeezing it. He was about to go for another wipe when the woman’s eyes fluttered open slowly.

“I don’t do kickboxing and I’m not feeling overjoyed, the Prince was almost killed, for Goodness sake! And God, no! I don’t have a crush on the Prince! Get real anyone?”

William raised an eyebrow. Phil followed suit. Both men listened intently as the woman lying on his lap babbled with her eyes half closed. She was obviously an American.

Phil bit back a laugh as so did the Prince himself. Deciding to save the woman for further embarrassment, William touched her rosy cheek softly, trying to regain her consciousness.

“Madam, wake up. You’re safe now,” he whispered softly while patting lightly on her cheek.

The woman slowly lifted her eyelids and tried to focus on the face staring back down to her. It was a hard job. Her hand instinctively traveled down her abdomen. ‘How the hell does my kidney feels like it’s playing a rock concert in there?’ Her eyes refocused again. It was a beautiful sight, but definitely a bad news. She instantly sat up, out of shock. “Please tell me I’m not drunk,” she ordered.

William laughed. He did feel pretty comfortable with the woman’s head on her lap. “No, madam, you’re not drunk.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. For the first time since her regained state, she noticed she was in a moving automobile and accompanied with two strangers. Well, one was definitely not too much of a stranger. “If I’m not freaking wasted, why on macaroni and cheese, am I doing in here?” 

Phil laughed. Americans can be real-life clowns sometimes. William, on the other hand, smiled, amused. “You are definitely not drunk, madam. You have saved my life and I thought I would return the favor by saving you from the paparazzi. To be quite honest, madam, you were really creamed out there,” he spoke carefully, trying to explain the situation to the obviously-shocked woman.

The woman seemed to ease down as she ‘ahhed’ a second later. She bent her head, her lips grim, before looking up again, smiling sheepishly. William almost laughed out loud. Her expression crossed him as a cute, middle-scholar grin that he would hate to hate. “And I thought I was going to snap into paranoid mood,” she said sheepishly, her blue eyes twinkling. She was about to say something else, when she froze mid-air.

Phil narrowed his eyes. William anticipated another outburst. “I am paranoid now!” the woman yelled in panic. “What am I doing in you limo?! Now all the 2 billion teenyboppers around the world will launch an anti-me campaign!”

It was Phil’s turn to laugh while the Prince colored a hot pink. He loved the woman already. He tried to steal a look at his master, who was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt nervously. “I think you have just embarrassed my master, madam,” Phil said jokingly, his English accent accentuating every word.

William grinned sheepishly while trying to fight his blush. “Hi, I’m William,” he said softly as he extended a hand to her. The woman shook it briefly while smiling a goofy grin. “I’m Taylor. Thank you for saving my life from the fatal cameras, Your Highness.”

“Please call me William, Taylor.”

Taylor smiled. “No way, Your Highness. It would be like you’re calling me ‘Hey, Stooge’ when I call you by your first name. I just don’t have the authority.” She drifted her eyes to the big jovial black man sitting next to William and her smile grew bigger. She had a thing for pleasant, round black guy. “Taylor,” she extended her hand.

Phil extended his and shook the small white hand in his own black one pleasantly. “Philip Garcia. I work for His Highness,” he explained, motioning to his master. His master stared directly back at Taylor.

“I insist on you calling me William. You have my authority.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes, speechless. Now the Prince of Wales is William to me? Great. “You know, thanks for the ride, but I should really be getting off now. It’s not good for your image and all,” she excused herself, all in the while smiling apologetically.

William shook his head. Phil followed suit. “It is very dangerous to leave you all by yourself on the sidewalk now, madam,” Phil said. “More than a hundred reporters have recognized your face and soon it will be all over England.”

Taylor wrinkled her nose. Her name would become a household name. “You really know how to calm me down, don’t you, Mr. Garcia?” How on earth would she be getting back to her dorm? She felt for the pennies in her pocket. Taxi would be out of the list. She bit her lip. “What would you suggest then? Is the backstreet okay?”

“Absolutely ridiculous!” Phil answered curtly. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you cruised along one of the backstreets?”

“Uh, yea………”

William’s eyes twinkled. It has been long since he had a visitor. “Is the Buckingham a cool enough place for you to crash, Taylor?”