The Lord's Passionate Lover (The Royals of Monaco, #3) Read online

  “Thank you. You look very handsome yourself,” Liane replied.

  “Oh, I look average.”

  Liane laughed. “Modest, very nice,” she said as he smiled in response. .

  “You made it,” Jean Pierre said as he approached them. “Ladies, please excuse us as I need to steal him for a moment,” he said, as he kissed his wife.

  “Oh, do take him,” Francesca said. Liane looked at her with raised eyebrows. Francesca shrugged her shoulders and sipped her champagne as the men walked away. She always felt so nervous around Lord Jacques. Mrs LeBlanc walked in moments later and went to greet her girls first. Her husband, Colonel LeBlanc, was still away on an errand for the king and was not able to attend. She was so proud of Macee. Months ago, she would never have imagined her daughter organising such a grand event let alone being the crown princess. She had come a long way in such a short time.

  As the dinner drew to an end, Francesca was glad that the men and women were sitting on different sides of the room in anticipation of the auction. This meant that Lord Jacques was not sitting at their table. He made her feel uncomfortable the way he was always staring at her as if she were some sort of specimen. Macee walked up on stage to the microphone. “Good evening, everyone. I hope you are enjoying yourselves this evening. Before we begin, on behalf of the Global Girls charity, I want to thank you for your attendance,” she said. “Now, it is time for the part of the evening that the bachelors have been waiting for,” Macee said as she winked. Some of the guests laughed. “Okay, gentlemen have your cheque books ready and let us get started,” she added. She called the first bachelorette to the stage and started the auction.

  “This is crazy,” Francesca whispered to Liane.

  “Why? I think it’s fun,” Liane replied.

  “It feels like you are being told how much you are worth and its horrible if no one really bids on you.”

  Liane laughed. Her sister was so uptight. When she was betrothed to the crown prince, she had to act accordingly. Now that she was not, she wanted to let down her hair a little, especially since Jean Pierre was a bad influence on her. However, Francesca had no reason to be so uptight.

  “You know your worth, so why should you feel otherwise? And it’s a charity event. Someone will always bid.”

  “Why are you not bidding?” Prince Louis asked Lord Jacques who was just sitting there sipping his champagne.

  “I have not seen anything I like yet,” he responded as Prince Louis and Jean Pierre laughed.

  Macee carried on with the auction and it was going well. She thought of adding one more bachelorette and she knew that she was going to be in trouble with her afterwards. “Now the last young lady up for auction will be my beautiful and intelligent sister, Francesca,” Macee said.

  Francesca's eyes flew open. When Macee had told her about the auction, she told her that she would never do anything like that. Even Liane was unaware of her plans, but she definitely liked the idea. Francesca shook her head but everyone at the table kept cheering for her to get on stage.

  Chapter 7

  Francesca reluctantly stood up and walked to the stage to stand next to Macee. “I am going to kill you,” she whispered as Macee hugged her from the side.

  “Shall we start the bidding at 200 Euros?” Macee asked. Francesca closed her eyes wishing all this was simply a bad dream. She was worth much more than that and the highest bid of the night was 30,000 Euros. The guests started bidding. Francesca could not wait for it to be over but if she was auctioned off for a low amount, she was not going to be happy.

  Lord Jacques sat there watching Francesca on the stage. He could tell from where he sat that she did not like the idea and he could not help smiling. The dress she was wearing complimented her shape. She was beautiful, from head to toe. “20,000,” Lord Jacques called out. Macee and Francesca whipped their heads in his direction. Even Prince Louis and Jean Pierre were surprised.

  “Things just got interesting,” Liane whispered to Katherine.

  “22,000,” another man bid.

  “24,000,” Lord Jacques countered. Macee lowered her microphone and watched. Mrs LeBlanc raised her eyebrows. This was something she did not mind; well-established wealthy men were interested in her daughter.

  “30,000,” the other man said. Francesca smiled to herself. She was worried that she would go at a low bid. She hoped that Jacques would stop bidding, as she did not fancy the idea of being on a date with him.

  “40,000,” Lord Jacques bid. The guests gasped.

  “50,000.”

  “70,000.” Lord Jacques bid as he stood up.

  Macee looked at the other man to see if he was going to bid but he did not. “The winning bid is for 70,000 Euros by Lord Jacques,” Macee shouted as the guests clapped their hands. Francesca looked at Jacques, but she could not read his expression. She was still reeling from what just happened. Why would he pay that much just for a date with her? Granted it was for charity, but 70,000 Euros. That was unheard of; what could he possibly be thinking?

  Francesca returned to her seat. “I am going to kill her,” she said to Liane.

  “That was amazing,” Liane replied. She was shocked at Jacques's bid, shocked and impressed.

  “Oh that was great,” Katherine said to Francesca.

  “It was uncomfortable,” Francesca replied.

  “Why? There were men willing to pay that much just for one dinner date with you.”

  “The wrong ones.”

  “That is humour, right?” Katherine looked at Liane and then back at Francesca. “The man is handsome and oozing with sex appeal,” she added. “Why wouldn’t you want to go out with him?”

  “I agree one hundred per cent,” Macee said as she re-joined them. Francesca whipped her head in Macee's direction.

  “Macee, how could you?” Francesca complained.

  “Frannie, I would think that you would feel at least a little good about it.”

  “I would! You got the highest bid of the night. The second one is not even half yours,” Liane said. Francesca sighed and picked up her glass of champagne.

  “At least he knows I am worth a lot,” she said.

  “That's my girl,” Mrs LeBlanc said. The queen said nothing as she sat there listening to their conversation. She had hoped to see her daughter with Lord Jacques. He was the next man on her list of suitors for her daughter. It did not sit well with her that he was interested in a LeBlanc.

  “You found someone that you liked?” Prince Louis asked Lord Jacques. Although he was surprised that it was Francesca.

  “I did,” Lord Jacques replied.

  “That should make for an interesting dinner date,” Jean Pierre said.

  “Oh, yes it will. I am intrigued to find out the result,” Prince Louis added.

  The auction had ended, which meant the end of the night. As the guests were leaving, Francesca went to speak with Lord Jacques. She stood in front of him with her fingers laced together. While she had much to say to him, her mouth went dry and she found that she could not say anything. She just stared at him as he looked back at her.

  “I look forward to our date,” he said to her breaking their silence.

  “You paid that much for a date with me?” Francesca sighed. “What is it that you want from me?” she asked him. She could not understand what he saw in her.

  “It is for charity is it not?”

  “Yes, but I was the only woman you bid on.”

  “You were paying attention to me?”

  “Do not flatter yourself.” Francesca turned on her heel and walked off. Jacques had never had a woman speak to him as flippantly as she did. He was a well-groomed respectful man with a title and the advisor to the future king. Maybe it was because she was the crown princess's sister that she acted the way she did. On the other hand, it intrigued him. He could not wait to get to know her more.

  Macee linked her arm around her husband's as they left. She bid farewell to the staff members and the girls. They had manage
d to raise 900,000 Euros. As her first charity event, she could not believe how well it had gone. “I wonder if the queen liked the event,” she asked Louis.

  “I am sure she did. Everyone did,” he replied.

  “I definitely did.”

  “You did a great job.” He kissed her on the cheek as their driver opened the door for them.

  “Thank you,” she said as she got into the car.

  * * *

  Francesca stared at her clothes, as she contemplated what to wear on her dinner date with Jacques. The night had finally arrived and she had no choice but to go. She ran her hand through her light brown hair. She did not want to dress up too much. He would think she put in too much effort for him. At the same time, she did not want to look like she did not put in any effort at all. He had paid 70,000 euros.

  She finally decided on a peach sleeveless dress with a boat neck. The dress hugged her breasts tightly and gently flared from under her breasts to her knees. She wore diamond studs and pinned her hair up. Her makeup was very subtle, creating a natural look. Lastly, she slipped on white three-inch heels.

  Macee walked into her quarters just as she was about to leave. “Are you going like that?” Macee asked her.

  “What is wrong with this?” Francesca raised her eyebrows.

  “You look lovely and sophisticated.”

  “But?”

  “But not for a date.”

  “I still wonder how it is that you are going to be the queen.”

  Macee laughed. It was true. Her dress sense was not elegant enough. Luckily, she had people to help her with that. “But you are not, and your dress is much too matronly for you,” she added.

  “I am not changing. Besides it's not like I need to impress anyone,” Francesca replied and headed out of the room.

  “Have fun,” Macee called out behind her.

  When Francesca stepped out of the palace, there was a car waiting for her. It surprised her, not that she did not have her own driver but it was kind of him. The driver opened the door for her as she got in wondering where he was taking her.

  Chapter 8

  Francesca arrived at her destination just over half an hour later. She was surprised to be at the harbour. As she got out of the car, she saw Jacques standing by a yacht. He was wearing light grey tailored trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She paused to admire him. She had to admit that he really is good looking in a rugged sort of way. He did not carry himself like many of the other men around court. He seemed more rugged, like someone who was not afraid to get dirty.

  “Good evening, Miss LeBlanc,” he said as she approached him.

  “Good evening,” she replied, as she took his offered hand and he helped her onto his boat. “We are going to dine on a boat?” she asked as she looked around. The yacht was impressive.

  Nodding his head, “Yes, I thought that we could dine on my boat this evening.”

  Francesca raised her eyebrows, “Your boat?” she asked.

  “You are surprised?”

  “I am.”

  “These are all my boats,” he told her as he pointed to the boats clustered nearby. “I build boats in my spare time,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Wow, do you really?” Francesca was surprised, pleasantly surprised. The boat started moving away from the slip, as the captain got the yacht underway.

  “Yes, ever since I was seventeen,” he said as he led her to the deck.

  “That is impressive. How did you get into it?”

  “Since I was a child, I’ve enjoyed sailing. When I was a teen, I completed my first boat,” Jacques smiled. He could still remember it.

  “I bet it was small.”

  He laughed. “It was a small one,” he said.

  “What did you do with it?”

  “I still have it,” Lord Jacques replied as he looked at Francesca. She was actually smiling. That was the first time he had seen her smile around him and he realized that he wanted to see more of it. “Come with me.” He led her over to a table with a white tablecloth laid out with fine china and crystal glasses. Lord Jacques pulled out the chair for Francesca.

  “Thank you,” she said as she sat down.

  “You're welcome,” he replied as he sat across from her.

  The waiter brought shrimp as a starter. Francesca loved shrimp. She engaged him in conversation as they ate. It was obvious that he was passionate about boats, which he made sound fascinating. She was glad to know that there was something to him other than politics.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he asked her.

  “There is nothing much to say,” Francesca replied as she blushed. She did not even know where to begin. The waiter poured them some red wine.

  “I am sure that is not true.”

  “Sadly it is. What is your name anyway?” Francesca changed the subject. She actually wondered what his first name was.

  “Olivier. Tell me what your favourite colour is.”

  Francesca narrowed her gaze at him. “My favourite colour?” Talking about favourite colours was such a juvenile thing.

  “Start there if it is difficult to speak about yourself.”

  The waiter served them lobster and pasta with herb creamed sauce. Yet again, Francesca was impressed. Olivier had chosen good food, if he was the one who had chosen them. “Purple,” she finally said as she picked up her fork.

  “Green looks good on you,” he told her as he remembered the green dress she wore at the charity event.

  “Thank you.” Francesca was not sure what to say.

  “You are a closed book.”

  “I actually just realised that I am not that interesting,” she confessed. Olivier raised his eyebrows.

  “Is that so?”

  Francesca sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. She told him about working on her degree, but that she had never worked a day in her life. She had recently moved into the palace to be closer to her sister until she gave birth. Now she had nothing to do. She also told him about the charity events and dinner parties she organised.

  They carried on talking as they ate. The sky was streaked in a rainbow of colours, as the sun rested upon the horizon. Francesca thought it was beautiful as she sipped from her glass and looked at the sunset. For dessert, they were served a chocolate soufflé. Francesca had to admit that this was the best meal she had eaten in a long while and the company was not that bad either. After dinner, they stood on the deck looking out at the sea.

  “So dining with me was not that bad after all,” Olivier said to Francesca, as he stood closer to her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know that you were dreading it and now you realise that there was nothing to worry about.”

  “You are always quick to assume things about me.”

  “Just stating an observation.”

  “You make it sound more like fact.”

  Olivier moved closer to her and started taking the hairpins out of her hair. Francesca looked at him. “What are you doing?” she asked him. He ignored her as he finished pulling the hairpins out and let her hair cascade down her back.

  “You have beautiful hair and it looks good when it's down. It makes you look less uptight,” he said to her. Francesca raised her eyebrows.

  “You are a peculiar man.”

  Olivier laughed. He gently took her shoulders and turned her toward him. He massaged her shoulders as Francesca looked at him. She had no idea how to react. It felt good the way he was touching her and did not want him to stop.

  “You are so tense,” he said. “No surprise there.”

  “Why is that not surprising?” Francesca's speech was a little slurred as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She did not want to close them. Closing them meant admitting that she liked his touch. While she had been kissed once before, she had never been touched by a man.

  “You do not seem like you relax much.”

  “Another assumption.”

  “Observation.”

  Francesca stop
ped him from massaging her as she began to feel uncomfortable with how close he was to her. “How come you did not remarry?” she asked him. She had remembered Macee telling her that he was divorced.

  “I have not found anyone that I want to marry,” he replied.

  “Will you ever remarry?”

  “I don't know.” Olivier shrugged his shoulders. As the breeze picked up, Francesca’s hair lifted enticingly. His gaze grew darker and more intense. She was beautiful. Francesca found herself feeling shy. It was so hard for her to look him in the eye. It was even harder now because they were standing so close to each other.

  Olivier ran his fingers through her hair, as he caressed her jaw. Francesca blushed, unsure what to say as her stomach knotted up. His hand felt good, as he stroked her face. She wanted to close her eyes and enjoy his touch but she was determined not to show him that she was enjoying it. She was not sure how to act in this situation. Was she to touch him back or slap his hand away?

  Chapter 9

  “How old are you?” Francesca asked him. She felt like she needed to say something to diffuse the awkwardness and she was actually wondering how old he was. She felt that was the appropriate moment to ask him.

  “Thirty-six,” he replied.

  “You are fifteen years older than I am.” She had no idea why she said that. Olivier's facial expression did not change.

  “Yes, I am,” he replied as he caressed her collarbone with the back of his hand. Francesca let out a sigh.

  “I do not understand you. What are your motives?” she asked him.

  “They are certainly pure,” he said to her. While it was obvious that she was an innocent, he still found himself amused by her reaction. He slid his hands in his pockets.

  “Are they?”

  “Did you think I was going to make love to you here?”

  Her eyes flew open. She had not thought of that. She was surprised by his lack of tact. He just came out and said it. She could feel her cheeks turning red. “I was not thinking that!” she said but now she was. There was a nice cool breeze, the sun had set and they were on his boat. It was perfect.