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A knock on Tor's apartment door startled him out of his immersion in graduate level economic theory.
He lived in a secure building not too far from Harvard, where he was studying for his MBA. Not merely a building with a buzzer system, but one that catered to the world's wealthy and had a doorman and security guards on duty twenty-four-seven.
He had his own security naturally, living in the apartment next to his.
All of which, meant that whoever was on the other side of that knock had to be on the list of approved visitors, both for the building and his own security staff.
As far as Tor knew, none of his family were in America, much less Boston, and Else was in a study group for her class on sustainable business models.
The knock sounded again and Tor stood to answer it, still not sure who it could be.
He looked out through the peephole and sucked in a breath of shock.
Blythe Whitney-Jones stood there looking both impatient and worried.
If his first thought was maybe she was there to take up where they'd left off at Christmas, he squashed it fast. No doubt she had other reasons far more prosaic for coming to his condo. Though what she was doing in Boston, he had no idea. She'd been hiking through the Rockies the last time he checked in with her Vlog.
Which admittedly had been yesterday.
So, what was she doing here? Was something wrong with Janne? Why would his family send Blythe to tell him about it?
He swung the door open. "Miss Whitney-Jones, this is a surprise."
"Hi, Tor—Your Highness."
"Come in." Tor'd had courtesy drilled into him from infancy, but what he really wanted to do was ask why she was there and if his family were all okay.
However, the lessons of a lifetime could not be dismissed and he stepped back to allow her entrance.
When he'd shut the door and led her to the living room, he asked? "Would you like something to drink?"
She was dressed casually in some classic 90s chic. As a prince, Tor was required to know a little about a lot of topics. Current trends in fashion included.
While he took a full load of credits for graduate school, he continued to be tutored for his royal role in things ranging from politics to fashion.
Blythe's calf length crocheted vest over grey sleeveless top and matching narrow legged slacks managed to enhance rather than hide her curves.
Her mouth twisted in a not-quite-there smile as she stepped into his apartment. "Sure."
He went into the kitchen and found a can of her favorite seltzer water. Why he instructed his staff to buy that brand, he wasn't going to contemplate.
She was sitting in a chair by his gas fireplace when he returned to the living room, the seltzer poured into a glass with ice.
He handed her the fizzing beverage and she took it with a murmured thanks.
"Nice place," she commented.
Tor shrugged. "It serves its purpose."
Holger had purchased the luxury condo for Tor's use while he was in graduate school and would sell it and the furnishings at a profit when Tor graduated.
It was not a home, just an investment.
"I would have loved to have a place this nice when I was in school."
"You didn't live in penury," he replied mildly.
She might not have the warmest relationship with her parents, but Blythe had never had to do the starving student gig.
