Royal Gentleman, page 1
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Cover designed by Lori Jackson, www.lorijacksondesign.com
Editing provided by Missy Borucki, missyborucki.com
Proofreading provided by K. Donald and Michelle Vize
Book formatting provided by Stacey Blake of Champagne Book Design
Publication Date: July 17, 2019
Royal Gentleman
Copyright ©Christy Pastore 2019
All rights reserved
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Playlist
Author Note to the Reader
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
Wicked Gentleman Excerpt
Beautiful March Excerpt
Sweet Agony Preview
Books by Christy Pastore
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Playlist
King for a Day by Thompson Twins
Everybody Wants to Rule The World by Tears For Fears
King Of My Heart by Taylor Swift
Sucker by Jonas Brothers
Old Town Road by Lil Nas X, Billy Ray Cyrus
7 rings by Ariana Grande
Cruel Summer by Bananarama
Outlaw State Of Mind by Chris Stapleton
All I Want Is You by U2
Famous by Ivy Adara
Lost by Jai Wolf, Chelsea Jade
Queen by Loren Gray
Currency by Ivy Adara
Drink a Little by Wee-o, Benjamin Amaru
Peanut Butter Jelly by Galantis
Animals by Martin Garrix
Always There When I Need You by Salt Cathedral
If You Remember by The Ramona Flowers, LUXXURY
Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish, blackbear
Only Time by Enya
The Promise by When In Rome
Author Note to the Reader
According to the internet, there are forty-three countries which have a royal family—twenty-eight of those families rule entirely over their nations.
Wikipedia lists twenty-nine monarchs. You can check it out for yourself on Wikipedia, List of Current Monarchs of Sovereign States.
As you guessed Royal Gentleman is a ROYAL ROMANCE.
But I must tell you . . . this is a work of fiction. A total work of fiction.
And this book is NOT based on any one royal family. I did a deep dive into many of the existing royal families . . . oh, there are some scandals. So, if you think, “that would never happen,” let me tell you—crazier things have happened in real life.
Fun fact: Did you know that the Prince of Norway met his wife at an EDM festival? And she was a single mother? *gasp*
Princess Sofia of Sweden was a former model and reality television star before marrying Prince Carl Phillip. It’s rumored by some newspapers that Sofia kissed adult film star, Jenna Jameson, while in Las Vegas.
And Queen Letizia of Spain was married previously before marrying King Felipe VI. Her first marriage was a civil ceremony. Not only that, but she was a commoner before becoming Queen of Spain.
Before becoming Princess of Monaco, Charlene was an Olympic athlete. She swam for her home country of South Africa. Rumor has it that she tried to leave the country just days before her wedding to Prince Albert. This was after even more rumors had circulated saying he had fathered a third illegitimate child.
I could go on . . . but, I digress.
Thank you for picking up Royal Gentleman. I hope you enjoy Kerris and Nicholas’ love story.
Happy Reading!
For Missy, not only my editor, but also my friend. I’d be royally screwed without your help. Thank you for all you do from the first step to way past the last. Mostly, thank you for believing in me, even on days when I struggle to believe in myself.
Book ten—Can you believe it?
This one is for you.
ROYAL (adj.):
Having the status of a king or queen or member of their family.
GENTLEMAN (n.):
A man of refinement.
“ROYALTY. YOU LIVE AMONG ROYALTY, Kerris,” my mother says, combing out my hair.
As if I didn’t know. My father is the general secretariat to the king and queen of Sardones.
“Do not look at the cameras when Ander arrives at school today. Smile but do not give the media any attention.”
“Mommy, do you have to call him Ander? He hates that name.”
She laughs. “I know he does, dear,” she answers, her warm singsong tone drifts over the shell of my ear. “But the teachers will call him by that name and the students will address him as Your Highness. As they do every year.”
My shoulders roll forward as I blow out a deep breath. “Mommy, he’s going to hate it. You’d think, as the Prince of Sardones, that he’d be able to get them to pass a law or something.”
“Well, you’d think after many years of him trying to plead his case with no success, he’d have given up the fight by now.”
That makes me laugh. “Nicholas, he’s very pigheaded.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is determined.”
I point my finger to the ceiling. “Which means he’ll be a great king someday, right, Mommy?”
She cups my chin. “Darling, he’s so lucky to have a good friend like you—always so supportive. Now, as I said, do not look at the cameras.”
The cameras don’t bother me, spotting a camera pointed near Ander . . . Nicholas—because he likes his middle name much better—is as ordinary as spotting a common kingfisher in the gardens.
The royal family has a big day today, the honorary walk to school for Prince Ander. We’re told by palace officials that both King Eder and Queen Kaylene will accompany the young prince to school this morning. Oh the public does love any time they get to see the royals. The entire country of Sardones seems to be camped out along the route.
My eyes snap to the television when I hear the claps and cheers. A sea of people stands behind ropes along the main road near the palace smiling and waving the country flag.
“Today is a big day,” I say. “Look at all those people.”
And another big event for the country will be here in five short days. Tradition.
Five days and the country will head to the voting polls.
“Another five years, another vote,” my mother comments. “I don’t know why it always makes me so nervous.”
I squeeze her hand. “Don’t be nervous. The country loves the royal family.”
When Parliament was established, the royal family agreed to what was termed “The Grand Compromise.” Enshrined in the constitution, The Grand Compromise stated that every five years the people would be allowed to affirm that they maintained the royal family as rulers of the land. In the one hundred years since, not once have they received less than eighty-five percent approval.
There’s no reason to believe this year will be any different—and it wasn’t.
Not this year, at least.
Now
“ASSHOLE,” I MUMBLE UNDER MY breath and stuff my camera back into its case.
“Come on, Kerris, you know I love your work. It’s just that Justine, well, she has more attention to detail.”
I laugh. “She pays more attention to your cock is what you mean.”
His eyes narrow. “You know . . .”
I hold up my hand. “Save your breath and the speech, Neil. I get it, this project isn’t a good fit for me. I didn’t want it anyway.”
His broad shoulder rests against the doorframe. “Then why did you beg me to let you pitch your idea?”
My shoulders roll forward as I zip up my bag. “I’m the best damn person for this fucking job and you know it. You don’t want to give it to me, fine. But you and I both know that you only gave it to her because she spread her legs for you.”
“Are you about finished?”
Blowing out a deep breath, I squeeze my eyes shut and plaster a smile on my face. “I am.”
“When something else comes across my desk, you’ll be the first person I call.”
I haul my messenger bag higher onto my shoulder. A million thoughts run through my mind. I open my mouth to speak, then decide I’ve already said too much. If I’m not careful, I’ll never get another freelance job again. And that won’t be good because I have bills to pay like everyone else.
Instead I muster my remaining pride. “Sounds great, I really appreciate it,” I say, laying it on thick.
Neil nods and walks back into his office. When I walked into Neil’s office five years ago, I planned to gain a little experience and then branch out on my own—start my own company. But the projects kept rolling in and the cash was good—really good.
My summers are spent jet-setting between Chicago and traveling wherever I want. I party with celebrities in East Harbour and discuss wine with Fortune 500 industry leaders in Italy. Freelance journalism has its perks and there are a lot.
Once I leave the building, I round the corner and land at a coffee shop in Lincoln Park. My parents live in a fabulous Greystone just a few blocks away. It’s just after three, but my mom won’t be home from the art gallery until five. Dad works late on Tuesdays which means that I can convince Mom to order a deep-dish pizza and binge watch The Romanoff’s with me.
I moved back in with my parents after the bottom dropped out with my ex-boyfriend. Two months ago, I came home to my amazing apartment in Wrigleyville and found him screwing the neighbor, Cassie. I told Eric that he could keep the apartment and the bed.
I step up to the counter and a guy with long dark hair and purple framed glasses greets me. “Tall vanilla latte and a lemon loaf, please.” I tap my phone to the payment terminal and the amount is debited from my account.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Name, please?”
A girl with blond hair and red lips plates my lemon loaf and sets it on the counter along with a fork. “Kerris,” I answer. “Which tables have plugins?”
The coffee machine whizzes and he juts his chin toward the front windows. “The one over there in the corner. Plus, it’s the best seat in the whole place.”
“Great, thanks.”
As I settle into the chair, I pull out my laptop. With Neil shutting me down on the Hart Hotel feature for Windy City Magazine I need to reach out to my contacts. I was banking on getting that project. Landing it would have set me up for the next six months. But now I’m even further away from the goal of moving out of my parents’ place.
Fucking Justine and her dick-sucking lips.
I blow out a deep breath as my screen comes to life.
“One vanilla latte for Kerris,” the barista announces.
When I raise my hand, she places the mug onto the counter. I grab my latte, then settle back into the chair.
Scrolling through my emails, I blow the steam away from my mug. Nothing pressing.
My fingers tap away at the keyboard.
Breaking News: Scandal and corruption rock the country of Sardones. The election that ousted the royal family was rigged.
“Oh my god,” I breathe. My shaking finger clicks on the link and I think of my childhood friend, Nicholas, and his family. Nicholas and I spent so much time together, his family was my family in many respects. Until they weren’t.
Three years ago, I’d gotten a tip that Nicholas’ younger brother Xavier was hanging out with Amy Sui, the US Olympic snowboarding champion at the Wynn in Vegas. I packed my shit and within a matter of hours I was on a plane. The story was huge because Amy had just won two gold medals and dumped her fiancé within a month. I was hoping that my connection to the former royal would get me a one-on-one interview, but Xavier ended up leaving Vegas the next day.
Xavier is a tad younger than Nicholas and me. I remember Nicholas teaching him how to blow bubbles and tie his shoes. Aside from the occasional outing, I don’t really know Xavier all that well.
These days, Prince Xavier is a known ladies’ man and it seems like the world is waiting for him to find happiness. Allegedly, he’s had his bouts with depression and alcohol. But that’s shit the tabloids cook up. It could all be bogus.
My eyes drift to the article attached to his Wikipedia page about his mom. Queen Kaylene was killed in an act of terrorism.
I remember a lot about the queen. She had a lovely singing voice and, despite having a full kitchen staff, she loved to bake. Xavier and Nicholas’ mother had this amazing light that seemed to follow her wherever she went. My heart broke for Nicholas when I heard the news. I wanted so badly to reach out to him, but we hadn’t spoken in years.
The last thing I read about Nicholas was that he had been dating Eva Vorster—socialite, fashion model and all around “It” girl.
I fish my phone from my bag and snap a quick picture of my workspace and goodies. If my professional pictures aren’t getting seen, at least my pics on Instagram get a lot of action. I cut into my lemon loaf and start reading the article,
The memoir of Sheldon was published just two years after his death. The man had been the private secretary to Major Denis Ettinger, the head the of People’s Party of Sardones. Mr. Sheldon worked with an independent author in the months before his death. During that time, he disclosed documents and tapes that revealed the election that removed the royal family had been rigged. Proof of ballot stuffing, corruption and racketeering. With all this irrefutable proof there is no question that the royal family will be reinstated.
But who will be king?
If the health rumors are true about King Eder, there’s no way the man can rule a country.
More than likely, Prince Ander will wear the Crown.
Holy shit. I wonder if my dad has heard the news yet? Dad was born in Sardones. He met my mom while she was studying abroad there. When the royal family was voted out, we had three months to pack up and leave the country. It was a law that anyone who worked directly for the royal family would be exiled as well.
I was in the States when everything went down. I spent the summer after my freshman year in Chicago interning at Michigan Avenue Magazine.
I shovel another bite of lemon loaf into my mouth and wash it down with my latte. My fingers hover over my keyboard. Letting out a shaky breath, I google Prince Ander of Sardones knowing that I’ll get more results using his real name.
Apparently, Nicholas has been busy, traveling to various places like Cape Town, Havana and Barcelona—not to mention, competing in moto-cross races all over Canada. There are a few articles suggesting that he and Eva have broken up, more specifically that she dumped him for reasons unknown. He has yet to confirm or deny and that was almost two months ago.
And now he has Instagram.
I click on the link to his Instagram and my heart thumps in my chest.
Click.
Click.
Click.
An hour and another latte later, I’m totally submersed and in a complete deep dive on Nicholas’ Instagram profile.
