Page 20 of Protecting his Secrets

“You truly do have a talent. Your prose is eloquent and not at all flowery, which I’ve found in many reporters. Is the role you’re in the one you envisioned for yourself?”

Nick bit his lip at Freddie’s choice of words.

Malachi’s cheeks reddened further. “Not in so many words, no. Unfortunately, not everyone gets to have their first choice of employers.”

It was the second time Malachi had implied he wasn’t doing the job by choice, but if that was the case, why wasn’t he leaving?

“Such a truthful statement. As I was saying, this space is used primarily for our family now. It’s big enough to house us all, and we don’t have to worry about anyone finding out we weren’t the prim and proper royals weshouldbe.”

Why hadn’t Brett given Prince Freddie his job because his words, while fairly benign and truthful, were on the spotwith making a point about Malachi’s content? No matter how powerful his prose was, his words were hurtful all the same.

“Definitely, Your Highness. Not everyone needs to know your secrets.”

“Never has a truer word been spoken,” Freddie said with a smile.

Nick silently tagged on, “by you,” but it wouldn’t do any use adding it out loud.

“Are you attending the dinner later, Your Highness?” Malachi asked.

Freddie shook his head. “I have a prior engagement, but I’m sure my father will be a wonderful companion.”

Malachi smiled. “I’m looking forward to talking with him some more.”

“Well, I must be getting back to Damon. He’ll be wondering where the popcorn is.”

“Thank you for your time, Your Highness,” Malachi said.

Nick moved closer to the prince and lowered his voice. “Your Highness, please consider bringing your guards the next time you want to talk to him. I am only one person and can only do so much.”

Freddie’s mouth curved. “He won’t harm us physically, Nick. He’s got too much to lose.”

Nick frowned. “What do you mean?”

Freddie shook his head, glancing over Nick’s shoulder to Malachi. “He won’t hurt us, Nick. Maybe check your preconceived notions at the door and see him as a person rather than a reporter first.”

With that not-so-subtle reprimand, Freddie left, and Nick saw Locke as the door opened. Whether she’d arrived with Freddie or after him, he wasn’t sure, but either way, his tension lowered slightly, knowing he had some backup should he have needed it.

Three hours later, they were both dressed in suits and headed to the restaurant the king was opening. There would be a select few—King Andrew and Prince Consort Kean, food critics and celebrities—in attendance, so security was slightly easier, especially with Landon, Colt, Viola and Emmy joining him, and the several guards the celebrities brought.

After the official opening ceremony, short and sweet that it was, he followed them to their table and then stepped away, pausing when the king said his name.

“Your Majesty?”

“Please join us for dinner tonight, Nick.”

Nick gaped, but he shook his head slightly. “Thank you for the offer, Your Majesty, but I have to decline. I am needed as part of the security team tonight.”

Andrew sighed but nodded. “I won’t get a different answer from you, will I?”

Nick smiled. “No, Your Majesty.”

“One of these days…”

Nick cleared his throat instead of laughing at the king’s veiled attempt to discourage the use of his title and call him Andrew and headed to his perch near the bathrooms. It was one of the few places Malachi would go if he was to leave the table, and he wanted to be close in case he got any stupid ideas. Malachi had flushed cheeks and laughed several times throughout dinner. Andrew and Kean joined in with the humour. At one point, Nick witnessed Kean’s hand covering his mouth just as he’d taken a sip of his drink, his shoulders bouncing with laughter. What had been so funny? The partners were careful with their affection, not too much, but not too little, and Malachi had keen eyes, which seemed to take everything in despite the flowing alcohol he seemed to drink.

When Malachi rose, Nick tensed until he was away from the tables and heading his way. He was pale and a little unsteady on his legs, but his gaze never wavered.

“Maybe ease up on the alcohol,” Nick murmured as Malachi pushed the bathroom door open.

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