ROYALLY LOVED
MCKENNA JAMES
Contents
Royally Schooled
1. Maggie
2. Edward
3. Maggie
4. Edward
5. Maggie
6. Edward
7. Maggie
8. Edward
9. Maggie
10. Edward
11. Maggie
12. Edward
13. Maggie
14. Edward
15. Maggie
16. Edward
17. Maggie
18. Edward
19. Maggie
20. Edward
21. Maggie
Epilogue
Royal Academy
1. Drew
2. Eliza
3. Drew
4. Eliza
5. Drew
6. Eliza
7. Drew
8. Eliza
9. Drew
10. Eliza
11. Drew
12. Eliza
13. Drew
14. Eliza
15. Drew
16. Eliza
17. Drew
18. Eliza
19. Drew
20. Eliza
21. Drew
22. Eliza
23. Drew
Eliza
24. Eliza
25. Drew
THE END
THE PRINCE’S BABY
1. Alison
2. Sebastian
3. Alison
4. Sebastian
5. Alison
6. Sebastian
7. Alison
8. Sebastian
9. Alison
10. Sebastian
11. Alison
12. Sebastian
13. Alison
14. Sebastian
15. Alison
16. Sebastian
17. Alison
18. Sebastian
19. Alison
20. Sebastian
21. Alison
22. Sebastian
23. Alison
24. Sebastian
25. Alison
26. Sebastian
27. Alison
28. Sebastian
29. Alison
30. Sebastian
31. Alison
32. Sebastian
33. Alison
34. Sebastian
35. Alison
Epilogue
HER ROYAL PHYSICIAN
1. Giselle
2. Leo
3. Giselle
4. Leo
5. Giselle
6. Leo
7. Giselle
8. Leo
9. Giselle
10. Leo
11. Leo
12. Giselle
13. Leo
14. Giselle
15. Leo
16. Giselle
17. LEO
18. Giselle
19. Leo
20. Giselle
21. Leo
22. Giselle
23. Leo
24. Giselle
25. Leo
26. Giselle
27. Leo
28. Giselle
29. Leo
Epilogue
ROYAL HOLIDAY
1. Rodrigo
2. Marina
3. Rodrigo
4. Marina
5. Rodrigo
6. Marina
7. Rodrigo
8. Marina
9. Rodrigo
10. Marina
11. Rodrigo
12. Marina
13. Rodrigo
14. Marina
15. Rodrigo
16. Marina
17. Rodrigo
18. Marina
19. Rodrigo
20. Marina
21. Rodrigo
Epilogue
THANK YOU
Also by Mckenna James
About Mckenna James
COPYRIGHT© 2020
ROYALLY LOVED by Mckenna James
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Royally Schooled
1
Maggie
The first sip of my coffee nearly scalded me. My tongue stung right before I felt it go numb. Great. I definitely wouldn’t be tasting anything today.
Normally I’d be a little more conscious about drinking my coffee at the right temperature, but today I was in a rush. I was already late to an interview for a job I absolutely needed, and I couldn’t afford to blow it. So, naturally, my alarm didn’t go off on time this morning, and I had just enough time to run a comb through my hair and get dressed before I had to leave.
I was prepared and determined to get this job. I might have looked a mess, and actually be one, but as soon as I walked into that interview, I was going to be cool, calm, and collected. Surely the interview process wouldn’t be that rigorous anyway.
An acquaintance had told me of a private job opening for tutoring two children and thought I might be a good candidate. I couldn’t imagine that any parent who would be interviewing me would be too harsh. It wasn’t like this was for a serious, stuffy corporate position.
I wanted to look prepared. The quicker I could impress them, the better. This gig paid really well. Every month I struggled to make ends meet and I really needed the money. This job would be minimal hours and high in pay, so I couldn’t imagine any situation more perfect for me.
I approached the elegant London hotel where the interview was going to be held. At first, I hadn’t questioned meeting at a hotel. There were many prestigious families in London, and I understood they wouldn’t want to invite strangers into their home until they had been vetted, and clearly whoever these parents were, they were obviously well-off.
I was, however, genuinely surprised by how fancy it seemed. The entrance to the lobby had these gorgeous white French doors with exquisite gold handles. Apparently, they were even richer than I first imagined. Surely renting out a conference room here wouldn’t be cheap, even if it was only for an hour.
With my coffee in one hand along with my resume and phone in the other, it was a struggle to open the door. The doors were heavier than I expected, and as I was pulling, my phone began to ring. I quickly released the door handle and took a step backward from the entrance so I could see who was calling me.
As I did, I stepped into something behind me. I nearly tripped over and started falling backward, and immediately realized it wasn’t a something but a someone as they graciously caught me midair.
Though at great cost to themselves because in my near tumble, my coffee slipped out of my hand and dropped behind me, and my resume fluttered to the pavement. As soon as I got my footing again, I turned around to find a stunningly handsome man standing there, his hands slowly falling from their grasp around my body. He was dressed in a phenomenal navy suit that was now covered in my spilled coffee.
To say I was mortified would be the understatement of the year.
“Oh no. Oh my gosh,” I mutte
red to myself. “I’m so, so sorry!” In my horror, the spilled coffee paced a trail in the direction of my scattered resume, so I rushed to scoop it up from the ground, shaking the dust before stuffing it in my purse. I looked up, surprised to find this charming man still standing before me.
He was surprisingly gracious about the mishap. He looked down at his white button-down shirt, now clearly ruined with the coffee and smiled at me as he ran a hand through his perfectly-styled brown hair.
“It’s no problem at all, accidents happen.”
His smile only made me feel worse. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a man this handsome in my life, not in person anyway. He looked like a damn model. Not that I’d be happy to spill coffee on anyone, but why did it have to be on a man who looked like that? Just his smile had me melting.
“Here, let me get the door for you,” he said as he pulled on the ornate gold door handle. He made it look a lot more effortless than I had in my clumsiness.
“Th-thank you,” I stuttered out. “I’m so sorry about the coffee. Is there anything I can do? Pay for your shirt maybe?”
I offered because it seemed like the only reasonable thing to do, but I was secretly hoping he’d say no. As I looked at his suit more closely, it was obvious to me that it was designer. I probably couldn’t even afford it. So I was relieved when he shook his head.
“Nothing a good dry cleaning won’t fix.”
I wasn’t sure about that. Coffee stains were particularly difficult to clean. But I appreciated him being so blasé about the whole thing.
“Well, again, I’m truly sorry,” I said as I stepped through the door to the lobby.
“It’s no problem at all. Have a wonderful day, Miss.”
I smiled. “You too.”
Despite living in London for several years now, I’d never quite gotten over how cute the accent was. His stunning looks were only enhanced by the sound of his voice.
As he walked away, I caught myself staring at him; though I quickly reminded myself I needed to focus. I had no time to get stuck on handsome, British men. I had to figure out which room my interview was being held in.
Even if I wasn’t rushing off to a job interview, I would’ve never pursued a man like that anyhow. He was out of my league, and there wasn’t really room in my life right now for dating. I had to focus on more important things like getting financially secure and prioritizing family. I hadn’t so much as opened a dating app since my father fell ill, and I had no intention to start anytime soon.
On the wall of the lobby was a map of the hotel including all the conference rooms located on the first level My interview was down the hall and to the right in room 106.
I made my way there and was surprised to find there was a long line of chairs sitting outside room 106, and there was a person in each and every one of them.
It wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I thought this would be a pretty low-key thing. I mean, it was for a tutoring job. I figured it would be me and a few other candidates at most. They really needed to interview this many people to determine who was a good fit to tutor elementary school-aged children?
These people were even richer than I thought.
I was definitely not feeling great about my chances anymore. I mean, surely one of these numerous men and women were far more qualified for the job than I was. What was supposed to make me stand out?
For a moment I almost considered walking out, but I was already here. I might as well give it a shot. I didn’t want to ruin my reputation by seeming flaky, and there was the off chance that I was the tutor they were looking for.
I sat next to a petite blonde woman with shoulder-length hair. She had her legs purposefully crossed. I smiled as I considered asking her if she knew why there were so many applicants.
She didn’t meet my smile and instead kept a serious expression and looked forward. Okay, so it didn’t look like I’d be making any friends today. I sat patiently as candidates were called back only to return quickly thereafter with their shoulders slumped and disappointment written all over their faces. This only intensified my anxiety, but I resolved to give the best interview I could, the need of resolving my financial issues was too great for me to just walk away without a fight.
A small, stout, middle-aged woman exited the room and looked down at a clipboard in front of her.
“Is there a Maggie here?” she asked.
Oh, crap! Me already? There was still a large line in front of me, and it didn’t seem as though I’d been waiting very long. The air of doom circulated the hallway, but I gave fear an internal pep talk before standing tall and proud, shoulders back, straightened my skirt and greeted the woman with a friendly smile. Like the woman I had sat next to outside, she didn’t meet that smile and instead retained a serious demeanor. I tried not to allow that to make me nervous, but it definitely did. I followed at a cautious distance to prevent any further mishaps such as that of my arrival.
She took a seat behind the long walnut table and motioned toward the chair across from her. I sat with my back ram-rod straight, ankles crossed and looked up at the woman and man who stared back at me. I let out an involuntary gasp before sucking the sudden anxiety in. well huh. A smirk splayed wide across his face as his brow rose into his hairline, a hint of curiosity in his gaze.
It was the man I’d spilled my coffee on! Crap, crap, crap! What was he doing here?
Well, if I wasn’t already positive I wasn’t getting the job, I was convinced now.
The woman looked at me with a furrowed brow. “Is there something wrong?” she asked in response to my gasp, her tone pointed.
“N-no.” I looked at the man blankly, wondering if he would rat me out.
I realized immediately, of course, that they probably weren’t husband and wife. He seemed too young for the woman. He was certainly closer to my age than hers.
He didn’t rat me out but instead extended his hand. “You must be Maggie.”
“Yes, hello.” I shook his hand in response and then reached out to shake the woman’s.
“Hello, Maggie. I am Ms. Mitchell. It’s very good to meet you.”
The name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place the woman outside of a vague feeling of familiarity.
Who were they? Perhaps assistants of the family who wanted to hire a tutor. How important could these people be that they wouldn’t attend the interview themselves, though? Not that I’d ever say that because I wanted this job, but I was most definitely judging them already.
“Do you have your resume, dear?” Ms. Mitchell asked.
“Oh, yes, of course!” I said as I pulled it out of my purse.
Embarrassingly, it had become a bit crinkled in there, a slight smattering of dust staining the back of the page. I tried to flatten it on the table as I did my best to keep myself from blushing.
This was an epic failure. My ears were getting hot from the stress, my blood pressure skyrocketing. I was really flubbing this whole thing.
“Ah, so you studied early childhood development in college?” she asked.
“I did, yes. I love children.” I smiled warmly, though I was inadvertently avoiding eye contact with the man.
I shouldn’t have been. I mean, it was just as much an interview with him as it was with her. I couldn’t contain my embarrassment.
“When will you be receiving your degree?” the man, who had still yet to identify himself, asked me.
Dammit, I was hoping they wouldn’t ask that.
“Well, uh, actually … I won’t be. I had to drop out of school due to some unfortunate personal circumstances.”
“You are American, are you?” Ms. Mitchell asked.
“Yes, born and raised. However, I’ve been in London for a couple of years,” I told her.
“Do you know much about the royal family?” she asked.
“A bit,” I tried to lie.
The lie was pretty blatant. I’d never been one to pay attention to celebrities. To me, European royalty were essentially ju
st celebrities. I wasn’t sure why I should retain an interest in the lives of total strangers.
“So you are familiar with the royal children? Abigail and Andrew?”
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