by Elisa Leigh
A Queen For Christmas
A Forever Safe Christmas Book 25
Elisa Leigh
M.K. Moore
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Elisa Leigh & M.K. Moore
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Dedication
For those that believe in fairytales… your king is out there.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Author
Chapter One
His Majesty, Holden Artemis Alexi Montrose, King of Degros
“You need a queen, Your Majesty. Your people are not taking too kindly to the fact that you are a bachelor,” Grimes, my lead advisor says. He looks about as uncomfortable as I feel with this conversation.
“I do not see what my marital status has to do with how I run this country, Grimes. I am not a playboy, out there fucking a new woman every night," I growl. This kind of shit irritates the fuck out of me. Why must everything be so stately? I would give anything to have had a normal childhood. To be able to be a normal man, but then again if I had that, I wouldn’t be the king of a thriving nation. We are just now making our mark on the world political scale. It is everything I have worked for my whole life it seems. This is my life, for better or worse. I turn my full attention back to Grimes. He’s an old weathered man with greying hair and tired eyes, I realize now that I have no idea how old he is just that he’s been with my family since before I was born.
"It seems that your subjects are concerned that your lack of a wife makes you unsettled," he says looking at anything but me.
"Unsettled? That makes no sense, Grimes. I am the most settled man I know." I have been king far longer than I should have been. My mother died in childbirth. My father was never the same again.
Eventually, he died of a broken heart when I was eleven. Degros had no laws in place that required or even allowed a surrogate ruler to help me until I was of age. I received a crash course in the ways of Degros but everything else was all me. Thank God other world leaders let me figure shit out because there is no way we would have survived an invasion. Degros is a large country in Western Europe. English is our national language but French and Spanish are spoken here as well. My people want for nothing, so why they are so fixated on this, I know not.
That was over twenty years ago now. I am quickly approaching my thirty-second birthday and while I have been thinking of late that I wouldn't mind a wife, I don't want my people to think that I would acquiesce to their insane demands so easily.
"Perhaps, settled is not the right word. Grounded works better," Grimes says hastily.
"Leave me," I tell him, and he swiftly exits my study. I need to think and that is hard to do when my ‘yes man’ is standing right beside me ready to do my bidding.
As impossible as it might be to believe, I have barely had a moment to find a woman who could possibly be my wife. I have been more concerned about ruling this nation effectively than I have been with my own happiness. I refuse to marry for anything less than love. One-night stands are not feasible for a man in my position, not that I ever wanted to do something like that. Something I admire about my father, which is what led to his downfall was his love and devotion to my mother. The people of Degros loved my mother almost as much as my father did. She was known to have a giving heart and stood up for those who didn’t have a voice. They also admired my father and his fair principles as well as strong leadership, even through his heartbreak he held tight to those beliefs until his dying day.
No, the woman for me must be able to handle being a queen. She should be poised when necessary, but warm with our children. It won’t be boarding schools and a million nannies for them. I want my empty home to be filled with joy and laughter. I also want her to be comfortable around me. I have been told that I am an intimidating man. I'll need a queen who can keep up with me, none of that “two steps behind me” nonsense. I not only want a lover but someone I can confide in and help lead this country with me.
I cannot believe that I am entertaining this idea, but the more I think about it, the more I want it all. A wife, children, the ultimate dream. But how to find that? A matchmaker? No, that could be problematic. A ball. That might just work. Satisfy the people as well as give me a chance to see suitable candidates without them knowing I am looking for a bride. I want them to be themselves not a version they think I want to see. A Christmastide Ball will be the perfect excuse.
"Grimes!" I shout and the man comes walking back into my study, ready for whatever I need. He's always there when I need him. I should tell him that I appreciate him more often.
"Yes, milord?" he asks, bowing deeply. I roll my eyes. He knows I hate that shit. At this point, I know he does it on purpose to see if he pisses me off. He usually does. I inherited him from my father and he's excellent at his job.
"Stand up, Grimes,” I say impatiently. I don’t have time for this with Christmas less than two weeks away. I gesture towards the chairs in front of my desk. “Sit down, please. This might take a while. I have decided to throw a ball on Christmas Eve. Invite everyone, especially eligible ladies.”
“A ball?” he questions.
“Yes. It will be the perfect opportunity to find a wife. Keep my reasons for the ball to yourself,” I tell him.
“Of course, sir. Discretion is my job,” he reminds me.
“See to it that it is. I will not take too kindly to any of those women finding out.”
“Of course. I would sooner die than embarrass the crown. I would never do anything to dishonor the generations of service my family has provided yours.”
“Alright, Grimes. I get it. I do not believe dishonor is in your nature. Really, I am only thinking of the ladies. I do not want any of them thinking that they are on display like a cattle auction.”
“Of course, sir. I will get invitations out tomorrow at the latest. Is there a day you had in mind?”
“Christmas Eve,” I tell him. My father always said there was something magical about Christmas and I think it’s time to see if that holds true.
“But, milord,” he sputters. “That’s less than two weeks from now.”
“Garrett will assist you,” I tell him volunteering my personal secretary for the task.
“No offense, Your Majesty, but Garrett knows nothing about planning a ball.”
“What do you really know, Grimes? You will use the party planner we have on retainer and we both know it. I just meant he will help with the invites.”
“You are right, of course. I am just feeling overwhelmed,” he says.
“And I appreciate that Grimes, but you are the one who brought this nonsense to me,” I tell him.
“I know. You have no idea how much I regret that now,” he says candidly. Then he realizes what he has said. “I mean,” he starts, but I hold up my hand.
“Do not worry about that, Grimes,” I say chuckling. “I am beginning to think this was for the best. You best get to work though,” I say, and he bows himself out of the room.
Yes, the more I think about it, the more I want a queen for Christmas.
I always get what I want.
Chapter Two
Her Royal Hig
hness, Grace Kelly Ann Reynolds, Princess of Morea
“Why couldn’t we have taken the jet?” My cousin, Sarina whines from the back seat.
I roll my eyes and silently vow to give my father an earful once we make it back home for making me bring her with me. My father, the crowned King of Morea, is a strong but merciful ruler. He was the king long before I was born and has been ever since. He might be tough as nails on everyone else, but to my mother and me, he’s a complete teddy bear. Once he steps down from the throne, his crown will go to my older brother, Prince Christian. Christian is in no hurry to rule a kingdom though. As a high-ranking officer in our Army, he’d rather focus on our military than ruling a kingdom.
When I received the invitation for the Christmastide Ball, being thrown by the mysterious King of Degros, I jumped at the chance to go. You don’t hear much about King Montrose, as he appears to be a private person. He is young, well younger than most at thirty-one years old, and very handsome. He’s tall and muscular, looking more like one of his private security, than a king himself. There isn’t much said about him online or in the papers that don’t have to do with the changes he has made to his kingdom and how it’s prospering now more than ever. Every once in a while, someone will post a story about him being interested in men rather than women or will make mention of prostitutes he brings back to his dungeon to fulfill his BDSM fantasies. There’s no truth to these stories, but the absence of news has others creating falsehoods. In reality, no one knows the truth and he hasn’t spoken up about it. I’ve always wondered about the handsome king that no one knows anything about.
What I know for certain is that his parents died when he was young, forcing him to be the king much earlier than he should have been. I couldn’t imagine losing my family but being forced at such a young age to rule a kingdom couldn’t have been easy. My father admires what he has done for his kingdom over the years and I have to agree with him. I remember when I was a little girl, probably no more than five or six, my father made a few trips out to see him to offer his support, but after a while, he quit going. Father never spoke about what happened or why King Montrose never accepted. For the first time since he’s been king, he’s opened up his palace and welcomed in the public. This is the highlight of the season, one not even I can resist.
Life in the palace has been underwhelming since I came back from University. My father is very protective of me and doesn’t let me get far without my protection detail. When I told him I would be going to the ball he thought it was a great idea for me to get out. When I insisted that I drive myself he scoffed at the idea. “Princesses don’t drive themselves, Gracie. If you want to take the car instead of the jet, Harry will drive you.” He insisted.
After hours of arguing about my freedom and right to drive, he acquiesced to my demands and told me if I were set on going, I needed to take Sarina with me. Looking back, I should have taken the jet and saved myself the headache. Learning from my brother, I made quick work of my security detail losing them after about an hour of our trip. Two hours later I’m still beaming with pride that I was able to lose them. I’ll have to tell Christian about this, although I doubt he’ll believe me. He still treats me like I’m ten.
“I mean really, Gracie. Did you have to insist that we take your car?”
The fact that she used the nickname only my immediate family uses grates on my nerves. “You didn’t have to come, Sarina.” I grit through my clenched teeth.
Sarina is nineteen, and only a few years younger than me. You’d think since we’re so close in age and our mothers are sisters, we would be the best of friends. Not even close. We have been complete opposites for as far back as I can remember. While she loves to be the center of attention, I’m happy to slip to the back of the room with no one the wiser. Every year she would come to my birthday party and every year she would find a way to make it about her. I can’t tell you how many times I’d wind up in the garden alone with a book while she mingled with the other children, spreading lies about me. They’ve always kept their distance since I am the king’s daughter, but my shyness coupled with Sarina’s lies about me made everything worse. In time I learned to ignore it and forged my own path. When I finished my schooling, I went on to a prestigious university getting my degree as a therapist. From what I’ve heard and have seen in the papers, Sarina barely finished school and has done nothing of value with her life.
She huffs from the back seat pulling me out of the memories that still sting a bit. Looking in the rearview mirror I find her arms crossed over her chest looking bitchy as ever. “You know the only reason I was allowed to go to the ball is that I came with you.” She snips.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a sloppy mess your parents would trust you on your own,” I mumble under my breath.
“What did you just say?” She screeches.
“Look Sarina let’s just get through this weekend as best as we can. Let’s not pretend like we’re the best of friends when we aren’t. We’ll go to the ball and have fun, separately. At the end of the weekend, make sure to meet me back at my car”
“Deal.” She says with a little less attitude.
With that settled, I pick up my speed in hopes of making it to the king’s estate sooner rather than later. The ball’s festivities start today with so many coming in from out of town, we’ve been invited to stay at his estate. Tomorrow will be a tour of his grounds and lunch with the king. Then tomorrow night is the official ball. This is the first time the public has been let into his world. With so many curious people it’s sure to be an interesting weekend.
We’re in the last leg of our drive when the grey clouds roll in and lightning cracks in the darkening sky. Seconds later fat raindrops beat against my windshield making it difficult for me to see more than ten feet in front of my SUV. Even with my fastest wiper setting, it’s hard to see and dread pools in the pit of my stomach. “That’s just freaking perfect.” I groan, suddenly regretting my need for independence.
I can barely see the red lights in front of me, but I press on my breaks hoping to avoid an accident. I’m successful, but the driver behind me, not so much. I’m hit from behind, causing me to slide off the road into a ditch.
Sarina screams from the back seat, but I quickly turn around to glare at her once I’ve slammed on my breaks and we are no longer moving. “Chill out! We are going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. Now shut up!” I shout, tired of her shit.
If the person who hit me stopped, I can’t see them. They probably drove off, assholes. Pissed, I fling open my door to assess the situation and realize everything isn’t as fine as I just announced. We’re stuck in the mud and if we don’t get out of this quickly, we won’t be able to. The rain is pouring, and the wind is whipping against my face as the temperature drops drastically. With my soaking wet clothes, I get back into my SUV and attempt to get out of the mess we’re in by pressing on the gas pedal. The attempt is in vain because my tires end up spinning out and we go nowhere.
“I knew you shouldn’t have driven. You’re a terrible driver.” Sarina says with vehemence.
Doing my best to not lose my shit I take a few deep breaths. “Do you know how to drive?” I ask.
She snorts. “Of course, I do. Far better than you I must add.”
“We’re stuck in the mud. I’m going to get out and go to the back to try and push us out, I need you to crawl up to the front seat and press on the gas when I hit the car.”
I’m looking at her in the rearview mirror waiting for a response when she finally wrinkles her nose. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
I have to hit the vehicle three times before she presses on the gas, slinging mud all over me. It’s then that another SUV pulls over behind us and one of my guards gets out and walks towards me, umbrella in hand. “We’ll take it from here Princess.” He says, guiding me to the SUV he pulled up in.
Just great. This is just one more thing my father will be able to use against me next time I try for my independence.
At this point, I’m in no mood to go the ball, but if I turned around now, I’d have to deal with Sarina’s bitching and my father’s righteous attitude.
Chapter Three
Holden
The welcome dinner and dancing event that Grimes set up is well underway and despite all the ladies milling about, not one has spoken to me since the receiving line. I honestly do not know if I am happy about that or not. They have broken into groups and are talking behind their hand fans. Each one is more elaborate and ridiculous than the last. I barely refrain from rolling my eyes at them. This is tedious at best. It seems Grimes only invited eligible women for the event. I told him to do so, but I would have hoped he would mix it up a bit, so it was not this obvious. What’s done is done. I probably should have been more specific.
At my wit’s end, I grab a glass of champagne and head out onto the open terrace that is blessedly silent. The air is chilled from the rain that set in from the mountains earlier and I have a feeling it will snow just in time for Christmas.
I set the glass on the ornate concrete balcony and pull a cigar out of my coat pocket. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale the sweet scent. I know I said I wanted this elaborate party but now that I am in this position, I am not sure. Being unsure of something is an entirely new feeling for me and I do not care for it. I should have known better, but if I have to spend the weekend dealing with these women, I am bound to go mad.
I down my champagne and take in the view of my beautiful estate, while simultaneously polluting the air with the aromatic plumes of smoke from my cigar. This particular brand is Cuban and like a wine taster, a seasoned cigar smoker can detect certain notes within the cigar. For instance, this one leaves behind scents like wood, leather, and the soil after the rain. It's my favorite.