Page 52 of His Royal Matchmaker

The thought of him with someone else makes my skin feel too tight, like I might burst out of it. But I can’t match him with myself either. I’m not royalty. I’m not politically connected. I’m not on any of the lists his mother approved. And most importantly, I’m the person being paid to find him someone else. The whole situation is beyond unprofessional.

My phone rings, and Nova’s face lights up my screen. My best friend’s timing has always been uncanny, and I answer immediately.

“I’m having an ethical crisis,” I announce before she can even say hello.

“Hi to you too,” she laughs. “What kind of ethical crisis are we talking? Did you eat the last chocolate in the fancy royal box without offering it to the queen?”

“If by chocolate, you mean the prince, and if by eating you meant?—”

She gasps. “You slept with him?!”

“Kissed him.” I close my eyes and groan. “So not as bad… right?”

“That’s even worse! That’s true romance!” Nova’s voice rises an octave. “Emily Neale, you kissed the prince?Theprince? The guy whose future wife you’re supposed to be picking out?”

I press my fingers against my temples. “Yes, that prince. In Paris. On a balcony. With the Eiffel Tower lit up in the background. It was like something out of a movie, Nova. And I’m notpicking outhis wife. I’m helping him meet women.”

“Not when you’re busy shoving your tongue down his throat, you’re not.”

“Nova,” I groan.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Seriously… what were you thinking?”

“Iwasn’tthinking! That’s the problem.” I pace the room, nibbling at my thumbnail. “We were at this gala, and someone mistook us for a couple… and then I was out on the balcony, and he came out… And then we were kissing, and it was amazing, and then I panicked and haven’t really spoken to him since.”

“Ah, the classic kiss-and-avoid,” she says knowingly. “And now?”

“And now I’m supposed to meet with him and his mother tomorrow to see how his most recent round of dates are going.”I dig my fingers into my scalp, but it does nothing to stop the growing headache. “I can’t do this, Nova. I can’t sit across from him and talk about how Lady What’s-Her-Face would make an excellent princess when all I can think about is how it felt when he touched me.”

“Oh, honey.” Her voice softens. “You’ve really got it bad.”

“I know,” I groan. “And it’s not just physical attraction. I genuinely like him, Nova. He’s dedicated and thoughtful and takes his responsibilities so seriously, and the way we talk… I don’t know. It’s different. Challenging, like we’re sparring. And when he talks about Marzieu, his whole face lights up. He wants to do right by his people.”

“So what are you going to do?”

I flop onto the stack of pillows on my huge bed. “I don’t know. I could tell Queen Julia I can’t complete the job, but if word got out, it would make me look terrible. Or I could just… do my job. Present the candidates. Watch him choose someone else. Maybe even plan their royal wedding.”

It’s a joke, but my voice cracks on those last words, and I blink back unexpected tears.

“Okay, well, what if I told you there might be a third option?” she says, her tone shifting to what I recognize as her “business voice.”

“What kind of third option?”

“The kind that comes with its own makeup team and primetime slot.” She pauses dramatically. “Elliot Ridge called me yesterday.”

I sit up straight. “TheElliot Ridge? The producer who madeLove in the Spotlight?”

“The very same. He’s developing a new dating show, and he wants a professional matchmaker to host it. Not just any professional matchmaker — he specifically asked for you.”

My mind races, trying to process this information. “Me? To host a TV show? Nova, I work behind the scenes. I’m not a TV personality.”

“That’s exactly why he wants you,” she counters. “He’s tired of the fake drama and scripted nonsense. He wants someone authentic who really knows how to create lasting matches. He’s seen your success rate. He called you, and I quote, ‘The real deal in a field full of charlatans.’”

Despite everything, a small thrill runs through me. Being recognized for my work by someone like Elliot Ridge is no small thing. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him you’re currently working with a high-profile client who requires your complete attention and discretion. He was disappointed but said the opportunity would still be there when you finish your current contract. The thing is, Em, they want to start production next week — ideally.”

“Next week?” I echo.

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