Page 4 of Prince She Shouldn't Crave
His image and his ‘vibe’ were kind of the same thing, in her opinion anyhow, but she wasn’t about to disagree with him.
‘My next job was more intentional.’ A florist and gift shop supporting local artisans from Isolobello. Whilst working in the gift shop there, Lena had suggested a bigger social media presence. Posting pictures of the glorious blooms. Featuring the work of various creators. ‘Through my efforts, their business became extremely popular and drew the attention of your sister, who’d come into the storebecauseshe’d seen my posts on social media showcasing my employer’s values in supporting lesser-known artists.’
‘I believe the person you’re meaning to refer to, Ms Rosetti, isPrincess Priscilla.’
‘Of course, Your Highness.’
Heat crept up her neck, prickling where the tag of her loathsome black jacket scratched her skin. She tugged at the collar, but that didn’t seem to help much. Lena found it hard to think of Prince Gabriel’s sister as a princess.Cilla, as she’d demanded to be called within five minutes of meeting Lena, didn’t care one bit about royal titles. They’d quickly struck up an easy kind of friendship. When Lena decided it was time to move on from her job in the florist’s, Cilla had suggested a role in Isolobello’s palace as a junior in their social media and PR department.
‘Would you care to remove your jacket, Ms Rosetti?’ Prince Gabriel asked. His voice deep and rich like the hot chocolate she loved to drink as a treat when something had gone well. ‘Whilst this is a professional workplace, they’re not always required.’
She didn’t believe him. This man looked so tightly buttoned up she’d almost bet that he’d have to be cut out of his suit each evening. Then, each morning, a new one would be stitched right back onto his fine,finebody.
Fine body? Where hadthatthought come from?
‘Thank you, n-no. I—I’m quite comfortable.’
She was anything but. And although she wanted to accept his invitation and tear off her jacket with every fibre of her existence, she couldn’t. On the way to the palace, she’d had a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would give her a bit of a boost. She should have known that wearing a white shirt was an invitation to spill something on it. If she took off her jacket now, His Royal Highness would see a good portion of her shirt indelibly stained, because of her clumsiness. Something her mother always complained about.
‘You’re as elegant as a newborn donkey. Glide, Lena. Glide like a swan.’
Lena bet her mother had never seen a newborn donkey. Yet she shouldn’t be thinking about spilled coffee or stuttering or blushing. She should be answering his questions. This job was a stepping stone to securing her family’s future. To even bigger, better things.
Lena took a steadying breath. She knew how to do this. She’d prepared for it, the possible questions. The answers she needed to give.
‘Earlier, sir, you pointed out my lack of university qualifications. I respect a formal education.’ More than respected it, she’d craved it, had seen it as a way to avoid what had befallen her beautiful, unqualified mother. Her parents hadn’t seen the point of a degree in PR and marketing, suggesting something like art history which Lena had no interest in. But they’d finally capitulated after she simply applied to her university of choice and been accepted, even if she had started her degree far later than her peers. When Lena had been forced to give up her own studies after her father had died, it had been a crushing sacrifice. ‘However, the job you’re asking me to do requires creativity, and a deep understanding of the audience you’re trying to connect with. As I assess the role, Iamthe audience. You’re trying to connect with someone likeme.’
Prince Gabriel cocked his head. Narrowed his gaze. She felt skewered to the spot. Rather like a butterfly pinned to a board by an icicle.
‘Am I, Ms Rosetti?’
Lena froze. Did she really say that? Him,connectingwith her? What was she thinking? The truth was, not much at all. Everything about him seemed so intentional and planned that he discombobulated her. His frigid blue tie matching icy blue eyes that the Montroy family were famed for. His shirt, whitelike hers, but unmarred by coffee. Impeccably pressed. Not a wrinkle to be seen. In fact, no wrinkle woulddare. He was so perfect she was terrified that if she got too close her clumsiness would overwhelm her and she’d somehow manage to spill something on him, like the untouched mug that was sitting on his desk.
Yet if she allowed herself to be distracted by all of this—all of him—she’d fail, then where would she be left? She didn’t want a relationship like her mother had had, or a marriage to some rich man who sought her out because of her age, her looks and—if they found out—her cursed virginity.
Lena shuddered and pulled herself together.
‘That’s what your brief said. That you’re looking at connecting with younger people and I’m young—’
‘Howyoung?’
‘The demographic your job description said you wanted to target is eighteen to twenty-five and I’m twenty-three. I’m at the upper end.’
‘And how do you suppose I’m to…connect? You’ve given me no answers, only more questions as to why you’re better than any other potential candidate for the role.’
Lena sat up a bit straighter. Whatever this man thought or said, she wasgoodat what she did. And she’d been working informally and then formally in this type of role since her first job. In her favour, Lena also knew what it was like working for royalty. Sure, getting the job with Isolobello’s royal family had been more luck rather than planning. As for this job, Cilla had said her brotherneededsomeone like Lena. And she’d happily move to Halrovia permanently if it meant a step up in responsibility and income.
‘You might recall the announcement of Prince Caspar’s engagement. The celebration weekend. Isolobello’s Crown Prince finally set to marry.’
Prince Gabriel sat back in his seat, a little more relaxed. The corner of his perfect mouth curling in what threatened to be a smile but never quite made it. She wanted to see him smile and dreaded it all the same, because if he smiled, every available and inclined woman on the planet would become utterly infatuated with him. Give him one shred of warmth and people wouldn’t be able to help themselves.
She didn’t know why that thought made acid churn in her gut.
‘I do recall, given, as you so eloquently put it before, Prince Caspar’s fiancée ismy sister.’
She knew then that he was trying to be…princely. Lena’s job was to stop him hiding behind his title and start showing the world Gabriel Montroy, even though it was clear that he wasn’t at all keen on the idea.
‘My colleagues wanted a more traditional approach. A few formal engagement photos. Talk of the joining of two long-term allies. I thought the moment was more important than that—’
