Royally Matched

by Jenna Brandt

  Royally Matched

  Match Made in Heaven Series

  Jenna Brandt

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Locale and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or actual locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email jenna@jennabrandt.com.

  Text copyright © Jenna Brandt 2019.

  Royally Matched © Jenna Brandt 2019.

  Cover photo from depositphotos.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  A Note from the Author

  That’s not the End

  Also by Jenna Brandt

  Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Group

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To my family.

  You have inspired, encouraged, and believed in me.

  You all make me the best version of myself.

  Prologue

  Eight years ago

  Exhilaration filled Maxwell Gerard Beaumont’s body as he watched the final goal soar across the field and land in his opponents’ rugby net. The crowd roared around him, clapping, cheering, and shouting accolades of his championship winning hit.

  Though all eyes were on him, Max scanned the crowd, hoping to find one particular set looking at him with admiration. A few moments later, his heart filled with joy as he saw Lady Liliana Lockhart— or better known to close friends and family—Lily, standing towards the far end of the field in a pretty plum sweater and black slacks.

  She looked as enchanting as ever, with her long, brown hair slightly blowing in the wind. She was smiling in the most enticing way, and all Max wanted to do was run to her, stare into her golden eyes, and kiss her pretty pink lips.

  Before he could leave the field and make his way to her though, the rest of his team came running up to Max, picking him up, and placing him on their shoulders. They were dancing around the field, screaming they were the champions as the crowd continued to shout praises for their winning team.

  The cheerleading squad surrounded the rugby team, pouring out compliments and stating how great Max did. Despite all the flattery, he remained unaffected by the praise. He had tired from the constant attention he had received all his life being the Crown Prince of Triola.

  A year prior, he would have reveled in the attention he received, but after finding out his ex-girlfriend was only with him to be in the spotlight, he had stopped dating. That was until three months ago, when Lily ended up being his lab partner in biology class. The rare beauty turned his world upside down, and he found out he could have a meaningful relationship despite being the heir to a king.

  He patted the guys’ shoulders, saying, “I need to go take care of something.”

  Richard, his cousin and fellow teammate, chuckled. “I bet you do. Is that something wearing a purple sweater, by chance?”

  Max ignored the remark, not wanting to make his relationship with Lily—which he cherished—the target of any joke. Instead, he hopped down and pushed through the crowd, wanting to find her and share his victory with the person he cared most about.

  Lily had watched as her boyfriend, Max Beaumont, was carried around the rugby field of Grantmire Boarding School—the small, elite preparatory school for the children of royalty, dignitaries, and celebrities. Both of them attended the school and grew up together in the royal court of Triola, but only in the past couple of months had they formed a real connection.

  Her parents were ecstatic when they found out the news from a teacher at the school. They had been keeping close tabs on her progress since they had sent Lily to Grantmire as an attempt for her to catch the eye of Max. Her motivations for attending the school had laid elsewhere; the education was top-notch, and Lily wanted to get as far away from the royal court of Triola as she could. She hated the stuffy rules, the gossiping, and the judgment. Little did she know, she only traded one stifling life for another. The people at Grantmire were exactly like the people she grew up with in Triola. At least at Grantmire, she could focus on her studies—that was, until Max was assigned as her lab partner.

  He was an unexpected distraction—at least on her part—as she had no intentions to follow her parents’ orders when it came to the crown prince. Those chocolate eyes though, sucked her in against her will. She found herself drawn into their warmth without even knowing what was happening.

  What started out as a forced partnership by their teacher, turned into true friendship, and a month ago, something more. The relationship was new, but Lily was hopeful for their future.

  “There you are,” Max said with a smile, coming to a halt next to her. “I’m glad you waited for me. You were the first person I wanted to see when that goal went in.”

  The kind regard behind his comment made Lily’s face turn pink with pleasure. As he moved towards her, his dark eyes peered deep into her own, and she felt her stomach somersault with anticipation.

  Max had a way of making everything around her melt away until it was just the two of them. He reached out and pulled her towards him, then let his lips descend to hers. The kiss was tender, yet passionate, filled with the joy of the moment.

  He pulled back and gave her a lopsided grin. “That was worth every beating I took out there on the field,” Max admitted, “just to get one more kiss from you.”

  Lily let out a small laugh before saying, “I’m glad I could keep you motivated.”

  He picked her up and twirled her around, both of them laughing this time, completely caught up in the perfection of being together.

  Never had Lily felt so adored, like she was the only girl in the world for Max. She would have never believed the crown prince of her home country would fall for her.

  The rest of the team was yelling as they made their way off the field. Richard came up and patted Max on the back. “You better head with me to the locker room, Champ. Coach will want to talk to all of us before we head out to celebrate.”

  Max nodded. “All right.” Turning his attention back to Lily, he said, “I’ll text you once we’re done so you can come with me.”

  “Okay. A few of my friends are waving for me to join them. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

  After Max headed off with Richard, Lily made her way over to where Lady Isabella Rindell and Lady Margo Benett, Lily’s best friends, were waiting. Isabella was Spanish nobility, while Margo was from Triola like herself.

  “You and Max are just the cutest thing ever,” Isabella said with a giggle. “You’re perfect for each other.”

  “I keep thinking it’s a dream. I never thought I would find my perfect match this young,” Lily admitted, “especially since I wasn’t even looking.”

  “How romantic,” Margo sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to find a guy just like Max.”

  “You will one day, Margo,” Lily assured her friend. “It just happens when you least expect it.”

  “What do you guys have planned tonight after the bi
g celebration?” Isabella asked with a knowing smile. “Is tonight going to be the night?”

  Lily shook her head. “You know I’m waiting until I get married, Isabella. Just because I’m with Max now, it doesn’t change that.”

  “I always forget how old-fashioned you are,” Isabella stated. “You know Max has certain expectations. After all, his last girlfriend was Georgina, and we all know how she loved to brag about her and Max’s exploits. You don’t want him to break up with you because of it, or date someone else on the side.”

  It was true. Though Isabella was blunt about the situation, Lily was worried about her choice to stay abstinent. She hadn’t broached the subject with Max, but the more alone time they spent together, the different scenarios of his reaction rushed through her head. Not wanting to dwell on it or the uncomfortable feelings it stirred in her, Lily decided to go find Max instead.

  “I think the guys will be done changing out and talking to the coach soon. I’m going to go find him. I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Lily said, taking off without waiting for a response.

  Even though she had escaped her friend’s presence and despite her best efforts to push them aside, Isabella’s words continued to haunt her. Her classmates talked about guys only wanting one thing. This made her feel like she couldn’t give Max the one thing he would want. Would Max refrain from pressuring her for it? What would he think if she told him she wanted to wait to be intimate with him? Would he toss her aside? Would he look to someone else? She hoped he would support her decision, but she wondered how practical that was of her.

  As Lily approached the doors leading to the boys’ locker room, she heard Max’s familiar voice speaking to someone. “You can’t be here like this. What if Lily sees you?”

  “Who cares if she sees me?” she heard Lady Georgina Winston, Max’s ex-girlfriend, state with irritation. “I hope she does.”

  Lily stopped moving and ducked behind a bush. Part of her wanted to interrupt them, the other part wondered if this would answer all the troubling questions rolling around in her head. Was there something still going on between Georgina and Max? Had he been keeping it from Lily?

  “I told you to keep your distance. Why can’t you do what I tell you?” Max asked with frustration, as he pushed his hand through his dark hair.

  “Because, you know I’m exactly what you want,” Georgina stated, pressing her body up against his, “and need. Lily can’t—or should I say won’t. You need someone real,” she said, taking his hand and placing it on her chest, “who can be real with you.”

  Before Lily could decide whether she wanted to interrupt, Georgina leaned up and kissed Max on the mouth. Bile rose in Lily’s throat as she watched the other girl’s lips linger on her boyfriend’s mouth without him pulling away.

  Not being able to stomach another moment, Lily turned and ran from the awful situation behind her. She had her answer, Max wanted something Lily couldn’t give him. Though their relationship had barely begun, what they had was over. Lily knew she would never be the same again.

  Chapter One

  Present day

  The yacht was rocking more than normal, causing Max’s stomach to tighten with nausea. As he moved his head to the side, the pounding increased to a rapidly painful tempo. It felt like Triola’s annual Independence Day fireworks show was going off in his head.

  When he cracked his eyes open, the sunshine made him wince. He quickly retracted his eyelids, regretting his decision to have a third bottle of champagne the previous night.

  Max reached out his hand towards the nightstand, scrounging around for the button to summon Patrick. He needed a Bloody Mary, an I.V. bag, and sunglasses immediately.

  A few moments later, he heard the calm, formal tone of his royal valet from the double doors to the royal suite. “Good morning, Master Beaumont. Are you requiring your usual this afternoon?”

  The barely veiled disapproving tone wasn’t lost on Max. The only reason Patrick got away with it was because he had been assigned as Max’s personal valet since Max was a child. Patrick was more like family than a servant. Even upon Max’s insistence Patrick call him by his first name, the valet refused. He only relented to switching from “your royal highness” to “Master Beaumont” after years of hounding—and only when in private. In public, Patrick still insisted on using the insufferable royal title.

  Ignoring the judgment and formality, Max said, “Yes, Patrick, and you better make the Bloody Mary a double. Last night was a doozy. What time is it anyway?”

  “Three o’clock, Master Beaumont,” Patrick replied. “You’ve missed four calls from the king today. His Majesty demands you call him at once.”

  “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “He did not,” Patrick said, hesitating before he added, “but his tone showed it was not good. I wouldn’t keep him waiting any further.”

  Patrick entered the room and placed Max’s cell phone on the nightstand.

  Max slung his legs over the side of the bed, stretched out and grabbed his phone. Remembering the night before, he glanced next to him. The bed was empty. “Where’s Starla?” Max asked with confusion.

  “She’s sunbathing on the upper deck,” Patrick paused as he tried to mask a look of irritation, “in the nude. I tried to explain to her it was improper to have her do so on the royal yacht, but she informed me you told her to make herself at home.”

  Max let out a chuckle. “What can I say, Starla is a free spirit.”

  The sexy pop singer, Starla Stone, was known to be splashy. She loved making a scene and being the center of attention. This appealed to Max as he was in full swing of doing the same. When she had set her eyes on him at a nightclub in Monaco, he decided he could use the new distraction.

  “Indeed,” Patrick stated with an equally disapproving tone. “I will go get your usual while you call His Majesty. Will there be anything further, Master Beaumont?”

  “No, that will be all Patrick,” Max stated as he touched the screen of his cell phone, causing it to light up. Sure enough, there were four logged calls from his father. Whatever was going on was important, or he wouldn’t have made such a rapid string of calls.

  Max took in a deep breath, then clicked the top button. One ring later, his father’s royal secretary answered the phone. “Good afternoon. This is Sir Ronald Humphrey, secretary to his Royal Majesty, King Gerard James Beaumont. May I ask who is calling and in what regard.”

  Just by being on the phone with Ronald, Max could feel the tightening of the royal court around him. He had taken the royal yacht thousands of miles away and still couldn’t escape his family’s stifling legacy.

  “Hello, Ronald, this is Max. I’m calling to talk with my father.”

  There was a long pause on the other end before Ronald said, “Good afternoon, your Royal Highness. I will inform his Majesty you are ready to speak with him.”

  The phone clicked and there was symphony music that played in the background until two minutes later, Max’s father’s irritated voice took over the line. “I see you finally called me back.”

  “Patrick told me you were trying to reach me.”

  “I have been—unsuccessfully I might add. You realize that part of your responsibilities as the Crown Prince is to be available when I need to get a hold of you.”

  “I never agreed to that, Father,” Max countered. “It’s something you thrust upon me whenever you get the chance.”

  “We don’t get to choose what we are born into, Maxwell. You were born to privilege, and with it comes certain expectations and duties. You would do well to accept that rather than run from it.”

  “I’m not running from anything,” Max stated defensively, knowing denying it didn’t make it any less true.

  “If that was the case, you wouldn’t spend all your time hundreds of miles away partying on the family’s private island and yacht.”

  “Excuse me if I would rather enjoy my life than be forced to live it for others,” Max stated with res
entment. “Everyone else gets to live their lives as they want. I only wish to do the same.”

  “You aren’t like everyone else. I don’t know what happened to you, Maxwell. You were such a kind and caring boy growing up. I had such high hopes for you. Then something changed when you got older.”

  Max knew exactly what—or rather who—made him change, but he wasn’t about to open old wounds. Better to leave the past where it belonged: behind him. It was much easier focusing on having fun and floating around the world spending his family’s money.

  “Now that you’re done critiquing my failings, I think I will go and live down to your expectations for me,” Max stated sarcastically. “I’ve got a Bloody Mary waiting along with a blonde.”

  “Not so fast, Maxwell Gerard Beaumont. That’s why I’m calling you,” his father stated in an authoritative voice.

  “You called me to talk about my Bloody Mary?” Max teased, knowing it would push his father’s buttons.

  “No, I’m calling you about the blonde.”

  “Father, Mother can be awful, but isn’t it—”

  “Enough Maxwell,” his father shouted. “This isn’t a joking matter. You can’t wiggle your way out of every situation with a charming joke.”

  “I beg to differ. My phonebook is full of women that would argue the contrary. I’m quite good at it,” Max countered with a smirk that formed on his lips, even though he knew his father couldn’t see it.

  “Maxwell, you have crossed the line this time. That trouble-making pop star you’re carousing around with, has gotten you both plastered all over the news. The articles are less than flattering, and you are tarnishing the reputation of Triola.”