AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER ONE
MATTEODELA CRUZ, King of Monte Blanco, sovereign leader of all he surveyed, from the deep green trees to the white mountains in the distance, strode into his well-appointed office in the very highest tower of the Monte Blancan palace, where he found his assistant, just as he had expected to find her: sitting at her desk, tapping away on her laptop.
She had four paper planners laid out in front of her, and pens of different colors sitting on each one. She was neat and orderly, it was true, but when she worked, she kept all resources handily at her fingertips.
Livia.
No last name, as she had no family. She was simply Livia. Though, he often called her by the preferred nickname. Mouse. He didn’t know if she preferred it, but when it came right down to it, it didn’t matter.
Hepreferred it.
He did not, though, call her Mouse for the reasons his brother, Prince Javier, supposed. It was not because she was gray or small. Not because she was timid or plain. No, he called her that because as king, he was a lion.
And there were times when he felt as if she, with all her small delicacy, had removed a thorn from his paw when she had come into his life.
A stunning admission for a man such as himself to make, it was true. But if he were honest, and he was, bracingly so, he had been told many times, then he had to admit that he had most certainly changed Livia’s life for the best as well. His mouse had been utterly and completely without resources when he had found her, a thin, pale guttersnipe who had been weighing in on the brink of starvation when he had discovered her.
It had been just after the death of his father, and he, the newly crowned king, had been taking in the sights of Monte Blanco, a country in much need of rehabilitation after being beneath the iron fist of a cruel dictator.
That was when he had seen her in the snow. Huddled in an alleyway and shivering.
He had picked her up and brought her into the limousine. And she had regarded him with wide, wary eyes. He couldn’t blame her. It was clear that the world had not been kind to the shivering little thing he had brought inside his car.
But he had purposed, then and there, that he would be.
She was a symbol.
A symbol of the reform that he planned to bring to Monte Blanco. He had given her work at the palace, after giving her a place to sleep and making sure that she’d been given adequate food. But he had never found it... Well, she didn’t have family. And he had not wanted to install her in the servants’ quarters on the property. She had seemed too vulnerable to him at the time. Instead, he had given her a bedroom in the palace, which was highly unusual. He had noticed that she had an eye for organization, because he was very good at recognizing the talents of other people in implementing them to his greatest advantage. And that was when he had hit upon the idea of her being his assistant.
Over the years she had become a great deal more than that.
When his father had died, Matteo had expelled each and every advisor that had ever been in the old man’s ear from ever setting foot in the palace again. He had started anew.
And so, Livia had become his assistant, his majordomo, his advisor, all rolled into one.
Livia was... Quite simply his. In every way.
His assistant.
His mouse.
And after today, very soon to be something else.
“Livia,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I am exactly where I am always at this time of day, Your Majesty, unless we are off at another scheduled engagement, which you know we are not.”
“True,” he said. “I have something to discuss with you.”
“Go on,” she said, without looking up from her computer.
Her delicate features were placid, a round pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her light brown hair was piled atop her head, wispy strands escaping around her face. She had such fine little features. Very large eyes with pale spiky-tipped lashes hiding behind those glasses. A nose that pointed upward with decisiveness.
Her mouth was unique. Her upper lip larger than her lower, curving dramatically upward toward the center before sloping down at the edges, giving her a permanent pout. Her hands were delicate, finely honed, and efficient as they moved over the keys.
And if her strange sort of beauty had bewitched him at times over the years, he’d become good at ignoring it. For he was a king. And she was...
Her.
