He had to admit that his engagement to socialite Carrie Simmons had been a gamble. She was used to a jet-set lifestyle, filled with travel and excitement, where he had always preferred a quieter vibe. Being raised as one of the social elite, Carrie’s upbringing had taken her all over the world. She was used to visiting island resorts in Bali and frequenting the hottest Parisian clubs, staying in luxury hotels, enjoying spa packages and the most exclusive suites. Because of all the travel she expected, Aldon had given up his hopes for an academic career in economics. Once their relationship had begun in earnest, his father had appointed both himself and Carrie global ambassadors of Sovalon, so they traveled together and developed relationships with leaders worldwide.
It all had made him very tired. While he couldn’t claim he was exactly pleased to be here, part of him thought that this retreat was long overdue. And if he had to hide out anywhere, he could do much worse than here. As much as he was broken-hearted to have found out about Carrie’s affair with a famous actor, ten years her junior, at least he had somewhere to hide out for a while. He planned on spending his time here at Thistledown Valley with his head in a few finance and budgeting texts. Perhaps now that Carrie had decided to pursue her destiny as a cougar, he would jump back into his first love—economics—and get back to work on his post-graduate degree.
His ex-fiancée could take the few days she’d requested to box up her things and move them out of his plush city-center condo, while he immersed himself in the quiet of the countryside. A taste of regret filled his mouth at the thought of Carrie, professionally done blond hair—augmented with hundreds of dollars-worth of extensions—movie-star sunglasses, and chemically whitened teeth, giving orders to his staff about what to pack and where to put it, texting her new beau while being carted around in his limo.
Damn her for cheating. How selfish of her! Anger bubbled inside his veins.
She’d ruined everything.
He wished he could make himself believe that they were never a good match, that he was better off without her. He could tell himself that she was self-centered, vain. It was at least partially true. She’d been spoiled, no doubt. She’d had a lifetime of always getting exactly what she wanted, and it had blinded her to the idea that there were some things she couldn’t have, or at least some things she couldn’t do. But underneath the decadence, she still had all the qualities that had made her such an ideal match. She was beautiful and charming, clever and poised. He’d always been proud to have her on his arm, in his life. He’d believed they fit well together. It hadn’t been a love match for the ages, but so what? She’d been a partner he could rely on, and that was better than what most people had. The destruction of that trust had been the toughest blow when he’d learned about her affair.
At least the press hadn’t caught wind of the details of the break-up. They’d certainly published pics of Carrie and her new man having brunch and doing other innocuous things, but an affair was only speculation at this point. There was no proof yet. His father had done a quick sweep of all the juicy bits and had made sure his team put a lockdown on the real reason the wedding was being “postponed,” as the public version of the story went. So when Carrie needed the penthouse to herself for a few days, he couldn’t stay anywhere in the capital. Not when everyone there would expect him to continue playing the role of the happy bridegroom. Thistledown Valley was the only place he could think of where he could go and brood in private, away from the public eye.
He killed the engine and exited the car, taking a deep breath of the country air into his lungs. This respite would be good for him. He hadn’t visited Thistledown Valley in years, and the sprawling estate was the perfect place to hunker down and nurse his wounds before making his way back into the spotlight of royal life.
Aldon popped the trunk and eyed his bags. It had been a long time since he’d unloaded his luggage on his own. Again, a splinter of annoyance stabbed at him, as he thought of his staff, aiding Carrie with her move.
“Might be nice to do things for myself for a change,” he muttered under his breath and dug the bags out of the car, struck by the intense quiet of his surroundings. Other than the occasional birdsong or buzz of a bee, it was silent here. An air of peace fell over him.
Also quite nice for a change.
Just then his cell phone buzzed.
“Aldon here,” he said into the phone.
“Prince Aldon, it’s Laila.”
Why was the aide to his personal assistant calling? She sounded rather flustered.
“Yes, Laila?”
“Prince Aldon, I am so, so sorry!”
“Sorry?”
“Yes, on behalf of the entire staff, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not thinking to send staff out ahead of you, sir.” The young woman was out-of-breath. “You’re out there in Thistlytown—”
“Um, it’s Thistledown, Laila.”
“Yes, yes, Thistledown, sorry, it’s just I’ve never actually even heard of the place, you know?”
Aldon’s patience was waning. What was the purpose of Laila’s rambling call?
“We all feel just awful that you’re there all alone, having to worry about your bags and the bedding and the meals… oh, dear! The meals!”
Aldon rolled his eyes.
“Laila, please, it’s really fine,” he reassured the twittering young aide. “I’m completely able to take care of myself out here, and if I need anything, I’m sure the caretaker will get me squared away. In fact, I think I’ll quite enjoy the time alone.”
“Nevertheless, sir, a temporary valet is being vetted and will hopefully arrive soon for you,” she said. “Oh, sir, I’m so, so terribly sorry for your troubles. We’ll have the valet there as soon as possible.”
Was the woman crying? She sounded like it.
“No hurry, really,” Aldon continued. “My biggest concern is that my staff put their best effort into getting Carrie… situated in her new living space.” In other words, get her out of the condo ASAP.
Aldon hung up and resumed carrying his bags up to the veranda of the castle, where he unlocked the tall arched wooden doorway and ventured inside.
The high ceilings of the foyer lent an echo to the sound of his footsteps in the empty house. The caretaker had clearly been doing their job, because even though no one had inhabited the castle for years, it seemed to have been recently cleaned. He didn’t know how often the person came by, but if they didn’t come during his stay, he’d have to leave a note of thanks. Perhaps he could speak to the steward who oversaw his estates and see to some sort of holiday bonus.
Clean, quiet, and unoccupied. Aldon welcomed the alone and quiet part of the equation, but the castle almost felt ghostly. Why would he have expected an empty castle to feel cozy?
Suddenly, the sound of giggling lit up the foyer, causing Aldon to jump with surprise then turn in a circle to decipher where the sound had come from. A woman’s voice called out from down the hallway. If Aldon remembered the layout of the home correctly, the sound was coming from the servants’ quarters.
“Please be patient and wait outside,” the voice said and then began humming a song Aldon didn’t recognize.
He followed the sound to its source, a separate wing of the castle that was accessible through a door off of the foyer.
The moment he walked through the door to the servants’ wing, he sensed an atmosphere of happy activity. The space was so unlike anything he’d expected from the castle, the complete antithesis of uninhabited. The furnishings were far less grand than those in the main part of the house, but with the framed photographs of smiling people decorating the walls and the seating strewn with blankets and puffy pillows, this part of the estate felt downright homey. Aldon strode into the estate’s large, galley-style kitchen, and even this cavernous, industrial space—designed to provide feasts for dozens of guests, if needed, looked brighter and cheerier than he’d expected. The windows and doors to the grounds out back were flung
open to let in the fresh air and sunlight. A twenty-something woman, wearing gardening coveralls but no gloves stood at the kitchen sink, filling a watering can. Although the woman was filthy dirty—weeds dangling from the tendrils of fiery-red hair and soil both beneath her fingernails and studding her chin, Aldon couldn’t help but see past the grime.
God, she’s beautiful.
He swallowed and shook away the thought. The last thing he needed was to become attracted to another woman while he was still reeling from Carrie’s infidelity. He cleared his throat, in hopes that the woman at the sink would notice his presence and stop her incessant humming.
“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, and in her surprise, tossed the watering can up and out of her hands. The yellow plastic pitcher came down with a splash, landing at her rubber-booted feet.
Aldon rushed to help her wipe up the watery mess.
“I’m so sorry to have startled you,” he said and placed the half-full can on the kitchen counter. Luckily, it hadn’t spilled, just splashed. “I’m Aldon Ashton, the owner of this estate.”
The woman grabbed a terry dish towel from the counter and used it to pat her face dry. When she was finished, there were smears of mud across both of her cheeks. She looked like she was ready for a rugby match. Aldon had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing.
“No, no, don’t apologize!” the woman exclaimed, seeming to still be rattled by his arrival. “The steward called to say you’d be paying a visit, but I must have gotten the day wrong. I thought you’d be arriving tomorrow.” Her face suddenly paled, and she hurried to speak her next words. “Don’t worry, though. I have everything ready for you. The cupboards and fridge are stocked. Sheets are freshly washed. I just have to make up your bed.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I wasn’t worried.”
She met his eyes, and he couldn’t help but notice that hers were the most brilliant shade of green. Emerald, like the bright and beautiful shrubbery that had welcomed him as he’d pulled up to Thistledown Castle a few moments ago. She smiled and held out a crusty-nailed hand to shake.
“I’m Piper Mackenzie,” she said. When she noticed the uncertain look he gave her hand, she quickly turned to the sink to scrub away the dirt. “Sorry for my appearance. I’m a mess!”
She laughed, and Aldon was struck by her beauty once again.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “So, you’re the gardener here, I’m guessing?”
“Groundskeeper and caretaker,” Piper replied. “I take care of everything here at the castle, inside and out. Living on site makes it easy.”
Wait.
Back. Up.
“You live here?” he asked.
“Well, yes. I’ve been here for a few years now.”
He stared at her, still stuck on the fact that this lovely creature lived here and would be sharing the space with him. He bit his lip and tried to think of something to say as Piper tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and grinned innocently. How was he supposed to concentrate on economics and solitude, knowing this gorgeous creature was just a few steps away?
Why was she, a young and beautiful woman, working as a caretaker and living at an old castle, all alone? It seemed quite an isolating career choice for someone as youthful and lovely as Piper.
Aldon cleared his throat and summoned his best—I’ve dealt with it—face. He would have to figure out how to ignore her presence for the next few days and focus on the reason he was here—for respite, not for rebound.
“Will you be staying at Thistledown long?” Piper asked.
“A few days,” he said. For a moment, he wondered if Piper followed the gossip columns. Did she know anything of his “postponed” wedding?
“Well, let me help you get settled,” she said. “Do you have many bags?”
“Just a few. They’re in the foyer.” Once again, he caught himself stuck inside her green eyes. “I don’t really know my way around the place,” he said. “I haven’t been here in years.”
“No worries. I can show you around,” she said and winked. “Just let me get out of these dirty coveralls.”
Aldon couldn’t tear his eyes from her as she worked off her muddy boots and wiggled out of her gardening clothes, hanging them on a hook next to the kitchen sink. He felt like a voyeur but couldn’t help himself. Beneath the coveralls, Piper was dressed in cute pink socks, hip-hugging shin-length jeans and a tight, peacock-blue tank top that did nothing to decrease Aldon’s attraction level. She shook out her hair and faced him, looking willowy and feminine.
“Ready?” she asked.
Was he ready? His jaw was squeezed tightly in an effort to keep his mouth from hanging open at the sight of this delightfully disheveled groundskeeper.
“Uh…” he managed. “Thank you.”
He followed her back through into the main part of the castle and up a set of stairs to the master bedroom, unable to keep his eyes from wandering over her curves.
“Here we are,” she said and led him into a brightly lit room with a four-poster bed in its center and floor-to ceiling bookcases lining one wall. Aldon was curious as to which titles lined the shelves, as reading was one of his greatest passions. Still, his interest in Piper outranked his preoccupation with books at the moment.
“Does the room seem fitting?” Piper asked.
“Absolutely,” he answered quickly. “Charming, in fact.”
She nodded. “There’s an adjoining bath with all the toiletries you might need. Let me just get some fresh sheets on your bed.”
Piper threw open the closet doors and pulled out a set of creamy white linens.
“You don’t have to do that,” Aldon said. Surely it wasn’t this woman’s job to make his bed.
Although, he had to admit, he’d never really had to make his bed himself before. His staff had always done it for him.
“It’s no hassle,” she replied and shot him a warm smile. “I want you to be comfortable. You seem a bit stressed. Hopefully while you’re here, you can just relax and feel pampered.”
Suddenly, Aldon was overcome by Piper’s kindness. A warm glow lit him up from the inside as he considered her empathy. Not only was this woman drop-dead gorgeous, but she was good-hearted.
An image of the always-flawless Carrie slid into his mind’s eye. She never looked messy or disheveled, but then she never had any reason to. She’d grown up with staff catering to her every whim. It wouldn’t ever cross her mind to make her own bed, much less make one up for anyone else.
Piper, with her cute, mud-streaked cheeks and authentic smile, seemed to genuinely enjoy helping others. She was so unlike his ex-fiancée, and, at the moment, this made her extremely attractive, even with her dirty face.
“There you go,” she said and smoothed down the bedclothes with one hand. “I just need to get the comforter.”
“Uh, Piper,” he said.
“Yes?”
“You have something on your cheeks.”
Her hand flew to her face, and she started to laugh, a bright sound that lit Aldon up from the inside.
“Occupational hazard,” she said and used a handkerchief to dust off the remaining dry mud. “Better?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said, but thought to himself that Piper looked amazing no matter what. A little mud couldn’t hide the kind of beauty she possessed. For a split second, he wondered what it would be like to be with her—wrapped up in the fresh sheets she’d just stretched over the bed.
Stop.
He was here for solitude, not for a romp with a ravishing redhead.
“I’ll grab the comforter,” she said, her sweet voice dripping like honey over the bitterness of his current circumstances.
He forced a smile and swallowed, because he had the distinct feeling that this attraction he felt toward Piper was going to be an ongoing problem.
A very interesting problem.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire Prince’s Single Mother (Sovalon Royals Book Three) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
BLURB
Romance novelist Brandy Jackson is not a one-night-stand kind of girl, but with Maximillian Benton, she’s willing to make an exception. Big mistake. Turns out, the charming, handsome man with a sexy British accent is a jerk who’s only interested in laying claim to Landon Castle, the inheritance Brandy received when her beloved grandmother died. But apparently through a cheating attorney, the castle was purchased at auction by Max. When a judge orders them to both live at the castle until the legal matter is resolved, Brandy reluctantly agrees. As big as the castle is, it turns out to be too small for her and Max, who find themselves spending more and more time together. And even though Brandy knows Max isn’t her happily-ever-after, when the heat becomes too much she still gives in to her passion. Bigger mistake. Now she’s pregnant.
Max’s motives for wanting the castle are simple: revenge. A billionaire software designer, Max was swindled by the man who owned the castle, and now it’s sweet payback owning the thing his nemesis loved most. So when his plans are sent awry by a pretty American, he has no choice but to dig in his heels and make sure the castle remains his. Max tries, rather desperately, to ignore his attraction to Brandy and the way his heart expands whenever they’re together. Despite his cynicism about love, he can’t help wondering if Brandy might be different from all the other women he’s met. But when he believes he’s been duped by her sweet smile and sexy body, Max all too readily decides ending what they have is for the best. Happily ever after just isn’t for him. But he can’t shake the feeling he may have lost the best thing in his life…
Grab your copy of The Tycoon’s Pregnant lover (European Tycoon Book One) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
* * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American: Sovalon Royals Book Two Page 11
