The Billionaire Prince’s Surprise Son by Leslie North
BLURB
To Clementine Wicke, there is no greater tragedy than tearing down a historic building. So when Prince Edward Ashton asks for her assistance restoring an old country castle, she’s beyond eager to help—even though Edward’s love of modern architecture and disdain for everything old is more than a little annoying. The upside is that this is the job of a lifetime, one that will really boost her family’s architectural salvage business. The downside? Working beside an infuriatingly attractive billionaire prince. Nothing can divert Clementine away from her goal to restore the castle. Not Prince Edward’s total hotness. Or his searing kisses. Or the fact she’s starting to fall for him. Big time.
Though Clementine is gorgeous, she’s also the most stubborn, opinionated, frustrating woman Edward has ever had to deal with. Yet when she’s not at the castle working by his side, the place feels decidedly…empty. When their mutual attraction ultimately becomes impossible to ignore, the two succumb to their growing passion—and a new understanding of each other’s perspective. Edward finds himself doing something he’d never expected: learning to appreciate the past and the woman who inspires him.
But when an unforeseen problem with the remodeling puts their new relationship to the test, both Clementine and Edward will have to discover just how much they mean to each other, or risk giving up the love they have forever…
Grab your copy of The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant (Sovalon Royals Book One) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
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EXCERPT
Chapter 1
The sun dipped low on the horizon. Before evening swallowed the prosperous Kingdom of Sovalon, Prince Edward Ashton had one more item to cross off of his list. He walked up the sidewalk to the decrepit nineteenth-century schoolhouse. He noticed the handle of the barn wood door, wrought iron and speckled with rust. The schoolhouse was not so much quaint as it was falling apart at the seams. The historical society of Sovalon had done a great job of conserving sites around the kingdom, but not this one. It was time to do away with antiquity and move into the future, to bid farewell to the old, crumbling establishments that clung to the past. Sovalon needed new, modern architecture and environmentally-friendly engineering that would rocket it into the twenty-first century. Edward imagined sleek, minimalist housing and green businesses lining the streets, making Sovalon an ideal place to live and a center for new, progressive enterprises.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” the foreman said as he emerged from the darkness of the tiny structure. The air following after him smelled of mildew and rot.
“Please, John, call me Edward.” He was in no way ashamed of his title, but Edward preferred to be addressed by name.
The foreman nodded and gestured for Edward to follow him. “This shouldn’t take long since there’s no need to view the interior—we can see everything you need to see from the outside. Not much left in there anyway, other than a few fixtures and a lot of dust. The house only has a few rooms that were used as classrooms, a small kitchen area and one very rustic bath.”
“Understood,” Edward said. “Let’s get started.”
“The crew did a check for animal life and found none,” the foreman explained. “They’ll do another quick check tomorrow before demo, but we’re not expecting to find any. The building is so ragged, it doesn’t offer much shelter—and the floors are too unstable to safely bear much weight.”
Edward nodded. “Good.”
“We’ve placed explosives that will knock out the schoolhouse’s primary vertical supports so that the building collapses into itself.” The foreman walked Edward around the site, pointing out the placement of devices and explaining what the sequence of explosions would mean for safety.
“It’s ready and secure for tomorrow morning at nine thirty.”
Edward offered his hand for the foreman to shake, satisfied with their meeting. “Thank you. You know how important this job is to me, John. My father is very focused on progress and breathing new life into the kingdom, and he’s put me in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly.”
His father had essentially mandated him with helping to bring the kingdom’s housing projects and urban planning into the future, and Edward had a lot to do to prove himself. He hoped to create new housing that would attract more people to the region.
Edward looked hard at the foreman, hoping the man understood the weight of this project. “See you in the morning then,” he said.
“We’ll be here,” the foreman said and walked away.
When the foreman was gone, Edward smiled to himself.
The demolition of this building and turning the property into usable real estate would be the first of many achievements and a way to prove that he was up to the task his father had set forward. Edward’s appointment as head of Urban Planning and Housing Development was a show of his father’s faith in him. As the oldest of the three Ashton brothers, the future of the Sovalon was truly in his hands. He wanted to breathe new life into this great kingdom. He knew his father would be looking over his shoulder every step of the way, keeping him in step and grooming him to take over as king at the rightful time. He would do right by his father and his country.
Edward was about to head back to his car when he heard a loud clatter from the back of the building. He was inclined to dismiss it as an animal—something the crew would take care of in the morning—until he heard a distinctly human voice grumble out a curse. Someone was here. It could be one of the protestors who were against the demolition of historical sites. These days, they were always showing up out of nowhere, complicating his efforts to move Sovalon into the future. He slid down on the screen of his phone to find the flashlight.
“Damn, damn, damn.” The last thing he needed was another activist breathing down his neck or worse, getting injured on a work site. He remembered what the foreman had said about the fragility of the flooring. He entered the building—carefully watching his steps—and pushed into the darkness toward the rustling he heard coming from the back room, shining his light into corners and searching for the source of the racket.
He turned into the classroom at the rear of the house, his phone illuminating the way. In between shadows, he noticed details of the old room. A long-unused chalkboard took up most of one wall in the room where he stood. A rickety desk with a dusty book on top sat in front of the chalkboard, still inhabited with minutiae from another time. He picked up a book, its pages as fragile as dead autumn leaves and filled with the dust of the last century-plus. He turned the book over in his hands and shone the light on its barely-legible title. Something about Aristotle’s ethics.
When he placed the book down, tiny dust motes rose and glimmered magically in the light of the phone. He jumped back in surprise when a restrained sneeze escaped from beneath the desk, scaring the living hell out of him.
“Who’s there?” Edward angled his phone on the distressed hardwood floors and saw a sneaker peeking out from under the desk. He crouched down to inspect and was face to face with a pair of steel blue eyes that, for a moment, made him forget why he was there.
The woman with the eyes let out a sigh of what sounded like frustration and edged out of her hiding place.
“Well, you found me,” she said. Edward heard an edge of defiance in her voice but was so taken aback by her appearance, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Her hair shone golden in the phone light, its waves framing her face like a halo. She pushed her shoulders back, revealing a swan-like neck and high cheekbones. He had the urge to run a finger down her cheek. “So now what?” she asked. “Are you going to report me to your boss for trespassing?”
His boss? He’d dressed with practicality in mind rather than fashion for this visit, assuming he’d be led through a dusty, dirty building, so he supposed he could understand why she’d take him for a construction worker at first glance. It still stung his pride a little that she didn’t recognize his face, which had graced more than its share of magazine covers. Maybe he was too hidden by shadows. The flashlight was pointed at her, not him, after all.
Edward noticed that the woman had a backpack slung over her back. She was dressed in jeans that hung low on her waist, exposing a shaft of skin at her hips. He got stuck there for a moment then gathered himself.
“Are you squatting here?” he asked. “This is a construction site. It’s not safe for—”
Before he could finish, she turned on her heel. He knew she was going to bolt and reached out to grab hold of the backpack, thinking that would stop her. Instead, the bag slid from her shoulder, and she turned back toward him with angry eyes.
“Give that back,” she commanded, and he couldn’t help but grin. No one spoke to him this way, except for perhaps his father.
“Tell me your name,” he said.
“Why should I?” she asked and reached for her sack, but he held it away from her. She rolled her eyes at him and sighed. “Fine,” she said and tossed her hands in the air. “Empty it and just give back the bag then.”
Out of curiosity, he unzipped the backpack and shone the light inside, revealing a host of items that looked like construction junk to him—pieces of scratched wood that looked to be quarter round molding and a pile of ceramic tile. No wonder the backpack was heavy. He pulled out a weighty hand bell that boasted a long crack down its middle and inspected it.
“You’re pilfering?” he asked and she shrugged. Why would anyone want this old junk? He dug deeper into the backpack only to find more garbage. When Edward looked up from his search, he discovered the beautiful woman slipping out of the classroom door then breaking into a run toward the back door.
“Wait!” he cried and ran after her, backpack in hand.
* * *
Clem dashed into the night, sucking in the cool air of evening as she raced from the abandoned schoolhouse and into the yard behind it. What the hell was that damn construction worker doing lurking around the building in the near-dark?
Dammit.
Not only had that jerk taken her backpack with the precious pieces she’d found in the schoolhouse, but if he caught up to her, he could turn her in for stealing. She imagined the look on her father’s face when he discovered the truth about how she acquired the treasures she brought to their shop. Along with her uncle Stoddard, Clementine and her father ran the only architectural salvage business in Sovalon. The company was barely staying afloat now, and a robbery scandal would be no good for business.
Usually, when Clem went on these stealth missions, her presence went completely undetected. She targeted places that were set to be demolished. Places where countless historical artifacts would be destroyed if she didn’t step in and save them. In Clem’s opinion, she wasn’t stealing but rescuing prized remnants from the past. The finds she collected told stories of a life before the hectic hustle and bustle of today. They were treasures that just happened to help her struggling family business stay afloat.
Clem heard footfalls rushing toward her. She broke into a sprint toward the alley behind the house, her calf muscles screaming as she pushed them to run faster.
“Stop!” he called out to her, and the deep command in his tone made her flinch. When she heard the sound of his breath, coming fast like hers, she knew he was practically on top of her. A moment later, a heavy hand pushed into her shoulder and got a grip of her shirt. She was jerked backward, and his body crashed into hers, throwing them both off-balance and tumbling them into the grass. The stars seemed to spin above her as she tried to right herself beneath his hard body and wiggle free.
“Get off!” she cried, and he pushed himself up from atop her.
“Who are you?” he demanded and grabbed her by the arm before she could get up and dash off again. “And what were you doing stealing junk from the schoolhouse?”
“Junk?” Clem stuck out her chin.
“Yes, junk,” he said. “I should call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”
Clem straightened her torso so she was sitting up straight, using the ground under one hand to keep her balance. She leaned in, daring him. “Go ahead and call.”
She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response, but all he did was shake his head and curl his free hand into a fist. She couldn’t help but notice his biceps—definitely a product of his line of work. Finally, he sighed in what sounded like defeat. His gaze fell on her and softened as he took all of her in and swallowed hard. She knew the look of a man who was into her. She’d seen it before, and she knew she could use it. This guy wasn’t going to call the cops.
“By the way,” she said, still careful not to break eye contact with him. “They’re antiques, not junk.” Not that she expected a construction worker to recognize the importance of her prizes, but his words annoyed her. “And the school is set to be blown to pieces tomorrow, so I wasn’t stealing them. I was rescuing them.”
“Why?”
It wasn’t any of his business, so Clem didn’t answer him. Instead, she took a moment to study the man who had her in his strong grip. Now that they were out in the moonlight and she could see him more clearly, he looked oddly familiar. She knew him from somewhere, but where? His dark eyes dug into her, brooding and serious, but when she dared to stare back into them just as hard, his lips bent into a subtle grin. As quickly as it had appeared, the smile was gone.
“Sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. He let go of Clem’s arm and held out the backpack to her. “I was trying to tell you back there in the schoolhouse that it’s foolish for anyone to be traipsing around a condemned building. Especially in the dark. The dangers—”
“I can take care of myself,” Clem interrupted and took her bag back. He stood and offered a hand to help her up. Something in her twisted, a desire to take his hand, to feel his skin on hers, but she resisted. She stood up on her own, examined the bag’s contents to ensure nothing was missing, then looked up at him. In the light of the moon, his handsome features snagged her attention, bringing to life once again a strange yearning in her belly. Tall and lean, he was obviously in great shape. His wavy sand-colored hair flopped over his face, giving him a boyish look that matched the freckles flecking his nose and cheeks. Warmth crawled up her neck when she realized how long she’d been staring. She couldn’t deny it; she was attracted to him too.
“Thanks,” she said and held up the backpack. “You look really…” She was about to say “familiar” but then decided to leave it. She didn’t need to complicate the situation by showing interest in this man. He may be attractive, but he was clearly not her type if he was in any way involved in the destruction of the schoolhouse. Better to just walk away.
She swiveled on one foot, but before she could take a step away from him, he had a hand on her shoulder and was angling her body into his. His lips landed on hers before she knew she wanted them to, but once they were there, she couldn’t deny her desire. The heat was palpable between them, and in the space of one small kiss, a million fires were lit on Clementine’s skin. When the man pulled away, he looked just as surprised as she was. Clem stepped back to gather herself. What the hell was that?
Without thinking, she held up her hand and gave an awkward wave. “Bye,” she said and started in the other direction.
“Wait,” he called out.
She swung back around, ready to give him an earful about how she may have kissed him back but she certainly was not interested in anything more, especially with someone like him whose very career put him at the polar opposite end of everything she stood for. But before she could say a word, he held out her backpack. In the throes of their kiss, she must have dropped it.
“You don’t want to forget this,” he said.
His hand brushed hers as she took the bag from him, and a thrill coursed down her arm. The fire was once again ignited, and she felt herself melting like candle wax in the flame of his stare. She had to extinguish this desire and cool the hell down before she did something she would regret. With all of the gumption she could muster, she broke from his gaze. She ran off in the other direction, her bag full of treasures bouncing against her shoulder, the memory of his lips overshadowing everything else.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant (Sovalon Royals Book One) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
