Crowns & Courtships Compilation Volume 1
Page 2
“It’s not yours to share. It’s mine.”
Up close, he realized everything about her screamed money. That shouldn’t be a surprise, not given her presence on a private stretch of sand. Manicured nails. Jewelry that dazzled. Way too fancy for a day at the beach.
“Are you really planning to spend the whole day on the beach with nothing but whatever you’ve got in that basket?” He reached over and peeked inside. A book. A tablet. Food. Water.
“Yes. I plan to do just that. I’m going to read a book or two. Eat. Spend time alone.”
Was she near tears?
“Hey.” His tone changed from teasing to concerned. “What is it?”
“Today is my least favorite day of the year.” She sat next to him, her skirt tucked neatly underneath her. “I want to spend it alone on the beach. Without you or anyone else.”
“Not even your family?”
“No. Not even my family. None of them know exactly what today means to me. They don’t understand how difficult it is.”
Jordan picked up a handful of sand and let it slowly trickle back to the ground. “I understand tough days. I’ve had more than my share.”
She didn’t reply but continued to stare at the waves.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m a great listener.” What made him say that? Did he really care what this woman had been through?
Something deep inside told him that, yes, he did care. Far more than he should.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then we can just sit. I’m good with that.” He took a long drink of water. “Does everyone in your life know this is a tough day, or are they going to expect you to put on a happy face for all of them?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to which?”
“Both. Everyone knows why today is a difficult day. Today and tomorrow, actually. But, in my family, you put on a happy face no matter what. At worst, you are allowed to be stoic.”
Jordan winced. “Ouch. That can’t be fun.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is.”
He wiped the sand from his hand off on his wet-suit-covered leg, then held it out to her. “If you’re not going to have me arrested, at least I should introduce myself. I’m Jordan.”
She shook his hand without looking at him. “Sofia. And I won’t have you arrested. Yet. But we are under surveillance, so don’t try anything.”
He chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about from me, Sofia. Do you have a last name? Mine is Haines.”
Sofia hesitated then shook her head. “Just Sofia.”
Jordan tried to stifle a grin. “I’m not sure I believe you don’t have a last name.”
“That is your choice, but it is the only answer you’re going to get.”
He didn’t reply for a moment. “So, Sofia, what do you do?”
It took her a minute to answer that question as well. “My family is wealthy. I will never have to work a day in my life until I take over for my father. I do charity work, and look pretty, mostly.”
It didn’t sound like a great life. “Well, you’ve got the look pretty part down.” Jordan tipped his water bottle like it was something to toast with. “There’s that.”
She glared at him. “It’s not much of an accomplishment.”
“If that’s basically your job, I’d guess you have to look your best at all times. No one can do that without feeling the pressure and eventually cracking under it.”
“I don’t have the luxury of cracking under pressure.”
Jordan hesitated. “You don’t always have a choice. Sometimes it just happens. Don’t ask how I know.” He took a big swig of water. He couldn’t let his thoughts go there.
Not today.
Astrid found herself wanting to know more. She should have called security and had this man removed from her beach rather than confronting him, but today she wanted to be alone. She didn’t want to deal with the security teams or her father or anyone else.
But somehow Jordan managed to convince her to allow him to stay. Maybe because he didn’t appear to know who she was. None of the normal deference had appeared when she was close enough for him to recognize her. He didn’t question her use of one of her middle names.
“Where are you from?” She’d known from the moment she saw him that he wasn’t a local.
“Canada. Little town in New Brunswick.”
“That is in the eastern portion of Canada, correct?” She’d studied Canadian geography once, many years earlier, when she’d accompanied her grandmother on a trip.
He looked impressed. “It is. Atlantic Standard Time Zone. Same as San Majoria. An hour ahead of the East Coast of the U.S.” After another swig of his water, he pointed toward the ocean. “I can’t see whatever mega-mansion you must have on this property from here. Can you see the water?”
Astrid shook her head. “A few glimpses from a couple places, but not really.”
“That’s sad. You live so close, but you can’t see it.”
“I don’t live here, not full time.”
“Can you see the water from your home?”
“When I moved away from my parents, I made sure I had the best view of the water I could.” She reached into her basket and pulled out her own water bottle. “It is almost my favorite view ever.”
“What’s your favorite view then?”
Astrid took a sip of water. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you that.”
“To tell me what your favorite view is?”
“Yes.”
He wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t. Not without more details about her life than she was willing to share.
Jordan twisted the lid back onto his water bottle then leaned back on his elbows. “Tell me more about yourself.”
She almost forgot he was talking about her. “What is there to tell? I was born into a wealthy dynasty. My job is to look pretty and raise money for charity. Today is the anniversary of the worst day of my life, a fact that is unlikely to ever change. What more do you want to know?”
He was unfazed by her comment. “What’s your favorite water sport? Do you surf? Windsurf? Body board? Jet ski?”
“Lounging. I like to watch, but I don’t participate.” She’d watched Andrei kite surf many times. “I do parasail from time to time, but that’s it.” She hadn’t in years. For all his other athletic prowess, Andrei had hated it. She hadn’t gone since not long after they started dating out of respect for his fears, though he had told her he didn’t mind if she did. He just wouldn’t join her.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her skirt. Wasn’t it on do not disturb? She pulled it out to see her father calling. After sending an automated text, she checked the screen. Six missed calls and a dozen text messages asking if she was okay and warning security would be there momentarily.
“Pardon me for a moment.” She swiped to open her phone and typed in her passcode.
Everything is fine. He was tired while windsurfing. He doesn’t even know who I am. I know you’ll want to check him out though - Jordan Haines. He’s Canadian. From New Brunswick.
Are you sure?
I’m sure, Papa. I know you have people watching me, but please, leave me be.
Very well.
Thank goodness.
“Security worried about me?” He couldn’t have seen what she typed.
“Something like that. I gave them your name. I’m sure a background check is already underway.”
“There’s nothing to find.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
He rolled onto his side, still propped on one elbow, and grinned at her. “I’m not worried.”
She reluctantly admitted to herself that he did have a very nice smile.
“So you like to watch aquatic sports, and you occasionally parasail. Not to be presumptuous, but I’m sure you can swim.”
“Like a fish,” she confirmed.
“What else do you like to do? When you’re not raising money for
all those charities.”
“Spend time with my family.”
“The all-powerful Majorian business moguls put a priority on family time. That’s nice to hear.”
It surprised Astrid to realize he genuinely meant it. “What brings you to San Majoria?”
He sobered. “I haven’t been back in two years. I haven’t windsurfed in a little over two years, but it was time to come back.”
“Why now?”
Jordan picked up a handful of sand and slowly let it flow through the opening on the bottom of his fist until it all returned to the beach. “My little sister married my best friend.”
“You’re not happy about this?”
“They’re perfect for each other, but it came out of nowhere. Two weeks ago, they were pretending to be an item to keep a creep from hitting on her while we were in Serenity Landing, Missouri on vacation. The next weekend, they were married. They basically eloped, though we were all there.” He snorted. “She even had royalty at her wedding.”
Astrid’s heart thudded to a stop. “Pardon?”
“We were staying in a suite next door to a couple from Mevendia. Rick and his wife. He’s a prince. Betsy hit it off with the wife.”
“They’re from Montevaro, not Mevendia.”
“Right.”
She’d never met Prince Richard and Princess Ellie. San Majoria was a footnote in the story of Belles Montagnes, but San Majoria owed the Commonwealth its very existence. If any other royal family could be considered friends, it should be the Eyjanian family, or possibly Islas del Sargasso and Auverignon, though she wouldn’t call any of them friends. But San Majoria and Eyjania were sister countries. Not in the same sense that Mevendia, Montevaro, and Ravenzario were sister countries through the Commonwealth of Belles Montagnes. San Majoria and Eyjania were more in the “our cities all have sister cities in the other country where our schools do the pen pal thing” sense.
Not so much pen pals anymore, of course, though there were still actual letters exchanged. Most of the correspondence was done via email or videos, including real time video chats.
“Is there a man in your life?”
Jordan’s question caught her off-guard. “What?”
“A man. Boyfriend, fiancé, husband.”
Astrid shook her head. “No. No one.” Not any of those.
“I can’t offer to take you to the kinds of places you’re probably used to, but would you be interested in a date sometime?”
Astrid stared at the waves as they crossed onto the beach, but didn’t answer.
How could she?
Her heart still belonged to Andrei, but something about Jordan…
Something made her want to say yes.
2
“Where are we going?” Jordan didn't like not knowing, but the yacht - one Sofia admitted didn't belong to her family - headed for an unknown destination.
“To wage a war.” Sofia almost certainly had her eyes closed behind those giant sunglasses she loved. Her long legs stretched out on the lounge chair, and Jordan had to force himself not to stare.
Sofia was an incredibly attractive woman.
She'd turned down his request for a date, but did invite him to join her on her beach the next day. And the next. And the one after that.
After two weeks of seeing her almost every day, he'd arrived to find a yacht anchored off-shore. Sofia stood on the bow of the top deck wearing the black swimsuit he'd seen her in a few times with a sarong type thing wrapped around her waist as she motioned him aboard. His windsurfing equipment was dismantled somewhere on a lower level.
But now he just stared, confused. “What?”
She raised an arm over her head. “Relax, viejo. You won't get hurt.”
“I am not an old man,” he muttered.
“You know your Spanish.”
Her amusement was worth it. Since that first day, he'd known he'd do almost anything to make her smile, to help clear the tinge of sadness that always hovered around her eyes. “I know enough.” Not much, but enough.
“You mean you can find the bathroom?”
Jordan chuckled and stretched his own legs out onto his lounge chair. The sun beating down almost made him wish he'd go without a shirt sometimes. Maybe someday soon. He would tan easily enough so he wouldn't be pasty white long.
But the scars…
“It’s not spoken much in San Majoria.” Jordan closed his eyes.
“We do have some Spanish heritage, if you go far enough back. My great-great-grandfather was Hispanic, and some of it has passed down. My mother calls my father viejo all the time.”
“How long until we get to this war?” Better to keep conversation on the innocuous and off family. Sofia didn’t like to talk about her family.
“About fifteen minutes, I think. It's usually a forty-five minute boat ride from the beach.”
“But this isn't your usual yacht so you're not sure,” he finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“Why not your family's yacht? Someone else using it?”
“No.”
She didn't elaborate, and Jordan decided not to push. “Do I need my suit of armor for this war?”
“No. This war is quite civilized.”
“I won't need to lay down my life to defend your honor or anything?”
“Highly unlikely.”
“Good. I normally don't like to do that sort of thing until I've known a girl at least a month.”
She smirked, but still didn't look at him.
He wasn't sure what to make of that. Even though they’d only spent a few hours a day together for the last two weeks, he thought he’d gotten to know parts of her pretty well. She definitely kept some things to herself and was only available for a little while most afternoons. Odd, but he’d take what he could get.
Because he liked Sofia. A lot. And not just because she was incredibly pretty. She seemed to like him, too.
But she didn't seem inclined to talk, so he did something brave. He reached over and took her hand, linking his fingers with hers.
“You all right?” he asked softly.
“Another hard day.”
“Related to the one a couple weeks ago or something else?”
Sofia didn't say anything, but did curl her fingers around his. “Related. After the days two weeks ago, there was a tough day the next day and again five days later. That was a Sunday this year, and I didn't see you that day. Today is another one.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He thought about checking the news from a couple weeks ago to see if there was anything about the anniversary of some event that might still affect her. It didn't seem likely that whatever it was had been newsworthy except to her. He also wanted her to trust him enough to tell him what bothered her so much.
“Just being here is more than I had last year.”
“You were alone all four days?”
“More or less. I am rarely completely alone.”
Jordan turned that over in his head. “You have security with you all the time or something? Because of your family's wealth?”
She nodded.
“Ma'am?”
A voice from behind made them both turn.
“Yes?” Sofia settled back into her seat.
“We will arrive in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Jordan scanned the horizon as best he could from behind his own sunglasses. A small cluster of palm trees appeared in the distance but nothing else. Could that be their destination? It wasn't much of one, if so.
The engine sounds changed, though. A reduction in power.
“Is that where we're headed?”
Sofia didn't look but answered anyway. “I would imagine so. A small island with palm trees on a little bit of a hill and not much else?”
“Yes.”
“That's the place.” She stood, far more elegantly than he could ever hope to out of a lounge chair. After tying the sarong back around her waist, Sofia turned to hi
m. “Are you coming?”
Jordan stumbled as he tried to stand up from his lounge chair. “This has to be the oddest war ever.”
She didn't say anything but walked down the staircase to the next deck. Jordan followed.
“Can I fight this war in my flip flops?”
“If you must.”
“I didn't bring my metal boot cover things from my armor so I guess I don't have much choice.”
The boat pulled in as close as it could. They transferred to a smaller one to get ashore. One of the crew members pulled the small boat even closer. Jordan jumped out so he could help Sofia instead of the random crew member.
Once safely in ankle deep water, she turned back and took a bag from someone else.
She held it up by one finger and waggled her eyebrows. “Let’s fight.”
Astrid struggled to hide her smile. War was a bit of a misnomer, but it was too much fun to tell Jordan everything right away.
Together, they trudged up the sand toward the small hill.
“Is that a flagpole?” Jordan stopped with his hands on his hips and stared toward the trees.
“Yes.” She passed him. “Come on.”
They made it a few more steps through the sand before he stopped again. “Wait. Is this like the war between Canada and the Danish over Hans Island?”
“This is actually far more peaceful than the Whiskey Wars.”
“How do you figure?” He began following her again.
“Because both of those countries actually want control over the island. This island holds no strategic importance for either of us.”
“Either of who? What's the other country?”
“Islas del Sargasso. This war has been going on for a century.” She finished the trek through the trees and set her bag at the foot of the flagpole. “Can you help?”
“Of course.” He reached for the ropes holding the other flag in place and began to lower it. “Do you fold it or wad it up in a ball?”
She had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Fold it properly. We are not savages.”
“Of course not.”
She couldn’t see it, but a grin probably covered his face.
He gathered the flag as he unclipped it from the rope. She took one end, and he the other, working together to fold it into a triangle.