She was smart. I had to give her that. I knew she would be caught off guard by me showing up at her parents’ house, but I hadn’t expected to actually enjoy the visit. Her parents were the quintessential hard-working English family, and it was obvious to me that they all really cared for each other. Rose was also pretty damn embarrassed, and I idly made a note that I would have to make it up to her.

Still, I thought as I took the last bite of a wholesome rhubarb crumble, I couldn’t imagine having this type of dinner at my father’s residence. There had never been this kind of ribbing between our relatives. Dinner was a more sombre affair, where my stepmother dominated the conversation. She would drone on and on about whatever was bothering her, not leaving much time for anyone else to get a word in. Sitting at that table had been some of the most uncomfortable times in my life, and maybe that was one of the reasons I had acted out so much. When my mum was alive, our dinners had consisted of just us two eating together. I could remember her gentle laugh as I told her about my day, and just like it was yesterday I remembered the familiar smells of my favourite—and what would be considered humble by the palace’s standards—meals coming from our kitchen. This sudden bout of nostalgia, combined with the friendly banter at this family’s table, made me realise how much I’d missed those things.

“Well,” Mrs. Mathis said, pushing her chair back from the table. “I guess we need to get this cleaned up.”

“Sit, Mum,” Rose said, waving her mum back into the seat. “Let me clean it up tonight.”

“Sorry to eat and run, Mum, but I have to go. I have a ton of accounting and stock orders to catch up with,” Harriet said. As she pushed her chair back from the table, she raised her eyebrows at me, then glanced at her sister and back again. “It was nice to meet you, Your Highness,” Harriet said and nodded.

“Pleasure was all mine, but really I wish you’d all just call me Edward.”

“Nonsense,” replied their mother. “I’ll walk you out, Harriet. I wanted to ask you about, er, that book. Yes, that’s right, the book for next week’s book club,” Mrs. Mathis continued and rose from the table. I could tell what she was doing, hoping perhaps to give me and her other daughter some time to talk, but Rose had already started to occupy herself by gathering the dishes in a small pile. She scowled at me when I stood and reached for the heavy sauce pot before she could.

“You don’t have to help,” she said in a low voice. “Why don’t you just leave while my mum is occupied? You’ve had your fun slumming it… you can go now.”

“I was a dinner crasher,” I countered, and laid my claim upon the pot. “I can at least help clean up.” Besides, I still hadn’t talked to her about the real reason I had come… if only she’d drop the wall she’d built up around her, I could make her see I wasn’t a threat. She sniffed and picked up the plates, leaving me to follow her into the small kitchen. I set the pot on the counter as Rose started the water in the sink, plugging the drain to allow it to fill.

“Seriously. Why are you here?” she asked softly, her voice barely above the sound of the water. “And don’t say for my mum’s spaghetti, or I will deck you where you stand. And I’m not going to go public with the photo I took…”

“I need your help,” I said, running a hand roughly through my hair.

“So you have already said. Want to be a little clearer?” she responded, turning her eyes on me. Damn, they were unusual; one a brilliant pale blue while the other was a pale green. I’d never seen something so amazing that up-close and personal, and it made me want to continue to stare into her eyes for the longest time. Looking at her, I took in her curly dark hair, her nicely rounded face and the way her lips twitched with impatience as she waited for my response. While her features weren’t over the top smoking, she was still gorgeous.

Figuring I would let her stew just a little longer, I slid my gaze down her front, taking in the t-shirt that clung to her impressive rack. Over and down the slight curve of her belly to the point where her jeans started. The flare of her hips made my mouth dry. I knew I’d gone over the appropriate time allotted that one could stare at a woman’s body without being reprimanded, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to feel those curves under my hands. Shit.

Now I was getting hard thinking about popping that top button of her jeans and pressing up against her.

Clearing my throat, I willed my excitement away and tried to concentrate on her face, seeing the irritation flaring in her unusual eyes. “Are you done ogling me?” she asked sharply.

“If I were ogling you,” I started, giving her a slow grin, “you would be melting into a puddle at my feet. Though, come to think about it, you do look like an ice-lolly that’s been left out in the sun too long.”

She snorted and looked away, crossing her arms under her breasts. Damn those things, they were fucking gorgeous, even clothed like they were. “You’ve got two seconds, Your Royal Highness.”

I ignored the drawl of the blasted title on her lips and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I need a photographer.”

Her eyes swung back to me and she just stared. That was obviously the last thing she thought I was going to say. “Don’t you normally avoid the press?”

“It’s a long story, but the short of it is that I need to clean up my image,” I said quickly before I changed my mind. “And I need someone to document it for me.”

Rose laughed, a deep throaty laugh that had my cock twitching again. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” I said roughly, hating the fact that I was that attracted to her already. That was going to complicate things. “I need you to do a fluff piece—or two—on me, taking some photos of me being like a royal and then selling the stories to the right magazines or newspapers.”

Her laughter died and she cocked her head to the side. “Why not hire a professional for that? They can do both. I can’t write worth a lick.”

“You are the only one who won’t take this to the press,” I said, figuring the only way to get her buy-in was to be straight up with her. “Look. I need someone I can trust. You took a pretty provocative picture of me the other night, and it’s yet to circulate the tabloids… so I figure—”

Her cheeks bloomed a dusky pink like her namesake as she glanced down, and I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of her checking out my junk. So little miss photographer was embarrassed that she took a picture like that. “You do still have the picture, don’t you, Rose?” I asked softly, curious to know.

“I don’t see why that has anything to do with this,” she forced out, clearing her throat.

I took a step closer, invading her personal space. With my hand, I reached out and captured one of her curls between my fingers, feeling the softness of the strands and then catching the vanilla scent that wafted from them. I knew right then, her hesitation confirming it for me, that she was the perfect person for this job. She would give her whole heart to whatever task she put her mind to. It was another of the many reasons why I was starting to like her.

“You kept it for your own,” I finally stated, whispering the words into her ear as I tugged on the curl lightly. She looked up, and I was struck by the fire that was in her eyes now, a need I hadn’t anticipated, one that reflected my own in their depths. I suddenly wanted to kiss the hell out of her, to feel her lips on mine. Would she moan under my touch or would she rake her nails across my back in an attempt to pull me closer? Fuck, I wanted to know. I leaned in and she drew in a breath.

“Rose?”

She jumped out of my grasp so quickly that I stumbled forward, nearly pitching into the filling sink. Straightening, I turned to see her mum entering the kitchen. “Edward, you shouldn’t be in here. It’s an absolute mess!”

“I was helping Rose clear the table,” I said, putting on an apologetic smile that I knew would win over any mother (except my stepmother, of course). “It was the least I could do for your wonderful hospitality tonight.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” she said, bringing her hand up to her throat. “Won’t you come sit for a cup of tea before you go?”

“I must go, don’t want to overstay my welcome,” I said, looking back at Rose. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she was eyeing me warily, like she didn’t know what to think. Hell, I didn’t either. I had lust raging through my veins for her, and I didn’t understand why.

“Rose, you need to see our guest out, and you are welcome here anytime,” her mum said, shooing us both out of the kitchen with her hands. “I will take care of the dishes.”

Rose shot her mother a dirty look before storming out, her fists clenched at her sides. I fell in step as we walked to the front door. She threw it open and walked down the broken concrete path towards my car. It was a sweet ride, a custom black R8 coupe that I’d purchased just six months ago. While I preferred to take a cab or have one of the royal drivers pick me up, I still enjoyed driving the beauty every chance I got, plus it helped in my little getaways when I wanted to drop my royal guards.

She slowed when she reached it and swivelled around to face me with her hands on her hips. “Okay, so now you have made friends with my mum and hijacked my family dinner, not to mentioning ruining my blind date who no doubt thinks I have a fetish for threesomes, so what’s next? I just want to be prepared.”

“Are you going to take the job?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest in an effort not to grab at her. That wouldn’t make this any better for either of us. I was already imagining bending her over the hood of my prized possession and taking her hard to sate this lust that had reared up.

She sighed in frustration. “Even if I did, I have no camera to snap any pictures, remember? You effectively put me out of a job for at least a month or two.”

“Well, that’s why this job is perfect for you because…” I said, walking over to the passenger side and throwing open the door. She watched me curiously from the other side as I reached for the bag that I had picked up on the way over. I pulled it out and handed it over the top of the car. “Here. I’m sorry for breaking your camera. Take it, it won’t bite, I promise.”

She took the bag warily, gasping as she pulled out the camera inside. “Oh my god. This is a four-thousand-pound camera.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t ask how much it cost. The guy at the store ensured me that it was the best on the market that he had in stock.” I had stopped by the store on my way over, figuring I would sweeten the pot. By the look on her face, I was right on the money. She was handling it like it was made of glass, much like I had handled the car that stood between us when I had first gotten it. I knew absolutely nothing about cameras, but I figured what the hell. I had broken hers, and from what I had learned about Rose Mathis, she couldn’t just up and buy another one, at least not right away.

She swallowed and shook her head, putting the camera carefully back into the bag before handing it back over the top of the car to me. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I don’t even know you!”

“I can’t take it back,” I challenged, tamping down the desperation I was feeling. If I couldn’t get her to bite on this, I was in deep shit. I needed this, and I had thirty days to show my father I could be the perfect royal son, or I was back out on the street with no future and no place to go. Despite our differences, she was the only one I could trust. “Please. Consider it a signing bonus. I will pay you well for your time, Rose. More than you will make taking photos at your sister’s club. It’s one month. Where else can you make ten grand in one month?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at me. “Did you just say ten grand?”

“And the camera—you can keep the camera regardless,” I replied, stepping back from the car and rounding the front of it quickly. “I have never asked anyone for help before, but I am asking you. I’m putting my life and my future in your hands. How can you say no?” I added with an earnest smile. And though she probably thought I was full of shit, every word of it was true. Yes, I could hire a professional—even a whole team, if I wanted to—but I didn’t. I wanted her as part of the package too.

She closed her mouth and clasped the camera bag to her chest, a good sign. “You’re not shitting me, are you?”

I shook my head then crossed a finger over my heart. “I’m desperate. I need your help, Rose. I’ve been given a month to fix my image, and you are my best shot. And about the only fucking person I can trust to keep this a secret.”

“Why is this so important to you?” she asked. “What’s at stake?”

I sighed. “Everything.”