Actually it was me! It happened in Vegas when Harry was 27.
I was working as a chambermaid at a hotel when I was asked to clean up after a party in one of the suites. I let myself in with the pass key, the scent of Elizabeth Arden hung heavily in the air. By the billiard table stood a naked Prince Harry playing with his balls. I turned to leave.
"Don't go!" he called out. "The servants at home just ignore me". Foolishly, I walked in and began to tidy. Suddenly, I felt an unpleasant sensation. "That's not the billiard table pocket!" I said. "I know" he smirked, "and that wasn't my billiard cue!" "Could've fooled me!" I shot back.
I momentarily considered falling to the floor sobbing, but instead relished the satisfaction as my knee connected with his permafrost. He fell to the floor sobbing.
Whilst considering my options, I saw a look of feral cunning fleetingly cross his tear-stained face. "Please don't tell Papa or the British Press that I am no longer an innocent" he wheedled. He then produced a wad of traveller's cheques and a pre-completed NDA form that he had secreted about his (naked) person.
As tempting as it was to hurl him into the corridor, stark bollock naked, I agreed.
Tattlers, I walked out of there with a cool £2 million in traveller's cheques and Major Johnny's mobile number.