Page 17 of Prince She Shouldn't Crave
‘Yes, sir?’
Say my name.It was unfeasible. Yet he didn’t know why he so badly wanted to hear it. Like it was some inevitability.
‘If anyone offers you employment, tell me. I was serious yesterday at the palace.’
Her eyes opened wide. ‘I—I…of course. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I’ve only just begun.’
He nodded as she walked to a group, and they shuffled together as she held up her phone. Smiled for her. He marvelled at her openness, how she brought out the best in people.
How, in many ways, he felt as though he’d only just begun, himself.
It was clear that the breakfast was a success. When Lena had mentioned the plan, Prince Gabriel’s private secretary hadimmediately jumped on the idea. She liked that she could contribute in a way that was more than photographs and some words on a social media site. She was beginning to feel as if she was part of a little team.
She took some more pictures, trying to ignore the prickling of awareness of her employer’s presence. She’d only ever seen him in a suit and he’d joked he might wear one running, yet today he was in workout gear. It was just a T-shirt, shorts, trainers. Yet she was drawn to keep looking at him. The way that T-shirt moulded his body. Showing his biceps. His broad shoulders. The shorts, not tight, but still framing his backside. The sheen of perspiration on his skin. Had she not been used to keeping a tight rein on her emotions she might have swooned. There was a reason he’d hit the ‘hottest men in Europe’ lists more than once, though they’d always noted how remote he seemed, which tended to be a factor running against him most of the time.
Right now, he topped every one of her personal lists. Professional, considerate, attentive, caring, handsome.Sohandsome. He laughed at something someone said, and all of him lit up. How could anyone call him cold? Surely others could see what she could? Yet she needed to stop looking. It had become like some obsession. Instead of constantly tracking him whilst he ate or talked to his guests, she checked media alerts on her phone.
Cold No More: Crown Prince Melts Hearts as He Bonds with Toddler Godson
The headlines looked positive. Talk of his diplomacy. Applauding him showing his softer side. She was particularly proud of her photograph. Gabe, with a soft expression on his face. A warm smile, pointing out things in the book. Carl, looking on, his back to the camera. His parents out of focus in the background, but you could still tell there was an indulgent kind of expression on their blurred faces.
A slide of warmth slipped through her veins. She was glad she’d been able to show how genuine it was, because it hadn’t been an act, it had been real. Authentic. A tender moment that more people needed to see he was capable of.
She was tempted to look over at him once more, before this morning’s event ended and he wrapped himself in the confines of a suit again. She guessed it was his uniform of sorts. His shield. His protection. Much like her sombre professional wardrobe, which she’d decided to cast away on a whim this morning because it was a beautiful day and…she really didn’t know. She supposed it was because she wasn’t out in public. She didn’t have to stay in the background so as not to outshine her employer. Even so, she’d got a little thrill putting on the dress and had fleetingly wondered whether he’d liked it when he first saw her. Lena tried to ignore what Gabe might think of her outfit, and instead concentrated on his social media pages.
She wished she could be analytical about it all, but she always got a bit of a buzz if something she posted did well. Underneath the photograph with him and his godson, there were so many comments.
This is the sweetest!
Such a gorgeous photo.
All reflecting the majority of the news headlines, apart from some of those in Halrovia, which still tried to put a negative spin on the post. Criticising the money spent only to show these ‘homely’ moments. She gritted her teeth at the unfairness of it, on Gabriel’s behalf.
Lena grabbed a cup of coffee and took herself to a secluded part of the terrace in the shade and continued scrolling down. There were still a few people muttering about a republic but there weren’t too many grinches today, because who couldn’thelp but love a picture of Gabriel being a doting godfather? The posts in response were emojis. Smiles, hearts.Flames.Glancing over at him standing there with his broad shoulders, narrow waist and strong thighs, she got it. She really did. Flames were apt. If the people who’d posted that could see what she saw right now, they’d want to fan themselves as much as she wanted to. They’d probably need a moment to catch their breath too, because it was as if she’d been on the run, not him, the way she couldn’t catch any air.
Then there were the other posts that sent a spike of something hot and potent through her, which wasn’t about attraction. If Gabriel were her boyfriend, she’d be sure the sensation was one of jealousy. It had to just be indignation on his behalf, because she didn’t like being objectified, so why should he? Talk of ovaries exploding. Things like,This picture made my heart melt, and my panties too.Or,Forget the book. Can I get a prince like you for my birthday?
She tried not to judge. Who wouldn’t want a prince for their birthday? Although she wasn’t sure why she was thinking that, since she’d never wanted a prince before. She had no romanticism left in her, not after her parents. Still, the comments made her feel something prickly she couldn’t explain, so she didn’t try. She just kept reading. The sweet ones and the steamy. Unable to explain the roller coaster of her emotions as she viewed them.
‘Lena.’
Gabe’s voice jolted her out of her reverie. She whipped round, heel catching on the sandstone paving of the patio, hand jerking and an arc of coffee flying as Gabriel caught her, and they ended in a complicated tangle, with her somehow in his arms and him with a splat of coffee across his shirt.
He looked down at her for a heated heartbeat. Apart from the coffee she’d just spilled all over him, he smelled like the seatoday, clean, salty, with an undertone. Something woodsy. It was complex. Inviting. A scent she wanted to snuggle into and stay, not moving from his strong embrace, with him looking down on her as if she could somehow answer the secrets of the universe…till she realised where she was. In her employer’s arms, at an official function in front of a crowd of business people. She began to wriggle free.
‘Are you all right, Ms Rosetti?’
His voice sounded somehow deeper, gravelly. Except she couldn’t help notice that he was back to being formal. Putting her in her place.
‘Yes, of course. The heels. I shouldn’t have worn them out here. Silly me. I’m as clumsy as a newborn donkey sometimes.’ Her mother’s taunt was useful right now.
‘Have you ever seen a newborn donkey before?’
‘Well, no…’ What could she do? What could she say? Her heart pounded a sickening rhythm. She’d made a fool of herself, of him, in front of all his guests. Not at all demure. She tried to shut down her mother’s voice ‘But, Your Highness. Your shirt!’
She untangled herself from him, grabbed a bundle of napkins and began patting away at his chest. Trying to mop up the coffee ruining the fabric of his tee. Making it stick to what she could see were the impressive muscles underneath.
The heat roared into her cheeks.
