If there’s one thing I can’t deny, it’s that Alec touches me like no man ever has, and I’m sure no man ever will.

Literally.

His hands are God’s gift to humanity.

If all we had to do for eternity was touch each other, lick each other, fuck each other, we would get along perfectly.

Unfortunately, some of those other issues are still lingering when I wake up the next morning, tangled under the sheets with Alec.

While he’s still asleep, I take the opportunity to stare at him, his torso rising from underneath the sheets, his chest rising and falling with each breath, every one of his ab muscles chiseled and defined.

How does he stay in such good shape? I wonder absently. He never seems to have time for anything else. Even meals are a rushed affair, unless they’re for formal receptions, and then they take forever.

I’m debating whether to run my fingers over the ridges of his abs and risk waking him up when he opens his eyes and looks at me, the brilliant green color of his orbs taking my breath away.

“Hi,” he says, and smiles, stretching his arms above his head, resembling a Greek god.

“Hi,” I say, but I can’t replicate his smile.

“What is it?” His face is instantly clouded with concern. “You didn’t like last night?” Alec tries to make light of things with a low, sultry voice. “You like it a little rougher, don’t you? Well, you’re in luck. I can do that.”

I can’t help but crack a little smile, but it quickly fades away. “It’s not that.”

“Then tell me what it is,” he says, gathering my hair back from my face and twisting it around in his hand, then letting it gently fall against the bare skin of my shoulder.

The solution hits me like a lightning bolt. It’s not Alec’s fault that I feel at loose ends. What I need to do is figure out a way for me to have some time of my own, to myself, where I can do as I please.

I never thought I’d say it, but a tiny part of me misses my job at Colton-Hayes.

It’s true that it did contribute to my general dissatisfaction with my life situation in New York City, but at least it provided structure to my days. Life at Sainthall Palace gives me structure, too, but the wrong kind—it’s never of my own choosing. Maybe if I could work a few days somewhere in Sainthall, I would have the energy to fulfill my duties here.

That would strike a wonderful balance.

As I think the idea over, a smile spreads across my face.

“What are you thinking, my lady Jessica?” Alec says, a questioning smile on his lips.

“I’d like to get a job.”

He cocks his head and looks at me with a strange expression, as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m joking. “A job?”

“Yes. I’d like to get a job somewhere in Sainthall. Maybe at one of the shops close to the palace? I was thinking if I could spend a few hours a week working away from here, it would let me take a little bit of a mental break from all the—.”

I break off when I realize Alec is shaking his head and stifling laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I say, the smile dying from my face.

“You can’t get a job. That’s an absurd idea.”

I’m immediately on the defensive. “It’s not an absurd idea. I had a job for years before I met you.”

“No, I’m saying, you’re not allowed to have a job while you’re here. Guests of the royal household aren’t permitted to work—by law.”

“What? Why?”

Alec waves his hand as though the reason doesn’t matter. “It has to do with corruption and influence. When the country was founded, King Edward wanted to be sure that anyone who was living and working closely with the king or queen wouldn’t be susceptible to being influenced by private businesses.”

“I don’t have any sway over you or your father. I practically never see you.”

“You have plenty to do here, anyway. You don’t need to work in the city.”

Anger forms a dagger in my chest. “Oh, is that right? You expect me to sit around all day attending etiquette seminars and smiling at cameras and waiting for you to come around whenever you have a spare second you can waste on me?”

Alec’s eyes flash with his own fury. “What, is living in a palace not good enough for you? Wait, I understand it—back in the United States, you got a front-row seat to watch your rich friends play their games. Now that you’re feeling some of the responsibility that goes with it, you’re going to complain. Ceaselessly.”

“That’s not fair,” I spit, tossing the sheets back and rising out of bed. I’m not going to have this kind of argument while I’m naked and vulnerable. I pull the purple robe off the floor and shrug it over my shoulders, wishing I’d had time to pack more of my own things so I wouldn’t need to rely so completely on Alec.

“Isn’t it?” he says, his tone only slightly softer. “You seem to have a problem with the way things are here.” Alec sits up against the pillows and looks away toward the dresser, his eyes far away for a moment.

I take a deep breath in, trying to quell my anger. Emotions are obviously running too high. This isn’t who we are. I know it’s not. More than that, I love him. Even when I’m pissed, I love him.

I open my mouth to tell him that, to ask if we can start this conversation over from the beginning, when he looks at me and deals the fatal blow.

“Maybe it would be best if you went back to New York for a while.”