The Royal Couple: A Christian Romance (Royals Book 1)

by Nicole Taylor

  He had awoken at three o’clock on Sunday morning in cold sweats. He looked around his bedroom disoriented, trying to shake off the tendrils of the dream that still clung to the rim of his consciousness.

  He sat at the edge of the bed, then struggled to his feet and headed to the kitchen where he got a glass of water. He stood at the sink and drank several gulps trying to calm himself. His breath moved from shallow to even, gradually, and when he felt ready he took slow steps to the living room sofa and sat down.

  There he remembered the dream. Not in its entirety. There were still some elements that were hazy. But it had gone like this: He was travelling on a long road and suddenly before him appeared two divergent paths. One leading to sadness and loneliness and eventually death. The other leading to joy, family and life. The thing was that the road to death was very attractive it was wide and smoothly paved. He looked at the other road it looked difficult. It was narrow, uneven, and rocky. It wasn’t very attractive at all. He felt instinctively that there would be things asked of him that were outside his comfort zone. He hesitated.

  He was about to take the smoother, wider road when he heard a voice. It was Jesus he was at the end of the rocky path he was beckoning to him. “William, come join me.” Yes. Of course. Jesus. The one who had loved him enough to give up his life for him. So what if the road was difficult, he wanted to be where Jesus was.

  He began to take a few steps towards him when suddenly a black monstrous figure arose before him and blocked the path. “You cannot pass. You are not worthy. You are coming with me,” it said in a terrible voice.

  He started to back away but the monster had taken hold of him and was dragging him downwards. He began to scream, petrified. “I don’t belong with you,” he protested. “I’m a good person.”

  The monster gave a mirthless laugh that made his blood run cold. “Good? Hah. Good? There’s nothing good in you at all.”

  In the distance he could hear Jesus saying, “I can save you William. I’m the only one who can save you, but you need to ask.” That was when he had awoken in cold sweats.

  He had drawn his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to stem the nausea he felt. The dream had been so vivid. So real. So terrifying.

  “Dear Lord,” he prayed. “You’ve got my attention. Show me what you want from me. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  He continued to talk to God, asking him to calm his soul. He thought about his life. Of all the mistakes he had made. All of the instances of willful disobedience to God. All of the times he had rejected the truth in favor of a lie that made him feel good. All of the times he had gone against the values he had been taught. He felt so dirty. So unworthy. The monster had been right. He was not good. He was selfish. He was greedy. He was sinful. Was he worthy of forgiveness? Was it as simple as saying sorry? He was in so much turmoil.

  By 5:00 a.m. he had not gone back to sleep. He was almost afraid to sleep. What if the monster got him this time? What if it succeeded in dragging him down to Hell? Eventually, though, exhaustion caught up with him and he curled up on the couch and fell off to sleep.

  He awoke with a start. His eyes immediately flew to the clock on the wall. It was 9:35 a.m. He felt as if God had touched him and awakened him. He barely had time to get a quick shower, dress and gulp down a cup of tea before speeding off to church. He had arrived twenty minutes late but he had made it.

  When Rev. Davis began to speak, it suddenly all made sense. God was reaching out to him. He was giving him a chance. Even though William had rejected him repeatedly He was still reaching out to him. He knew how he felt about Barbara, but would he still continue to love her if she rejected him over and over again. He didn't think so. God did. God loved each and every human being like that. William felt a burning in his soul, a searing heat. Tears caught in his throat. He blinked several times.

  As the minister continued to speak, all the pieces were connected for him. The divergent paths represented his choices. He could choose God and experience real joy through the gifts of the Holy Spirit or he could choose the world and continue to live life with the feeling that there was something missing. He couldn’t continue to be a hearer of the word only. He needed to be a doer of the word or else he would be doomed to Hell. He had to surrender. He couldn’t straddle the fence any longer. He had to go over. Go all the way in. He had to accept the free gift that his Savior had died to make available to him.

  As the choir sang And Can It Be, he stumbled towards the altar, broken and ready to be made whole. He was finally ready to surrender all. Yes, he needed a savior. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever be good enough. The realization brought him to his knees, both figuratively and literally. He didn’t care who saw him, who watched him cry. He felt no shame as the tears streamed down his face. He was willing to be broken, to be made a spectacle for the one who emptied himself of everything but love for him.

  He felt Barbara next to him. Felt her slide her hand into his and he felt joy. He was saved and the woman who had helped to bring him to that point was there beside him to witness it.

  ~*~*~*~

  On Monday night, William showed up at The District. He alighted from the limo to the flash of lights from photographer cameras and took in the scene. It appeared to be crawling with paparazzi. He had never been to this particular club and hadn’t considered that it would be this crowded on a week night.

  There were throngs of people outside the club apparently waiting to be allowed in. Several of them looked in his direction when he got out of the vehicle and a few took photos of him with their phone.

  William began to make his way to the private entrance. He had no intention of going through the rabble.

  Before he could get there, however, he heard someone call his name. Call? It was more like scream. It was a female voice with a British accent so he looked around, curious. When he saw who it was he groaned inwardly.

  British singer/songwriter Willow Brown. He had briefly dated her. Very briefly. They’d been out on about three dates before he’d realized that she was not the type of woman he wanted in his life.

  He tried to remember what had attracted him to her in the first place. Oh yes, he’d watched her perform at a Lamport Holdings-sponsored event and he’d been impressed with her talent. She had an incredible voice. She was also very pretty with long, straight, dark brown hair and slightly slanted dark brown eyes that suggested oriental ancestry.

  She’d invited him to join her and some friends at a club later that night and he’d agreed. Then he’d seen her on three more occasions. That was all it took for him to realize that Willow was a loose cannon. She was unpredictable, one minute deliriously happy and bubbly, the next loud, aggressive, abusive. He wasn’t a psychologist but in his opinion she was probably bipolar. Whatever her problem, it had likely contributed to her career suffering serious setbacks. She had produced two hit albums and then nothing for the last few years.

  Now he cringed when she made a beeline for him with some other woman in tow. He was trying to figure out what to say to her. They hadn’t exactly ended on amicable terms. After she’d created a scene in a restaurant by treating the waiter deplorably, he had told her after dropping her off that they would not be seeing each other again. She had actually slapped him in his face and called him some names that sounded Klingon. He didn’t relish the thought of interacting with her again.

  He decided to ignore her but it was too late.

  She hurried towards him, squealed, launched herself at him and planted a kiss full on his lips – Just in time for a tabloid photographer to capture the moment.

  Anger flared in William. He was about to prize her off of him when she stepped back. “William. Wow it’s been so long, ya blighter. What’s it been four years? You still look good. Smoking hot in fact,” she said, her eyes running appreciatively up and down his form. She turned to her friend. “Debbie. This is the William Lamport, my ex-boyfriend.”

  William’s eyebrows shot up. Ex-boyfriend!?
After three dates? This woman really was crazy.

  Willow took advantage of his silence. She grasped his arm and glued herself to his side.

  William glanced at the pretty black woman with Willow and wondered briefly if she was crazy too. Why else would she be friends with Willow Brown. He was just about to extricate himself from Willow when she said, “You going in now? Why don’t we go in together?”

  William thought about his situation briefly. The way she was clinging to him, he would probably have to shove her away to get her off him. Wouldn’t the press love that? It would probably be best to get her into the club, like she wanted, and then dismiss her there.

  The huge guy at the private entrance looked William over. He had seen him emerge from the limousine and could see money written all over him. He looked like someone famous though he couldn’t put his finger on who. Without a word he lifted the velvet rope and let in him and his female companions.

  As soon as they got into the club, Willow stood on her toes, grabbed the lapels of William’s jacket and tried to kiss him on the lips again. This time he responded quickly. He grabbed her arms and pushed her firmly away from him.

  “Don’t you ever do that again!” he said between clenched teeth, his eyes blazing with anger.

  Her expression was one of surprise, swiftly followed by embarrassment. She gave her friend a side glance and then hissed at him, “There was a time you liked my kisses.”

  “Yes, for about five minutes,” he retorted.

  He could barely hear over the pulsating beat of music. He didn’t want to waste any more time battling with Willow. “Ladies, please excuse me.”

  Willow laughed scornfully as he turned to go.

  “That’s fine. We just needed a ticket in here. This place is really tough to get into, especially on a Monday night, unless you’re riding with someone like you. Thanks. Guess we’ll see you later then,” she yelled and actually had the audacity to blow him a kiss and bat her lashes. He now noticed, even in the dim light, that she was practically falling out of the top of her dress. He felt like taking off his jacket and covering her up.

  A famous British actor greeted him on his way in. William raised his hand in response and then noticed that the woman with him looked like she was wearing a tank top as a dress. William shook his head. Either he was getting old or he was spending too much time with Barbara, but he found that the sight of all these scantily clad females just made him feel very sad for them. Why did they devalue themselves like that? Barbara was so captivating and appealing without exposing herself like a piece of merchandise.

  He messaged Sean to find out where he was. Sean came to meet him. He seemed louder than usual and slightly inebriated.

  “How long have you been here?” William had to raise his voice to compete with the ding of the music.

  “An hour and a half. Oh, guess who I ran into?”

  “Who?”

  “Barry and Gordon,” Sean said as they made their way to the private VIP booth. “I was sitting there waiting on you when I saw them come in.”

  Barry Wright and Gordon Edwards had been the co-owners of the yacht company Millan Yachts, a company that built, restored, sold and rented yachts. They were the best in the business as far as William was concerned. That was the reason why, when they were having financial difficulty two years back and were looking to sell, he had bought them out but retained them as executive managers. Lamport Holdings now owned Millan Yachts and under William’s leadership had not only survived but thrived.

  He now greeted the two gentlemen warmly.

  “What are you guys doing here? Business or pleasure.” He shook hands with the two men and then greeted the two women with them when introductions were made.

  Gordon laughed. “Right now, definitely pleasure.”

  Barry chuckled. “We’re really here on business, though. Remember you’d asked us to explore the possibility of opening a branch here in the US? We began those talks yesterday.”

  The four men chatted lightly. The women occasionally interjected but were more content to listen. Under normal circumstances, William would have enjoyed the dialogue. For some reason though he couldn’t seem to enjoy himself.

  He noticed everything that seemed out of place and he couldn’t help commenting on it. The other men were drinking too much. Did he also drink that much? And Sean and Gordon, the expletives they dropped so casually. Did he really find that acceptable before? And this place: the lyrics to the music; the way the women were dressed. He felt very ill at ease. He barely touched the drink he had ordered. He felt sick to his stomach. He thought about leaving but reasoned that the club would soon close anyway.

  He was about to speak to Sean about his drinking again when Sean excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned he had two women in tow: Willow Brown and her friend.

  William was aghast. He looked at the ginger haired Irishman in shock.

  “Look who I found,” Sean said laughing. “Willow and Debra...no Debbie.”

  William barely glanced at the women, but he noticed that Sean seemed really noshed. William stood. “Sean, may I speak with you?” he asked.

  Sean looked at him. “Wills, come on…”

  “Now!” William said through clenched teeth.

  To show he meant business he didn’t even wait for Sean to respond. He just got up and walked away from the group.

  When he turned Sean was behind him.

  “What’s up, Wills? You seem annoyed,” Sean said.

  William exploded. “What do you think you’re doing? Are you crazy bringing those women over here?”

  Sean looked puzzled. “William, that’s Willow. You used to date her as I recall. I ran into her after I came out of the loo and she introduced me to her friend, that’s all. Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought that since Gordon and Barry have got dates we should hook up with some women too.”

  “I didn’t come here looking for a woman, Sean. You need to grow up.”

  “What’s up with you?” Sean asked, his face now almost the color of his hair.

  “What’s up with you?” William asked, so angry he could feel his temple throbbing.

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve invited women to join us when we were out.”

  “Don’t make it sound like it’s a regular occurrence. That happened on two occasions in the six years I’ve known you. And for me it was goodbye when I left the club.”

  “Lighten up, William. It’s just about getting to know people, that’s all.”

  “I have no interest in ‘getting to know people’ the way you do. I thought you invited me to have a drink with you, not pick up women. And Willow Brown of all people. Listen, I don’t know what impression I may have given you in the past but I’m not interested in casual sex. I have never been interested in ‘hooking up’ with women I barely know.”

  “Who said anything about casual sex?!” Sean’s face looked like he was ready to explode.

  “Do you take me for an idiot? I have a pretty good idea what ends up happening when you pick up a woman in a club.”

  Sean glared at him. “You know what I think? I think that ever since you got entangled with Miss Goody Two Dickson that you think you’re better than the rest of us. All of a sudden you’re all judgey. Do you know that for the last two hours all you’ve done is whine like a baby about how much I’m drinking or about what someone’s snorting or smoking or wearing? It’s like being out with my grandmother. I thought you were my friend not my priest.”

  William shook his head. “I thought I was your friend too. I see now that I’m going to have to rethink that. You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t be whining about this depravity I should remove myself from it.”

  William reached into his wallet and took out a few bills. “That should more than cover my share of the drinks.”

  He stuffed the bills into Sean’s jacket pocket and patted it. “Goodnight to you.” With nary a backward glance he left the club.


  It wasn’t over yet.

  As William stepped outside into the cool morning he heard Willow Brown call out from behind him, “William, you forgot your jacket.”

  He remembered that he had left it on his seat. As the chill of the morning hit his lightweight shirt he was grateful for it, even if Willow was the bearer.

  He turned abruptly and she ran right into him. He took a step back and reached out for the jacket. She held it tightly to her overflowing chest and gave him what she no doubt thought was a seductive look. “Come and get it.”

  He expelled a short breath. “Listen, woman, I don’t have time for this. Give me my jacket.”

  In his peripheral vision he could see the few remaining paparazzi who were lounging around straighten up and move closer to them. Willow pouted and struck a pose, hand on one hip, his jacket was still clutched to her bosom. “You’re pretty ungrateful. After the way you treated me earlier I shouldn’t even have brought your jacket for ya.”

  William closed his eyes briefly and prayed for strength.

  “Keep it. It’s yours,” he said tightly. The decision was easily made. From the looks of her exposed chest she clearly needed it more than he did.

  He headed for his limo where the driver stood with the door open. Before he could reach the door, Willow Brown, who had swiftly followed him, grabbed his arm. He felt his blood boil. He wheeled around to face her. “Take your hand off of me,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “Make me,” she taunted. “Or…you can take me home with you.”

  “Are you on drugs?” he asked incredulously. Talk about being haunted by the past.

  The scene which followed was like the stuff of a badly scripted reality show.

  He pulled his arm from her grasp. She lunged for him. He stepped to one side. Her shoe heel caught in a crack on the ground. She stumbled onto the car door. The chauffer helped her up. She slapped away the chauffeur’s hand. The chauffeur grabbed her and motioned with the other hand to the bouncer at the door. The bouncer came over and easily held her back. William walked over to her and plucked his jacket from her arms. She kicked out at him and caught his shin. He took a deep breath. She washed him in profanities and spat in his face. He walked away and got into the limo. The paparazzi snapped photo after photo and had a ball.