Royal's Untouched Love, page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY ENJOY
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Royal’s Untouched Love
By: Sophia Lynn
All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2015-2016 Sophia Lynn
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CHAPTER ONE
It was one of those magical days in New York, a day when the city's relentless humidity let up to allow the citizens to breathe a sigh of relief. The sky was a blissful blue, and Heidi Conrad sat breathless in a small group of similarly-robed students. Underneath her mortarboard, her red hair had been tamed from its usual curls into a tidy braid, but she still couldn't help but feel a bit like the wide-eyed freshman who had appeared on Columbia's campus six years ago.
As the President of the Academic Board asked the distinguished academics to admit these new scholars into their ranks, she couldn't help a soft gasp of happiness. She really had done it. Against all the odds, the little orphan from Iowa had graduated top of her class with a doctorate in sustainability studies. Beside her, her classmates were grinning as well, each person seeking out the familiar faces in the crowd that had come to cheer them on. She didn't bother looking because there was no one there for her, but the familiar knowledge was now just a dull stab of pain rather than a sharp ache.
The president began calling their names, and Heidi was almost shocked when she heard her own name called. "Heidi Conrad!"
She approached the president confidently, almost as if her knees were not trembling under her robe. She managed to secure her diploma and shake his hand at the same time, and then she went and joined the rest of her graduated class, grinning so wide she thought her face was going to split.
When the names were all called and all the graduates were up, the President of the Academic Board turned towards them with a wide smile on his usually dour face.
"And now, I invite our new scholars to join us in the Academic Procession."
The band struck up its march, and the scholars, old and newly-minted, began their walk out. Heidi had to stop herself from dancing with glee, because she was a graduate now, and surely they did not do anything so very undignified.
As she walked down the cleared aisle, her eyes met those of a man seated next to the walkway. He looked too young to be anyone's parent, too alone to be a sibling. Dressed in a fine linen suit that likely cost more than her tuition, he was elegance personified, and as she walked past, he lowered his sunglasses to give her a smile.
It was so unexpected that she nearly missed a step. The graduate next to her, a new doctor of marine biology, helped her regain her balance, and by then she was almost past the strange man. When she looked back, she found that his eyes were still on hers, and the smile on his face …
One of her foster mothers had often said that the devil was a sweet one for dance and drink, and she thought that her foster mother's devil must smile like this man.
Heidi jerked her eyes forward again, because the last thing she wanted to do was spend her first night as a graduate nursing a broken leg in the emergency room. Though she walked out of the graduation hall with her head held high, she couldn't stop but think of the man's bright blue eyes and the slight smile on his face.
*
Much later that night, she curled up on the couch in her tiny apartment, the television turned on low providing a comforting buzz, half a leftover pizza beside her, and a wide variety of paperwork in front of her. Her roommate's cat, Masha, was sleeping beside her, and after the rush and bustle of the day, this was precisely what she needed.
She heard her roommate's key in the lock, and she smiled as Olga entered. Heidi was quite sure that there had never been two roommates who were more different. Olga was tall where she barely cleared five feet in her shoes, Olga had raven-dark hair to Heidi's own russet waves, and where Olga never missed a party, Heidi was far more content to hide at home with her books. Somehow, they got on famously, and they had been roommates for almost two years.
"It's graduation night, and look at you, already studying," said Olga, shaking her head. She collapsed in the small armchair next to the couch, kicking off her formidable high heels. If Heidi had tried to wear anything similar, she would have quickly broken something.
"I can't help it," Heidi exclaimed. "I'm starting at LaMer Enterprises next week, and I need to make sure that I don't come across as some dumb kid. This is the big leagues, it isn't just schoolwork anymore. I'll really be out in the world trying to save just a little bit of it."
Olga nodded with a slight grin on her face.
"Heard it all before, shortstack. And what I'm telling you is that you can relax, Remember, they came looking for you. They hired you out of a pool of what, three hundred possibilities? Relax. They're lucky to get you, and they know it."
LaMer Enterprises was one of the top concerns when it came to luxury yachts in the world. Backed by foreign investors from all over the world, LaMer managed to weld together form and function. However, though beautiful, most yachts were menaces in open water, spewing fuel and refuse in a way that was incredibly damaging to the waters in which they sailed.
When they had come calling, Heidi had at first been apprehensive about taking a job in an industry with such a record, but the recruiters had assured her that she was going to be at the forefront of big changes for the company—green ones.
After that, her agreement had been assured, and they had proceeded to dazzle her by offering complete moving services, a preparation stipend to make sure that she could make it to her new job in style, and an apartment in Athens. Heidi still blushed when she mentioned how excited she was going to be to work in Georgia, only to have them correct her kindly that they were in fact in Greece.
"I hope they still think that when I've bumbled around the office like a blind goat for a while," Heidi said darkly, making Olga roll her eyes.
"Come on, didn't you see the flowers that they got you?"
Heidi blinked.
"You know, the pink and white peonies? On the kitchen table? I left them there when I left for work."
"Oh … I thought that those were for you."
"Ha, no, no one I'm with right this moment is nice enough to send me flowers."
The bouquet was almost too big for their tiny kitchen table. It lit up the rather dull, dim room with a gorgeous profusion of blossoms. It took Heidi a little bit of searching before she found the card, but when she did, she saw that it was tasteful card-stock, and the writing inside was dark and bold.
To a clever scholar who will hopefully be with us for a good long while.
-Jaque LaMer
Olga, who had been reading over her shoulder, whistled low and long.
"Wow, flowers from the big man himself. See, I told you you were golden."
"Oh, come on, Olga, he probably had a secretary dash it off for him."
Despite her words, she couldn't stop herself from burying her face in the flowers, relishing their sweet, fresh scent.
"You could do worse than to snag a pretty Greek boy while you are overseas," Olga teased. "Some tall, dark, handsome man, who is inclined to sweep you off your feet with romance!"
"Ha, given my track record, I had probably better just stick with the sustainability studies," she laughed.
It was true. Her schooling had left precious little time for romance, but she feared that even if she had all the time in the world, she still wouldn't be very good at it.
She remembered Christmas of last year, when she had made it out to the department holiday party in Manhattan. She had suffered through a drunk adjunct’s rambling tale about someone riding a horse down a cobbled street, and afterward, she ended sitting through a kiss that smelled far too much like Irish cream.
Then there was the time Olga had badgered her into going to a campus party. That had led to an uncomfortable kiss from a man who was entirely sober, but who had turned out to be a full professor trying to get cute co-eds at student parties.
When she thought of her romantic record, it made her want to hang her head and dive right back into the briefing information that LaMer had so kindly provided her. She knew where she stood with algae counts and resins that didn't off-gas.
Olga was shaking her head with mock sadness. "So young and so bitter about love, my dear," she said. "What is Greece going to do with you then, with men who are meant to be among the best lovers of the world?"
"The last person I should be with is someone who actually thinks he's among the best lovers in the world," Heidi said with a laugh. "I'm sure I'll be fine. After all, I'm not looking for …" She trailed off, making Olga look up with interest.
"That sounds like something I want to hear about."
Reluctantly, Heidi told her roommate about the man who had made eye contact with her at the graduation ceremony. She didn't linger on how good-looking the man was, but by her friend's bright eyes, Olga had figured it out.
"My goodness, that sounds like an impressive opportunity," she said. "You should have gotten his number."
"Right then? During the academic procession? Stopping the whole line and making everyone wonder why they had given me a degree in the first place?
Olga shrugged, completely unrepentant. "It would have been memorable. But you're not wrong. You're heading to Greece in a week, and unless you were interested in a fling, that wouldn't be a great idea."
Heidi laughed. "Someday, I’ll have to the meet the me that exists in your mind," she said. "If she's halting processions to get the numbers of hot men she has never met before, I think I definitely want to be her friend."
"Oh, darling, you are already that girl, you just don't know it yet …"
After she brushed her teeth and went to bed that night, Heidi lay awake, thinking about the events of the day. Graduating with her doctorate from Columbia was the goal she had been working towards for ten years. When she was a foster kid in the system, nothing had seemed more impossible than being where she was right now.
Of course, where she was right now was in a small, incredibly cold apartment in Midtown with a bit of a mold problem, but the facts still stood. Heidi was moving forward with her life, heading into something new and grand, and she couldn't wait.
As she closed her eyes, burrowing into the pillows, she had no idea what was coming, but she had a feeling it was going to be amazing.
*
This wasn't Jaque's first trip to New York, or even his eighth, so of course he knew that when a beautiful woman offered to let him do a body shot off of her tanned lean belly, the only gentlemanly thing to do was to accept. Of course, accepting had led to him meeting all of her friends, and them wanting to hear his slight Swedish accent, which he thickened purposefully for them.
After that, somehow he had ended up getting dragged from bar to bar behind them, seeing the most of what Manhattan had to offer. Of course, what they had shown him was dirty bar after dirty bar, but that was just fine with him.
He awoke the next morning with a serious case of sensitive eyes and a head that felt as if someone had parked an anvil on top of it. The sun seemed far too bright, and the Manhattan traffic far below sounded like the roar of some furious sea monster. All in all, it wasn't a terribly uncommon morning for him, but that didn't mean that it was pleasant, either.
He turned over on his side, only to be confronted by a pair of brown eyes and a sly smile.
"Well good morning," he said after a pause. "You look pleased with yourself."
"I am," said the woman. What was her name? Mandy? Mindy? "Last night was a lot of fun, and right now, I'm curious to see if you want to do it again."
For a moment, Jaque considered taking her up on her offer. Flashes were coming back of the night before, and they were all good. Then there was a notification on his phone, and Jaque's memory kicked in.
"As much as I would love that, I'm afraid that I have business," he said regretfully. "Perhaps another time?"
The amused look she gave him told Jaque that she definitely had his number, and he felt himself warming to her. He had to admit, when it came to fun, he liked a woman who was as good at the game as he was.
"Sure," she drawled. "Look me up the next time you're in Manhattan. You got my name?"
She laughed at the slightly abashed look on his face.
"If you tell it to me again, I'll be sure to remember you next time," he promised.
She laughed, getting up and pulling an innocent sundress from her enormous purse. The beaded little black dress was then stuffed in its place.
"That assumes that I told it to you in the first place," she said with a wink.
He showed her out with a kiss, and then he sighed. There really was no getting out of what came next.
Dressed in a pair of silk pajama pants and a light robe, he stepped out into the solarium. Summer in New York could be a chore, but from his glassed-in position high above Manhattan, he thought it was fairly tolerable.
"Hello, Mother," he said when she picked up. "I hope you are well."
Greta LaMer had been the reigning monarch of Sweden for longer than Jaque had been alive. She was the daughter of the previous king, and according to ancient Swedish law, she was the one to inherit, not her husband. When her husband, Jaque's father, died after just four years of marriage, she had carried on, beloved of her people and a terror to those who would oppose her. Jaque was therefore not surprised when she did not mince words.
"Have you seen the news feeds?"
Jaque rubbed his hand over his eyes, not certain about the specifics, but fairly sure about what was coming.
"Pray tell, which ones, Mother?"
"Don't be smart," she snapped. "Why is that when I ask my press secretary for the most recent reports, the thing that shows up is news that my firstborn son has decided that Manhattan is his personal playground? What have you been doing out there?"
"Personal playground is honestly a little strong, I feel …"
"The feeds are covered with stories of you buying out an entire audience's worth of tickets so you could take a prima ballerina out for a sail," snapped Greta. "Explain that, oh Son of mine."
Jaque smiled briefly, thinking of the lovely ballerina who had been so pleased with a night off.
"It was a whim," he said with a shrug. "She was the soul of care and sweetness."
"I don't really care if she was Marilyn Monroe with Mother Theresa's soul returned. You need to stop these wild antics, Jaque."
Before he could respond to that, she sighed, a surprisingly regretful sound.
"Mother?" he asked cautiously.
"You have been running wild for what feels like a decade, Jaque," she said, her voice softer than it was before. "By the time I was your age, I was married and widowed. I know that there was a great deal of sorrow there, but there was also joy, so much joy that I am afraid you are missing."
"I think I am doing very well in the joy department," Jaque said, trying to keep his tone light.
"No, you're not," she said softly. "You're having fun. I know you are. Your father, rest him, was a wild one too, but when he married, he told me that he had never known real joy until we were together. I might be an old romantic, Jaque, but that's what I want for you as well."
Jaque sighed, looking out over Manhattan. It was always shocking when his mother spoke so clearly to him, but he knew when she did, she was utterly sincere.
"Times are different now, Mother. Men and women are different."
"Actually, they are just alike," she said, a trace of amusement in her voice. "Your father once bought out an entire restaurant in Bornholm so we could eat without any interruptions at all."
She sighed, and her tone became a little firmer.
"I'm at the end of my patience, Jaque. I am not going to live forever, and I refuse to leave our country to someone who will not take it seriously and who insists on making a spectacle of himself in front of the entire world. Get your act together and get it together now, or I will take drastic measures."
Jaque frowned. "You sound like you have my disinheritance on your mind," he said, some iron entering his tone.
"Do not test me in this matter," said Greta, her voice taking on the edge it had when she was dealing with heads of state. "You don't know how far I would be willing to go to protect my country from someone I don't think deserves to be at the helm."
After their phone call, Jaque stayed in the solarium for several long minutes. He stared out over the city with unseeing eyes.
He wondered what it would be like, to move through the world without being the black sheep Prince of Sweden. Money wasn't a concern; his father had left him wealthy, and LaMer Enterprises was worth millions of dollars. Very little would change, except for the cloud that hovered over him, telling him that one day, he would have to return home to Stockholm, leaving behind the oceans he loved so much.
He could feel the pull of five hundred years of history and his duty as the latest of the line, but at the same time, the sea called to him, and it was the sea he had followed for some ten years now.
Jaque sighed. He didn't want to go home to Stockholm, not yet. Fortunately, there was work to be done at the Greek arm of LaMer Enterprises, and even his mother couldn't fault him for taking care of it. Not only were his yachts the top of the line luxury models in the world, they were becoming the sea-going vessel of choice for the rich and royal.
The decision could be put off for a little longer, he decided, going back into the penthouse.
