by Cate Remy
My Royal Billionaire Boss
Cate Remy
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Afterword
Books by Cate Remy
About the Author
A Peachtree Billionaires Novel
Clean Billionaire Romance
Written by
Cate Remy
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, dialogue, incidents, and places either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
My Royal Billionaire Boss. Copyright 2018 by Cate Remy
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be resold, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Piracy is illegal. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
Atlanta, Georgia
“Congratulations, Shae. You’ve been officially promoted to concierge.”
Shae Lawson stood across the front desk as Mr. Hightower, the Kleghorn Hotel manager, handed her a new name tag and key card to gain access into the computer system and service elevators. She was happy to be acknowledged for her hard work after operating as the front desk clerk for the past two years, but the promotion was in name only. She had no increase in wages. Even so, she needed the job to keep the bills paid. “Thank you, Mr. Hightower.” She slipped the card into her uniform pants pocket.
“Don’t put the card away yet. You’re going to use it tonight.”
She glanced at the computer, where she had clocked out for the evening. “Do you want me to work a late shift tonight?”
“No, I’d like you to take care of one last round of business before you head home. Go up to the royal suite and see if the guest wants anything. He just checked in twenty minutes ago.”
“He did?” Shae manned the front desk for the past four hours. No one came by within the last twenty minutes. She figured Mr. Hightower made a mistake. The manager had been in meetings all afternoon.
“His people contacted me personally.”
His people. This guy must be pretty important stuff. Then again, most guests who could afford to stay in the royal suite usually were.
Mr. Hightower slung a coordinating bag collection consisting of messenger bag, lunch carton, and laptop bag on his upper body. “I’d do it myself, but my wife just went into labor. I’m off to welcome my daughter into the world.”
“You’re the one who should be told congratulations.”
“Thanks, Shae.” He hauled everything to the revolving door. “Remember what I said to everyone at the last staff meeting. Be discreet around royal suite guests.”
Who was this person staying at the hotel? Shae had to break into a light jog as her manager sped to the hotel revolving doors. “Mr. Hightower, what’s the guest’s na-”
“Good night. I trust you.” The hotel manager was halfway outside before he finished speaking.
Shae walked back to the front desk. She scanned the lobby. Guests perched on armchairs and sofas, perusing their laptops or conversing. She manned the desk until another hotel employee Misty arrived for the night shift five minutes later.
“I’m going upstairs to check on the guest in the royal suite.”
Misty gave an absent nod, her eyes glued to the flat screen television in the corner of the lobby. Shae glanced at it. The channel was airing coverage of a royal wedding in Europe. Not another one. “Misty, didn’t you say you watched the royal wedding over the weekend?”
“I never get tired of it, you know? It’s like watching a real-life fairytale.”
“More like taxpayer money being wasted,” Shae mumbled as she walked to the elevator. She never understood the hysteria over royal weddings. Aside from the crazy outfits and stuffy protocol, royals were just like everyone else getting hitched. Well, maybe there was a few million dollars difference in wedding decorations, give or take, but it didn’t mean anything.
She used her new access card to make the elevator bypass all other floors to reach the thirty-second floor. A minute later, the doors opened to another television playing in the small lounge by the elevators. More coverage of royals. The news channel had a scrawling headline about another aristocratic family’s plan to visit the States over the summer. Whatever.
She made it to the hotel’s most luxurious suite. Normally, only diplomats, big corporate execs and honeymooners checked into the suite. Shae briefly wondered who occupied it before she knocked on the door.
Loud music blared from the inside. Riotous laughter, muffled by the walls, still managed to break through to the outside. Sounds like somebody’s having a party. Shea doubted they heard her knock. She raised her fist to try again.
The door opened before her fist touched the door. Shae blinked twice as a tall, gorgeous man with a shock of thick, red hair and a full beard answered. He wore nothing but swim trunks and an impressive set of pecs.
“Are you here for the party?”
“Excuse me?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music behind him. He sounded like he had a French or British accent, but his speech was also a bit slurred, like he had a little too much to drink.
“I said,” he raised his voice as well, “are you here for the pool party?”
Shae recalled the royal suite had its own private pool on the roof. “No, I’m Shae, the concierge. I came here to check on you.”
“Here I am.” He spread his arms wide. His biceps flexed.
He had nice muscles, but she was unimpressed. Was his comment supposed to mean something?
Before she could speak again, two burly men in dark suits came to the door. “Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to step back,” the one with grey hair at his temples stated. He had the same accent as the tipsy ginger.
“I work at this hotel. Who are you?”
“Security detail. Ma’am, I have to ask you again to step back. This will only take a moment.”
Shae did as he said, seeing as how he looked like he outweighed her by at least ninety pounds. He remained in front of the door while his friend produced a metal detecting wand and waved it in front of her face. He did a head to toe swipe. “She’s clean. No weapons.”
“Make your business quick.” Grey Temples stepped through the open doorway. The guy with the wand followed.
She was still reeling from the weird encounter when the red-haired man reappeared. “Sorry about them.” He gave an apologetic smile. “They do that to everyone.”
“Are you a dignitary?”
“You might say that.” He gave her a slightly lopsided grin.
Perhaps dignitary was the wrong word. He had good looks and a foreign accent, but Shae couldn’t see much that was dignified about him or the loud party going on in the suite.
“What can I do for
you?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I have other guests I need to check on before I leave for the night.” The second part wasn’t true, but she wanted to do her job and let the rowdy guest get back to whatever antics he was up to. She peeked over his shoulder and saw people in bathing suits dancing and drinking beer.
“I need someone to iron my shirt and polish my shoes.”
“Ok. I’ll take them to our laundry service.”
“I’m not finished. I want breakfast for one delivered from this city’s best brunch restaurant, promptly at seven. I need an itinerary of the city’s top tourist destinations, also delivered at that time. Oh, a print copy of the newspaper and a list of the city’s top companies. I’d get them myself, but someone dropped my tablet in the pool.”
Shae attempted to mentally store the to-do list he rattled off to her. How he managed to make such a lengthy request while tipsy, she didn’t know. “I’ll need the shoes and shirt you want to wear tomorrow.”
He shut the door and reappeared moments later with the articles of clothing. She took the kid leather shoes and Savile Row-tailored dress shirt that probably cost more than an entire month’s rent of her two bedroom apartment. “Someone from the staff will deliver these to you at six,” she said, hoping he took the hint to set his alarm. Or maybe shut down the party early.
He smiled down at her. He had green eyes. Where had she seen him before? He looked somewhat familiar. “Are you sure you can’t stay for the pool party?”
“I’m dead certain.” Shae slung the shirt over one shoulder and carried the shoes in her other hand. She turned and left the mystery guest standing in the doorway.
Shae was up past midnight in her apartment fulfilling her first requests as hotel concierge. In addition to addressing the modest requests of the other guests, she spent most of the night in front of her laptop creating a sightseeing itinerary and list of Atlanta’s big businesses for the unnamed guest in the royal suite. Her back protested from sitting in a hard wooden chair at the kitchen table.
“What are you doing up?” Chelsea, her roommate, beelined into the kitchen. Fuzzy pink pajama pants dragging the floor, she moved towards the fridge for a midnight snack.
“I’m making an itinerary for one of the hotel guests.”
Her roommate popped open a plastic lid containing leftover chicken salad. “Why so late at night?”
“This is a client from the royal suite.”
“You don’t know the client’s name?”
“I can’t get into the hotel guest registry from my laptop. Even if I could, most guests at the royal suite check in under fake names.”
Chelsea rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers for a fork. “Ooh, sounds like this person’s super important.”
“More like super inconsiderate.” She finished the itinerary and saved the document to print out later. “He tried to hit on me. Then his security guards checked me for weapons. He was throwing a party when I came to check on him.”
“Parties are always fun,” Chelsea said around a mouthful of chicken salad.
“Not for me. I’ve got a term paper to work on and a new job promotion.”
“Wow, congrats. Girl, you work so hard.”
“Like I have a choice?”
“You sound like an old woman. You’re only twenty-three.”
“Sometimes I feel old.” Shae stood up and stretched. One of her feet fell asleep. She did a little dance around the table to restore blood flow. “My promotion doesn’t come with a pay increase, though.”
“Ugh.”
“I know, but I need to pay the rent, so I’m keeping this job for a while.” Shae closed her laptop. “Nutty clients and all.”
Chelsea stuck the lid on the chicken salad. “If there’s anyone who can handle them, it’s you. Just try to let loose every once in a while. You’re still wearing your uniform.”
Shae looked down at her black blouse and grey pants. “At least I took off my jacket.”
Her roommate rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Shae.” She tossed her fork into the sink and returned to her room.
Shae packed up her laptop for tomorrow’s class. Even though it wouldn’t be until the evening, she needed to pack everything to get from work at the hotel to night classes at the university. First things first. She had to deliver the completed requests to the redhead in the royal suite. Just who was this mystery guest?
Donovan woke up with a headache. Was it morning already? Sunlight laser-beamed through the blinds, straight for his eyes. He groaned and rolled over in bed. A half-consumed bottle of beer sat on the edge of the nightstand.
He threw on a t-shirt to go with his shorts, brushed his teeth, and opened the doors to the rest of the royal suite. It looked like the room sustained a contained explosion. Couch cushions lay strewn everywhere but on the couch. Bottles lined the coffee table, along with empty glasses. Wet towels covered the television. The whole room smelled like chlorine.
“Splendid,” he muttered. This was what he got for letting an old American friend who went to Oxford with him come to visit. The guy made it sound like his work buddies were at least grown up enough to pick up after themselves when they left the party.
He found his cell phone on the kitchenette counter, sitting atop a bag of airline peanuts. He dialed the number to reach his security detail.
“Murphy speaking, Your Highness.”
“What happened to all the guests last night?”
“You don’t remember, sir?”
He felt foolish and responded firmly, “I wouldn’t ask if I did.”
“Right, sir. You retired early after your swim. You told your guests they could continue to enjoy the drinks and pool until midnight. Giles and I sent them out because they were getting a little rowdy.” Murphy referred to the other guard.
“Thank you. I should have also requested a housekeeping service to clean up after them.”
“We didn’t wish to disturb you while you slept. Should we call one for you now?”
“It can wait until after I leave to go to my meeting.” Donovan looked in the front closet. Someone stashed a beer bottle in the pocket of one of his suit jackets. He tossed the bottle into the already overflowing trash can. “Where are my dress shirt and shoes?”
“I’m not sure, sir. I think you put them in the care of the young female concierge who stopped by yesterday evening.”
“That’s right.” He recalled her immediately, though he couldn’t remember her exact features, thanks to the martini he had on the plane and the beer later after landing. He wished he hadn’t gone overboard. He remembered she wore a low ponytail that flicked across her shoulders when she walked away from him in a huff. He tried harder to recall her appearance. An image surfaced of her heart-shaped face and caramel brown skin tone. “Now I remember her.”
“Do you want to contact her, Your Highness?”
Donovan got another recollection, this time of the woman frowning. Did he say or do anything to cause the reaction? He was truly sorry. He was in the process of turning over a new leaf, but old habits reared their ugly heads from time to time.
“Prince Donovan, would you like for us to find the concierge?”
“No. I’ll do it. I need to get a hold of my shirt and shoes if I want to get to the meeting this morning.” He ended the call and set the phone on the counter. He started straightening up the room. Housekeeping or no housekeeping, he couldn’t let the concierge think he was sloppy by nature. He was Donovan Caldwell, Crown Prince of Severn after all.
Chapter Two
Coffee and newspapers in hand, Shae jogged into the Kleghorn the next morning after racing from the light rail station. When she entered the hotel at six-thirty, the desk clerk gave her the royal suite guest’s neatly-pressed dress shirt and polished shoes in two bags labeled with the room number.
“It’s after six. Why weren’t these taken to the suite already?” she asked.
“The laundry service was running late,”
he replied. “They said their washing machines were on the fritz.”
“All of them?”
The clerk shrugged.
Shae sighed and went to grab a cart to haul the garment bags and the guest’s requested newspapers. She set her backpack behind the desk and fished out her flash drive from the front pocket. “I need two documents printed. They’re labeled Itinerary and Big Bucks Companies.”
“Big what companies?”
“I was up past midnight working on it. My creativity ran out as soon as I hit Save.”
The printer spat out the pages. Shae snatched them up and tucked them under her arm. She wheeled the cart to the elevator.
She gulped half of her double espresso latte on the way to the thirty-second floor. She rolled the cart up to the door of the royal suite and knocked. “Concierge.”
The mystery guest answered this time in a pair of grey suit pants and a crisp white short-sleeve undershirt. His beard was trimmed and his wavy hair was combed neatly into place. The soft hallway lighting made the surface carry a coppery glow. “Good morning. Shae, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, surprised he remembered. Or he could’ve just glanced at her name tag. She viewed him. He cleaned up very well from the night before.
“If you’d please come in for a moment, I’d like to have a word with you.” He took hold of the cart and pulled it inside. Shae, still holding on the other end, got pulled along, too.
The royal suite appeared less disheveled this morning. Bottles and snack wrappers were gone from the tables and floor. She saw them stacked in and next to the trash can in the kitchen. She peeked around his shoulder.