Champagne Princess: Reckless Royals, #1

By Monica Tillery

Princess Jordanna earned her reputation as Evanosia's notorious "Champagne Princess" by spending more time in night clubs than at the palace. She'd love to have a position befitting her title, where she could do some good for her country, but her family has pushed her to the sidelines all her life.

 

When her parents arrange a strategic marriage between her and the crown prince of Saldinia, she hates the idea of marrying a stranger but wants nothing more than to finally have the chance to show everyone that she loves her country. Prince Liam of Saldinia isn't thrilled with the prospect of marrying the wild "Champagne Princess," and getting her to agree is no easy feat. It's not easy for the serious, determined crown prince to get along with the resentful party girl princess, but duty calls.

 

Making an arranged engagement look like a love match isn't easy, but as they navigate royal life together, it becomes harder to tell what's real and what's fake. When tensions threaten to tear them apart, will Liam's love be enough for the "Champagne Princess," or will things fall flat?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Mar 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781771553254

Monica Tillery

An Adams Media author.

Book preview

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Champagne Princess

Reckless Royals, 1

MONICA TILLERY

CHAMPAGNE BOOK GROUP

Champagne Princess

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Published by Champagne Book Group

2373 NE Evergreen Avenue, Albany OR 97321 U.S.A.

~~~

First Edition 2021

eISBN: 978-1-927454-73-2

Copyright © 2021 Monica Tillery All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Erica Christensen

Champagne Book Group supports copyright which encourages creativity and diverse voices, creates a rich culture, and promotes free speech. Thank you by complying by not scanning, uploading, and distributing this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher. Your purchase of an authorized electronic edition supports the author’s rights and hard work and allows Champagne Book Group to continue to bring readers fiction at its finest.

www.champagnebooks.com

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For my darling friend, Nitza Campos,

who cheers me on and dresses

my princesses.

Chapter One

Jordanna di Marconella sipped champagne and leaned closer to her friend on the plush velvet bench spanning the length of their cozy booth. Similar groups littered the VIP section of the Marquee Room, each far away enough from the masses for their members to enjoy a bit of privacy within the crowded space.

Heavy bass thumped throughout the club, with lights flashing and shifting in time with the beat. Friends lined the booth, laughing and drinking more than their fair share of the expensive champagne, but she couldn’t understand a word of the conversations going on around her.

Are you going to host Christina’s baby shower? Ava Klein, a cosmetics company heiress and Jordanna’s closest friend, practically shouted in her ear. Jordanna’s sister-in-law was due with her first baby soon.

No, I offered, but she said she had friends taking care of it. I thought it would be something fun that we could bond over, but oh well. Christina doesn’t want anything or anyone to upstage her on the big day. Jordanna leaned closer. I guess she thinks that marrying the crown prince and bringing the other future king into the world isn’t enough to keep the focus on her. She rolled her eyes.

We’ll have more fun if we just attend as guests anyway. She can be so fussy. Ava refilled her champagne flute and wobbled a little as she settled back into the booth.

I think what she’s truly worried about is that I’ll somehow make it all about me or make people feel sorry for me since I’m single, childless, and obviously never going to become queen. Jordanna took full advantage of the hospitality clubs and restaurants offered her as a member of the royal family.

The country adored her parents, the reigning king and queen, and her brother, the crown prince. Nobody expected her to be much more than a fixture at the capital city’s hottest spots, and she was happy to oblige.

She couldn’t care less that she was single and not heavily pregnant. The last thing I want is her life, but she’d never believe it. Her worst nightmare is that I’ll take the focus away from her.

Well, I wonder where she got that crazy idea. Ava quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow. Jordanna did have the tiniest tendency to let her hair down whenever the opportunity presented itself.

For your information, I’ve already promised to remain stone-cold sober the entire time and mind my manners like a good little princess. I’m excited about welcoming my little nephew to the world and wouldn’t do anything to ruin the celebration. She loved a good party but knew when and where to deploy her impeccable royal manners.

I know you wouldn’t. I’m only teasing you. Let’s dance. Ava tugged lightly on Jordanna’s arm as she slid out of the booth.

Jordanna left her empty champagne glass on the table and followed her friend, slipped beneath the velvet rope that cordoned off their VIP booth, and stepped onto the dance floor. Multicolored lights illuminated the revelers in time with the pulsing music, revealing brief glimpses of the smiling faces of the people around them.

Jordanna dropped her inhibitions and danced, letting the people around her fade away. Pleasantly buzzed from the champagne and warm from the packed room, she let loose and laughed with her friend, forgetting about her everyday life for the moment.

A couple of guys from their section wove through the crowd of dancers and joined the girls. Jordanna danced with one of them, slipping into his arms as he got closer. The warmth, champagne, and music almost hypnotized her as they danced to the beat.

A flash of light snapped her out of her trance as a club-goer took her picture with their phone. She was certain she looked a fright, and having her picture taken with men never went unnoticed by her disappointed parents. She’d worry about them later.

She was sweaty, probably had smudged mascara around her eyes, and most likely had a stupid expression on her face. It was nothing she hadn’t faced before and there was nothing to be done about it, so she returned her attention to her companion and started dancing again. Her reputation as the Champagne Princess was well-earned, and she’d long since given up on trying to fight it. A few more people noticed who she was and took pictures with their phones. She’d be on the gossip sites before her head hit the pillow that night.

A guy who wasn’t in her party’s pre-screened group managed to dance through the crowd until he was close to Jordanna. Her security detail usually didn’t allow anyone who didn’t submit to a full background check anywhere within ten feet of her, but they didn’t stop him. Feeling a little wild and reckless, she flashed him a smile and mouthed a greeting.

He shouted over the music. Your Majesty, may I have the next dance?

He was clearly intoxicated, goofy, and absolutely not her type. There was little chance she’d be allowed to dance with the stranger before her security team stepped in, but she laughed and engaged with him. It’s Your Highness, actually, but you can call me Jordanna.

What did you say? He danced closer.

Your Majesty is for the queen, not me, she shouted. The guy she’d been dancing with tightened his grip on her waist. And I’m afraid my dance card is full.

Oh, well pardon me, Your Highness! His tone had a hard edge to it, and his eyes glinted in the club’s dim light.

Jordanna guessed he didn’t like being corrected, even by a princess.

Without warning or explanation, Jordanna’s principal bodyguard, Nico, pulled her away from the man and rushed her to an exit. His hulking body shielded her from her surroundings as the rest of the security detail flanked them. Her feet barely touched the floor as he pulled her through the crowd, and she struggled to look over his shoulder to see what the danger was. Nobody else in the club appeared to be alarmed in the least.

The cool night air sobered her up, and she realized that there was no unusual noise or activity outside the car before Nico essentially shoved her into the backseat.

Why did you rush me out of there like the place was on fire? Nobody did anything to me! That guy wasn’t even close enough to touch me, and everyone else was only taking pictures, Jordanna protested as she righted herself on the leather seat and yanked the hem of her dress down to cover her bare legs.

I don’t think that chap was savory, ma’am, but that’s not the problem. Your father ordered you returned to the palace at once. They were safely nestled in the car’s dark, bulletproof interior, but Nico’s eyes never stopped scanning the surroundings.

The car sped through the streets, and Jordanna concentrated on steadying her breathing and telling herself there was no true emergency. She was regularly summoned home as though bombs were dropping all over the capital city only to find that her parents had seen an unflattering picture of her in the tabloids, or they simply wanted her to join them for dinner.

Nico didn’t usually scoop her up and carry her to the car, but perhaps her father was particularly insistent that she return immediately. It didn’t mean anything.

Did he tell you to carry me out of the club like a sack of potatoes? She fiddled with the clasp on her beaded clutch, pulled out a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, and rubbed it into her palms.

His instructions were to return you home immediately. That’s all I know, ma’am. Nico kept his head on a swivel, constantly scanning the streets as they zipped through the city. He’d been on the family’s staff for at least a decade, but he was inscrutable when he wanted to be. He was insistent that it be right away.

They arrived home, and she was ushered inside, completely surrounded by her detail. They reached a safe room deep within the palace where her parents waited with her brother Jacob and his wife Christina, their expressions stony. Usually when she had to answer for misbehavior or to explain why there was a picture of her drinking champagne and dancing with friends, her mother had a tablet out, ready to flip through pictures and headlines and question her on each one.

Tonight her parents sat side by side, their backs ramrod straight and mouths set into straight lines, the air thick with tension.

Thank you, Nico. Her father broke the silence.

Nico bowed his head briefly before leaving the family alone in the secure room.

There was another threat against you. Her father motioned for her to sit beside Jacob, who had already been briefed, judging by the stunned look on his face and disheveled appearance.

Christina reached across Jacob and patted Jordanna’s hand. We’re glad you’re home safe and sound. Her sister-in-law never had more than two words to say to Jordanna in private, but she was always the picture-perfect wife and daughter-in-law with the family. It was a bit sickening.

Rebels had joined forces with those from a neighboring country to attack Evanosia, resulting in small pockets of unrest throughout the tiny European nation. The military had successfully squashed any real progress, but the threats had recently grown more serious and closer to home. When their advances failed, the rebels changed their tactics to target Jordanna specifically.

None of the threats had been deemed credible enough to do much more than increase her security, but apparently there was a new development. Obviously tonight’s event had shaken her parents.

We all have to come together now if this family is to remain in power, if this country is to remain in one piece. Her mother began the speech as she had many times before.

She was usually emphasizing how inappropriate Jordanna’s behavior was or imploring her to at least pretend she was a princess and avoid the paparazzi if she insisted on going out to clubs all the time.

It was nothing she hadn’t heard a million times, but her parents’ drawn, pale faces gave her pause. Tonight’s meeting had a different air to it. There was no mention of her night at the club, no admonishment that her friend Ava was a bad influence on her, no sneering recap of Jordanna’s tabloid appearances. Something was different this time. Something was wrong.

Her parents turned to one another before speaking, her father’s jaw flexing before he gave her mother a small nod. Her mother took a deep breath. Jordanna, I know you won’t want to hear this, but until we get everything under control, we’re confining you to the palace grounds. The intelligence we received indicated that rebels knew exactly where you were tonight and that they had extensive knowledge of the club and how to circumvent your security team.

That’s absurd! Jordanna had the best security money could buy any time she stepped foot out the door and had never been in even a hint of real danger. Still, the aggressive man at the club could have been a threat. Had she become so complacent that she couldn’t recognize a threat? I don’t want to be a prisoner in my own home.

You won’t be a prisoner here. We’re trying to save you from possibly becoming a hostage or worse. Her mother arched an eyebrow. You don’t exactly keep a low profile.

So that’s what this is about. The family made a fuss every time Jordanna was photographed doing anything other than representing the family in an official capacity. If I have to remain at the palace without being permitted to leave, I may go crazy.

It’s for your own safety, and with any luck it won’t be for long. Her father’s tone let her know the decision was final. We are working around the clock to find solutions.

At least we have tomorrow’s party to look forward to, Christina said, patting her pregnant belly. Maybe we can’t go out, but at least we’ll have visitors.

Yes, at least there’s that. Jordanna would rather clean every inch of the floors from one end of the palace to the other with a toothbrush than attend the party the family was hosting the following evening.

Another night spent entertaining a ballroom full of bores to help strengthen her family’s political ties was another night spent pretending she didn’t know the whole country saw her as a waste of a title. It was true she’d likely never ascend to the throne. Her brother was next in line, and his first child was about to be born. She’d never been given any responsibilities beyond looking pretty and entertaining important visitors.

Any time she tried to get involved with anything of substance, she was quickly and definitively shut down. And everyone wondered why she spent most of her time going out with friends.

~ * ~

Crown Prince Liam Fitzgerald of Saldinia hid a yawn behind his hand and tried to figure out what the elderly count seated across from him at the dinner table was rambling on about. With any luck it would help take his mind off the beautiful princess at his side who was studiously ignoring him.

They’d known each other as children and had been reintroduced when he arrived, but she acted as though they’d never met. She didn’t look like any princess he’d ever known, and she didn’t behave like one either. Most royals he knew were plain and unremarkable, but Jordanna’s delicate features reminded him of a movie star with her glossy blond hair and bewitching hazel eyes. Even the smallest of movements, from the cursory nods she gave in response to a conversation to taking sips of water, were glamour personified.

In her figure-skimming black dress, she looked like she should be walking the red carpet rather than sitting at a dinner table with royals and dignitaries from all over the region.

He took a bite of his perfectly cooked filet mignon and nodded what he hoped was the appropriate moment as he chewed. The meal was delicious, the wine superb, and the dining hall exquisite. Only his dinner companions left anything to be desired.

The stuffy minor royals and leaders of small countries sitting around the table, bemoaning the state of the world in between bites of sautéed mushrooms and steamed asparagus represented everything he hoped to avoid in the future.

His father embodied everything Liam thought a king should be—he was dynamic, ambitious, and brilliant. He had a gift for ruling in a firm but kind manner, somehow swaying public opinion to his way of thinking no matter how unpopular his decisions would’ve been in someone else’s hands.

Liam spent his life studying his father, determined to become at least half the leader he’d been when it was time to ascend to the throne. His older brother Niall couldn’t be bothered to plan for a future as the king and had gone to New York after university to escape the weight of the family’s expectations. Niall hadn’t seemed to care when he was forced to relinquish his position, and he never looked back.

Liam had heard the stories about how Princess Jordanna had changed over the years. Now people called her the Champagne Princess, but knowing she’d likely be unconventional hadn’t prepared him for the young woman seated next to him.

She made no effort to speak to the guests at the table, presenting herself more like a fashion-obsessed socialite than the daughter of a king, and though they were already acquainted, she hadn’t spared him so much as a sideways glance since dinner began. All her attention was on an aging countess who looked like she may fall asleep at any moment.

King Roberto rose from his chair and stood