Behind every glance and every choice is a story of its own.

Meet the characters who move through Eldoria — some boldly, some in shadow, all unforgettable.

Download the character cards here!

Elena reads a moment from her own story.

Watch Elena read from her book here!

Beneath crystal chandeliers and sweeping music, a single evening set events in motion that could never be undone.

Read the excerpt from The Billionaire's Royal Challenge:

After the fanfare, an announcement was made that the royal ball would commence with the dancing being led by King Frederick and his daughter, Princess Elena.  

“Here we go,” Caroline answered.  “The Queen will approach you just before others join in.  I’ll prompt you.  Are you prepared with your conversation topics?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod, butterflies filling his stomach.

“Don’t fret.  She is very kind.”

He nodded, though the words did little to ease his nerves.  

King Frederick led Elena to the dance floor.  She curtsied to him as he bowed to her before they took up their form.  The music began, and they floated across the floor, swirling in perfect time.  

For a man who said he found the dance challenging, it looked to Nate as though he’d never had any issues mastering it.  Elena appeared at perfect ease, too, gliding along with her father with a wide grin.  

“She makes it look so easy,” Nate said to his mother. 

She offered him a reassuring squeeze as the queen rose from her seat.  His heart began to pound harder as she strode toward him.

“Good luck,” his mother whispered.  

He bowed, his breath catching in his throat, as the queen stood in front of him.  

“Hello, Mr. Kingsley, would you join me?”

“Gladly,” he said as Caroline offered him a wink and a nod.  

She led him to the floor as other couples prepared to join in the waltz.  “You look very lovely.”

“Thank you,” she answered as they took up their closed form.  “Relax, it is not meant to be painful.”

“Sorry,” he said, letting his muscles go a little looser than the rigid, tense hold he had.  

“There is no need to be nervous, dear, I don’t bite.”  She grinned at him.  

He laughed a little too much at the joke as they began moving to the music.  “Sorry, again.  I’m…not very sure of the steps.  I’m nowhere near as polished as His Majesty.”

“No one expects you to master all facets of royal life in less than a week.”

He swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto his face as he sought to recall the topics he was supposed to discuss.  “I’m just…I want to prove that–”

“That you can marry my daughter?” she finished for him.

He nodded, and she matched his expression.  “Yes, I understand.  However, that really comes down more to your ability to accept Elena’s lifestyle than how polished your footwork is.”

His forehead creased as he desperately tried to remember his steps and hold up his end of the conversation.  Why had it looked so easy when Elena danced with her father?

“It is quite important that she have a supportive spouse.  One who understands the demands that will be placed on her as Queen of Eldoria.  It can be grueling. There will be times when she kisses you goodbye before the sun rises and does not see you until the sun sets if at all.”

“Yes, I understand.  I…want to support her very much.”

“She feels that you would be up to the task, too.”

“And what do you think?” Nate asked, immediately wondering if he shouldn’t have.

“I think that you have potential.”  As she made her last statement, the dance ended.  The dancers came to a halt to applaud before moving to other partners for a more relaxed dance or leaving the floor to mingle.  

After a kiss on his cheek, Elena left her father’s side and hurried to Nate.  “And how did he do, Mother?  Are all your toes intact?”

“Quite.  An admirable job for a beginner.  If you’ll excuse me.”  With a slight bow of her head, she stepped away, leaving them alone.  

“You did fantastic from what I could see,” Elena gushed.  “And Father stopped during the procession.  Quite a good sign.”

Before he could answer, someone bumped into him, sloshing liquid all over his sleeve.  “Oh, terribly sorry, Kingsley,” Eric said.  “My apologies.”

He offered the man a less-than-genuine smile as he brushed the liquid off.

For those who wish to linger a little longer, the story begins here.

Read the first two chapters of the series below.

Chapter 1

Elena

Elena tightened her fingers around the chair’s carved arm as she faced her father on the opposite side of the desk.  In the private office at their sprawling country estate, once a sanctuary, what began as a father-daughter conversation had turned into a war.  The heavy drapes and portraits of her ancestors staring down at them all bore witness to the battleground of wills between a king and his princess.

“But, Father–” she began in her crisp British accent honed from years with her British tutor, only to be cut off when he raised a hand.

As her words stopped, he pulled his hand back, tugging on the still-dark beard poking from his chin.  “Elena, I will not hear any more of your…entreaties.”

“I am not whining,” she said as she settled her arms across her chest.

“You are.”

She narrowed her emerald eyes at her father, the current king of her small country of Eldoria.  “Did you bring me here to celebrate my birthday, or merely to deliver this crushing news in a more calming setting?”

Her father closed his blue eyes, his nostrils flaring with a deep sigh.  “Elena, this is hardly news to you.”

A storm of emotions whirled within her, sitting just below the surface. A fierce desire for freedom clashed with her ingrained duty of her royal lineage.  She yearned to shout and argue that her life deserved more than a set of predetermined steps set out at birth. Yet, years of rigid decorum held her back, molding her protest into a quiet plea for independence.

She tugged her doll-like lips into a frown.  She had known since she was a child she was betrothed to a prince from another country.  She’d lived her life in that shadow.

In this very room, she’d been taught the importance of fulfilling her royal duties.  As crown princess of Eldoria, she would ascend to the throne one day.  She’d been reared by her father’s sometimes overbearing hand and her mother’s far gentler one to rule a country.

Over the years, those lessons had turned to lectures.  Lectures about duty, lectures about state decisions, lectures about everything to do with her royal commitments.  They all seemed like burdens to her now.

“I fail to see how this is crushing news, Elena.”  Her father rose from his seat and stalked to the window, staring out over the lush rolling hills.  “You have known of it since you were a child.”

“And I have hated it since then.”

It wasn’t the busy schedule, the charity work, or the lack of freedom in general so much as it was this matter.

Her engagement was set to be announced in six months with a wedding to follow quickly after.  She’d marry a man she’d met on two previous occasions, once when she was seven, and spoken a grand total of twenty words to.

She hated the idea.  And she’d said as much on numerous occasions.  As a seven-year-old, when she’d been introduced to her future husband, Prince Eric of Corinthia, she’d slapped him across the face and stormed off.

Her mother had followed, smoothing her hair as she curled her tiny hands into fists at the unfairness of it all.

“You have said as much on numerous occasions, Elena.  It changes nothing.  Must I remind you of your–”

“Royal duties?  No, you mustn’t, Father.  But I fail to see how this must be one of them.  Do my feelings not matter?  Have I no say in the direction of my life?”

“When you are a princess who will one day be Queen, no, you do not.”

Her features twisted as she pounded a hand against the chair’s arm.  “But Father–”

“Stop whining, Elena.  The matter is settled.  It has been since you were born.”  He twisted to face her, the corners of his lips curling as he clasped his hands behind his back.  “Now, about your birthday present.”

“No, I will not be distracted by a birthday present.  We have not finished with the other conversation.”

“We have,” her father said, his smile slipping.

“I care not for the birthday present you have. I have another in mind.”

“If you are asking to cancel your upcoming nuptials, it is out of the question.”

Elena’s lips twisted into a pout, and she flicked a lock of dark hair over her shoulder.  A quiet knock sounded at the door before it popped open.

Her mother poked her head in, her voice soft and soothing, honed after years of practice at being the kindly queen.  “I have not heard any explosions, so I thought I would check to ensure both of you remain alive.”

“We are both alive, though Elena is pouting.”

Her mother was light-haired to her dark, but with matching emerald eyes.  She crossed to her and stroked her hair, just as she had all those years ago when she’d met her fiancé.  “Do not pout, darling.  It will all work out.”

Her mother’s touch was a balm, yet also a reminder of the gentle strength that had long held their family together.  Her mother’s words echoed in her mind.  “Remember, Elena, true strength lies in understanding and compassion, not just in maintaining tradition,” she’d said so often in the past.

Elena focused on those words, using them as a guiding light amidst her turmoil.  “I am not pouting, Mother.  I am understandably upset over the end of my life.”

“Now, that’s hardly the case,” her mother said.

“If your mother and I felt that way, you would not be here, my darling daughter.”

Elena heaved a sigh.  Her mother and father were a matched pair.  They’d grown to love each other, and they expected her to do the same with a perfect stranger.  “Perhaps that would be better.”

“Elena Sophia Catherine Montclair!” her mother exclaimed, her voice still soft though clearly showing her disapproval.  “What a horrid thing to say!”

Elena chewed her lower lip, the frown still etched in her features.  “I cannot help it, Mother.  I am not living, merely alive.  And I am quite fed up with it.”

She leapt from her chair and stormed from the room.  After slamming the door behind her, she curled her fingers into fists and let out a muffled scream.  She raced down the thick carpet in the middle of the hall past the suits of armor and the coat of arms tying her to the honor and dignity of the Montclairs.

She took the steps two-by-two past the stained-glass windows, twisted around on the landing and hurried up to the second floor.  Tears stung her eyes as she hurried to her suite.  She burst inside, raced to the large four-poster bed and flung herself onto it.

A soft, but authoritative voice spoke to her a moment later.  “I take it things did not go as planned, Your Highness?”

“Not quite, Caroline,” she said to the auburn-haired woman who had attended her since she was a child.

Her ladies’ maid, Caroline, served as best friend and confidante, in addition to attending to her every need.  She offered Elena a tight-lipped smile, clasping her hands in front of her.

“I do not understand,” Elena said through sobs.  “How can it be so unfair?”

“Your parents were an arranged marriage, Your Highness.  Perhaps it is not as bad as all that?”

“You have met Prince Eric.  It can be.  He is a pompous ass.”

Caroline sniggered at the comment.  “Though not one you cannot handle, Your Highness.”

Elena pouted again as she twisted the silk duvet in her fist.  “I do not wish to handle it.”

Caroline crossed to the antique mahogany vanity and picked up the silver brush.  “Come, let me brush your hair.”

“I do not wish you to brush my hair,” Elena said with a forlorn sob.

“Don’t you?”

Elena frowned as she tilted her chin down to study Caroline.  She pulled herself from the bed and shuffled to the chair before she plopped into it.  Her fingers traced the delicate crystal of her perfume atomizer as Caroline gently tugged the brush through her long, dark locks.

“I have never seen you look so defeated.  Where is the fire that lights those emerald eyes?”

“Gone.  Smashed by my father as he set a deadline for this ridiculous marriage to happen.”

“That feisty Elena Montclair spirit smashed?  I don’t believe it.”  Caroline grinned at her through the mirror.

Elena drummed her fingers against the marble top of the vanity as she flicked her gaze out the open French doors leading to the massive stone balcony.  She narrowed her eyes at the spring blooms on the flowering trees on the rolling green hills.

“Eldoria is quite a small country, isn’t it, Caroline?”

“Yes, it is.  But still important.”

“I care not of its importance at the moment.”

The brush hesitated before finishing its swipe through her hair.  “You have that faraway look that suggests a plan is hatching in that sharp mind of yours.”

“I believe I have formed a plan.  And if it works…” She ripped her gaze from the landscape, centering them on Caroline through the mirror.  “I just may be free.”

The corners of her lips turned up as she practiced her plea.  She spent the last parts of her afternoon perfecting it, refining the words, carefully crafting the statements for the maximum impact. She’d learned much over the years from both her father and her mother about how to win an argument, a skill she’d need as monarch of a small country.

“Any hints?” Caroline asked as she finished with her hairstyle for dinner.

Elena grinned at her as she pulled her gloves on.  “None.  Wish me luck, dear Caroline.  If I succeed, we shall have much planning to do.”

She lifted her skirts on her formal dinner gown and hurried from the room, down to the living room.

“Fashionably late, darling,” her father said as he poured her a sherry.

“My sincere apologies, Father, but I had quite a bit of thinking to do.”

“Oh?” her mother said after a sip of her cocktail.  “And what conclusions did you come to?”

“It was not so much a conclusion as an idea,” Elena answered, perching with a straight back on the edge of the sofa next to her mother.

“An idea?  For?” her father asked.

Elena sipped at her sherry, making her final refinements to her proposal.  “I understand my duty to this country and this family.  And I intend to fulfill it.  Though I have a request first.”

Her father arched a dark eyebrow.  “Excellent news, darling.  What is your request?”

“I have been quite sheltered here.  Before my life becomes entwined with state affairs and the demands of a husband, I wish to travel. Maybe engage in solitary charity work without the formalities of royal obligations.  Real character-building work.”

After exchanging a glance with her mother, her father narrowed his eyes at Elena.  “Travel?  Darling, if you would like to see the sights, I would be happy to escort you on a world-wide tour.  It can be your birthday present.”

Elena shook her head.  “No, Father.  Not a tour.  I have seen Paris, London, Athens, Rome, all from the back of a limousine and the heights of a penthouse.  But I want to experience life.  Somewhere where no one knows me. I want to spend some time alone before I am tether–joined by a husband.”

“And on this little…life trip, you would…do what?”

“Learn.  About the world.  About me.  About how to be an effective leader.”

He puckered his lips as he shot another glance to her mother who offered a slight tilt to her head and a lift of one shoulder, indicative of her entertaining the idea.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well,” she said with a deep breath, “I will participate in a number of charitable organizations.  Like a soup kitchen or a homeless shelter.  But not throwing a charity gala for them—actually working with the people.”

“And afterwards, you would return home, and announce your engagement?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile.  “I just feel…overwhelmed and would like to explore before I’m so fully committed.”

“Perhaps a spa session would be more in order.”

“Oh, Father, I am trying to be responsible here.  A massage and a facial will do nothing for my character.”

“I do not like it, Elena,” he answered as he paced the floor.

Her heart sank as she desperately searched for a way to bolster her argument without seeming too desperate.

“Perhaps it is not a terrible idea, Frederick,” her mother said.

“Sending her to London or Paris to live among the masses alone is not a terrible idea?  Sophia!”

Her mother heaved a small sigh.

“No, Father, not London or Paris.  Sterling City.”

“The States?” he cried.

“Yes.  A very safe city.  I researched it.  Low crime, a vibrant art community, so many things I could learn.  And I would not go alone.  I would take Caroline.  You may even send some security, but not enough to call attention.”

Her father stared up at the portrait of his own father, taking another sip of his cocktail.

“Please, Father. Consider it my birthday gift.”

“Why are you so insistent not to take security?”

Elena chewed her lower lip, considering dancing around the truth.  “I don’t want to be treated differently.  I don’t want to be treated like a princess.”

“Yet you are, my darling.  You are royalty.  You will ascend to the throne and rule this country.”

“And I would like to do that with benevolence and empathy.  What better way to grow those values in me than to allow me to experience life?”

Her father heaved another sigh, rubbing his beard as he flicked his gaze to her mother.  The flicker of a smile and amusement glowing from her eyes suggested she did not disagree, but left the handling of their headstrong daughter to him.

Her father flicked his blue eyes to her.  She offered him her best pleading daughter expression, the one that typically melted his heart.

With another heavy puff, he pressed his lips together and bobbed his head.  “All right, Elena.  You may go to–”

His statement was interrupted by her shriek of delight as she leapt from her seat and flung her arms around his neck.  “Thank you, Father!  You will not be disappointed in me, I promise.”

“See that I am not,” he said in his sternest voice, though she knew it was all for show.

She kissed his cheek, pleased as the corners of his lips turned up.  “May I be excused for the evening?  I have many plans to make.”

“I suppose so, though I do expect to spend a good bit of time with you before you leave us.”

“Of course, Father,” she said with a grin before she spun on her heel and hurried from the room.

She snaked through the halls of the country estate to her room.  With the doors closed behind her, she leaned back against them and let out a squeal of delight.

“That sounds like you’re pleased as punch,” Caroline said as she laid out Elena’s pajamas.

“I am!  Caroline, we’re going to the States.”  Elena threw her hands in the air.  “We are going to Sterling City!”

“Well, that is exciting.  Your plan worked, though it only provides a temporary escape from your duties.”

“That, Caroline, is where you are wrong.  There is nothing temporary about my escape.  I am going to Sterling City to get away from the constraints of the royalty.  I am running away!”

Elena’s eyes sparkled as she bit into her lower lip, tempering the smile spreading across her features.  She’d succeeded with her plan and soon, she’d be free.

Excitement bubbled within her.  Elena couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead.  Sterling City, a place of unknowns, of potential adventures and hidden challenges.

Would she find the freedom she craved, or would the shadow of her royal identity stretch across the ocean?  Only time would tell, but Elena was ready to step into the unknown and write her own story.

Chapter 2

Nathan

Nate’s teeth clenched as he read the text message from his father, a mix of resignation and irritation spiraling through him.  Their fragile relationship teetered precariously on the edge of a steep cliff after his past actions.

He furrowed his brow as he considered answering it, not certain what he would say.  But ignoring it would be worse.  Ignoring it could cause ripples he didn’t want to deal with.

His jaw worked overtime, pulsing as he read the message over and over again.  Today wasn’t the day he needed this message.

He rubbed at his chin, ready to bolt from the coffee shop for the nearest bar.  He slid his eyes closed before he opened them again and read the message.  How are you doing today?  If you need to talk about Chloe, I’m here.

That name felt like a punch to the gut, reopening a wound he’d desperately tried to close.  Chloe.  He’d never wanted to see that name again.  Never wanted to hear it or think of it.  He’d thought he’d hit rock bottom when his parents had set up the intervention, but he now felt like he could fall even further than waking up drunk in an alley.

He resisted the urge to type back that he was fine, which would likely trigger a call to assess how fine he really was, but he had no desire to answer truthfully.  He didn’t even know what the truth was.  He hated the woman.  But how was he doing?  Still torn up over what she had done and still reeling from the fallout of everything he’d done leading up to that to alienate his family.  A family that had come together when he’d truly needed them.

He finally typed a response.  Getting through the day.

No sooner had he sent it than a reply came back, pressing for details.  How exactly?

He hated this.  He hated being treated like a child, but he hadn’t earned much better.  He typed a message as the line in the coffee shop moved up.  I’m not drinking.

“Yet,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned to glance at how many people were still in front of him for a simple cup of coffee.

Five people waited to order.  His shoulders slumped as he shifted his weight, his agitation growing.  He needed a drink.  Just one to take the edge off.

He shoved his phone into his pocket as it chimed with the latest message from his father and spun on his heel.  As he took a step, he smashed into someone.  Liquid spattered on the floor, splashing onto his shoes as a cry sounded.

His jaw unhinged as he lifted his eyes to the woman he’d nearly run over.  She stared down at the smashed cup in her hand, a look of disbelief etched into her delicate features.  She flicked a lock of dark hair away from the stain growing on her blouse.

A surge of frustration gave way to curiosity.  Her dark hair contrasted sharply with her pale skin.

“Oh,” Nathan said as he tugged his lips back in a wince.  “Oh my gosh, I am sorry.  Oh, I’m really sorry.”

She fluttered her eyelashes as she glanced up at him, flicking her pinky at the spot.  “It’s quite all right,” she said in a crisp British accent.

“Here, let me help,” he said as he grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the counter next to them.

She did the same but he pressed his against her first, swiping down the front of her shirt with the napkins.

“Oh, no, really, I’ve got it.”  She waved a hand at him.

“No, no, I insist.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t see you there.  I just…I’m having a really bad day and–”

“No, really, I’ve got it,” she repeated.

He continued to dab at her blouse, soaking the thin brown napkins.

“Stop, stop,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Please stop.  You’re making it worse, you see?”

“Oh,” he answered, his features crinkling as he noted the now larger stain on the shirt.  “I am, aren’t I?”

She let out a half-chuckle.  “Yes, I don’t understand how you’re managing it, but you are actively making it worse.”

“I have a talent for that,” he said, a light laugh in his voice.  “Actively making things worse, that is.”

She flicked her green eyes up to him, a slight smile on her doll-like lips. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes before.  They were…captivating. “Well, best you stop dabbing at my blouse then.”

“Ah, yes,” he said with a nod as he wadded the napkins into a ball and tossed them in the garbage bin.  “Well, let me pay for the cleaning at least.”

“No,” she said as she continued to wipe at the liquid.  “That’s not necessary.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s really not necessary,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Uh, please.  I have to do something. I feel awful.”  He held a finger in the air before he pulled his blazer off and slid it around her shoulders.  “Here, take my jacket.”

She glanced at it before she flicked those sparkling emerald eyes back to his face.  “It’s really quite all right.  I don’t–”

“Please.  You’re soaked and–”

“It’s quite warm outside, though.  And if I take your blazer, I’ll need to return it, and–”

“Well, uh, we could meet.  I could take you to dinner.  As an apology.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

She cocked her head as she knitted her dark eyebrows.  “You mean, allow you to take me to a place where you’d be around cutlery?  I’m terrified to think of what may happen.  You may filet me like a fish.”

The playful smile on her features brought a grin to his face.  Any thoughts of a drink were replaced by the enchanting, warm feeling he got from her.  But while his heart fluttered, his mind warned him.  Don’t be too trusting.  You’ve been burned.But her playful banter was unexpectedly disarming.

“Well, uh, perhaps…a hot dog in the park.  No silverware.”  He grinned at her.

“A hot dog?” she asked.  “You mean from one of those little carts with the fellows wearing the caps?”

He chuckled at her.  “Yes, yes, that’s right.”

Her smile grew slightly as she nodded.  “All right, then.  If no cutlery is involved, I suppose I shall be quite safe.  When?”

“Uh, how is this evening?  Say five?”  He recalled a peaceful spot where he’d often found solace in the last year. “The vendor near the fountain in Mariner’s Park. That’ll give you enough time to change and have no further need for my blazer.”

She adjusted it around her shoulders as she nodded.  “All right.  Oh, uh, what is your typical condiment of choice?”

“Mustard.”  He furrowed his brow.  “Why?”

“I shall search for a yellow shirt in case you spatter it all over me.”

He bit his lower lip as he held back another smile.  “I see.  You got me on that one.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she said with a chuckle as she lifted a shoulder.

“I think I deserved it,” he answered.  “Anyway, I will…I’ll see you later.  And again, sorry…it’s been one of those days.”

“No problem.  See you later,” she answered with a smile.

As she spun away, he reached for her, catching her elbow.  “Oh, wait.  What’s your name?”

She twisted to face him again, pausing for a moment before she said, “Ellie.”

“Ellie,” he repeated, the smile returning to his face.  A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.  “I’m Nathan.  Nate.”

She offered him a half-smile.  “I will see you later, Nathan.”

He stared after her as she walked away, pushing her arms though his jacket sleeves.  The grin refused to leave his face.  He wondered if she’d come later.  He hoped she would, despite his consternation.

His mind returned to the warning his thoughts had given him earlier.  You’ve been burned.

But maybe this time he could be smarter.  Maybe he could vet her in some way.  Maybe…

His ringing phone tugged him back to reality as his mind wandered in the clouds.  He pulled the device from his pocket and glanced at the screen where his father's name was emblazoned. He swiped to answer it as he left the coffee shop behind, no longer needing the buzz the coffee would have given him.

“I’m fine,” he answered.

“Just checking,” his father said.  “You stopped answering your texts.  I know this day is probably going to be tough–”

“I’m fine.  Really.  I’m fine.”  The image of Ellie danced through his mind.  “I’m…actually better than fine.”

“Really?” his father’s deep voice asked, questioning.

“Really.  I’m doing okay.”  He had no urge to drink, no sinking thoughts, no dread.  His heart, still guarded, dared to hope for the first time in a year.  He hoped it wasn’t false.

“Okay,” his father answered.  “Well, if that changes, you know–”

“Where to reach you, yeah,” he said as he skirted around a few people on the sidewalk.  “And where to find a meeting if I need one.”

“Do you need one?”

“No, Dad.  I’m not drinking. I don’t have the urge to drink.”  For one of the first times in the past year, he didn’t.  He bypassed the bar he’d planned to stop at and continued on to his office at GenoTech, his father’s biotech company.

He wandered past the helix logo and past the glass offices toward his corner office at the back.  With his background in pharmacology, he’d taken a lead role at his father’s company.  Although it wasn’t only his background that had given that to him.

He shook off the bad memories of the war with his brother that had nearly cost him his family and clicked into his emails.

“Hey,” his father’s voice said.

Nate glanced up to find his father leaning against the door jamb.  He flicked his gaze back to his screen.  “Checking in person.”

“Maybe,” his father said as he strode inside and sank into a chair across from Nate.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Good.  Melinda said you ran out of here and I just…wanted to check.”

“Yeah, I had some bad memories of today and just needed a minute.  I was going to grab coffee, but the line was too long.  I came back.”

His father narrowed his light eyes at him.  “No stops at the bar?”

Nate grabbed a folder and tossed it into his outbox folder.  “I have not been drinking.”

“That’s really…excellent, Nate.  None of us would blame you, though, if you had a slip.”

“I didn’t slip,” he said, his jaw tightening.

He knew his father had every right to ask.  He’d hit rock bottom once.  They wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do it again.  He should be glad they cared after what he’d done to his brother.  Most families would have cut him off.  But not the Kingsleys.  With Charles Kingsley leading the family, they’d rallied around him, sometimes being more supportive than he wanted.

“Okay, son,” the man said.  “Well, again, that’s excellent.  This is…a real step forward for you, Nate.  A few months ago…”

“I would have been six shots deep just at the mention of her name, I know.”

His father bobbed his head up and down.  “She was the problem, Nate.  Not you.”

“That time,” Nate murmured.

“Put her out of your mind, son.”

He bobbed his head up and down.  “Right.  Now, I’d like to do that with some work.  We’re close on the age slowing project, I know it.”

His father stared at him, balancing his face against his thumb and forefinger.  “Well, I’ll leave you to it.  See you at dinner?”

“No,” Nate said with a shake of his head.

His father lifted his graying eyebrows toward his salt-and-pepper hairline.

“I’m meeting a client,” he lied.  He hated lying after the last few years, but he didn’t want to tell anyone about the woman who had enchanted him.  He didn’t need a lecture on jumping in before he was ready—especially if she turned out to be nothing more than a tiny blip on the radar of his life.

He opened a research report but found himself unable to concentrate.  Sparkling green eyes danced through his mind along with that sweet smile.  He reminded himself not to rush into things.

He couldn’t tell her who he was.  He’d done that before.  With Chloe.  Only he’d found out that she wasn’t in love with him like she’d said.  She’d manipulated him, played the game, cleared the board, and stood as the winner.

She’d said all the right things, smiled when she should have, pouted at the right moments, but hindsight had shown him that her eyes only lit up when he’d handed her an expensive gift, not when she’d seen him.  When he’d needed support, she’d withheld it.

She used him, trying to desperately get a chunk of the Kingsley money.  It had only been when he’d walked in on her with another man that the truth had come crashing down around him.

And suddenly, trust became something difficult to believe in.

He shoved the memory away, refusing to let her ruin this day for him.  Ellie would be different, he told himself.  Because he’d made certain she had no idea he was an heir to a fortune.  She couldn’t want money she didn’t know existed.

And that way he’d guard his heart.  At least he hoped so.  Deep down, the scars of his past whispered warnings he couldn’t entirely ignore.  So, as forward as he looked to the evening, apprehension tightened his shoulders, warning him not to get his hopes up.

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Settle in by the fire and listen as the story unfolds, just as it might on a quiet evening in Eldoria.

Click here to listen to Nate and Elena's meet cute!

Eldoria was inspired by the elegance and ceremony of the ballroom — particularly the grand march and sweeping romance of My Fair Lady.

Featured pieces:

• The Transylvanian March
• Embassy Waltz

Listen to them here!

Welcome to Eldoria — a storybook world of candlelit ballrooms, quiet confidences, and moments that linger long after the music fades.

Wander freely. Each room holds a piece of the story — some whispered, some sung, some meant only for those who step inside.

Some moments feel suspended in time — laughter circling back on itself, lights blurring into something magical.

Listen as the carousel turns, and a first date becomes something more.