I walked down the stairs barefoot, an amused look on my face. She was going to take the job. I had no doubts. The lure of ten grand had proved to be her downfall, and maybe my charm had something to do with it, too, though I’m sure she would never admit to that.

I had been surprised to see her staring at me when she woke me up, even more surprised as my cock had jumped to attention at the thought of her being so close to my bed. In a brief moment, I wanted to pull her into the damn thing to see how she was going to react, but she had stepped away quickly, as if she could read my dirty mind. It was probably for the best anyway.

I rounded the staircase and found her sitting on the sofa, her back rigid and ankles crossed. She looked almost terrified, as if she’d been called to the headmaster’s office for an old fashioned caning. Mmm, I certainly wouldn’t say no to spanking her voluptuous behind. I grinned at the thought and resisted the urge to adjust myself as my cock twitched.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. So,” I started, taking the chair across from her, “you said something about having conditions?”

Her mouth worked, thinking, before she looked at me and nodded. “I am not your maid. I will not be your fall guy or girl, either. I won’t do anything illegal or immoral or anything to jeopardise my life or my family.”

“What on earth do you think I’m going to get you to do?”

“I don’t really know, but that’s my point. So I want to be clear about my boundaries from the get-go.”

“Okay, fair enough,” I shrugged, thinking all of those were legit reasons; I’d only asked the question to watch her squirm and blush again.

“I won’t sleep with you, either.”

I snapped my gaze back to her, surprise filling my veins. “What?”

“I won’t sleep with you,” she said, a little louder this time, though her voice trembled with every word. “I now know of your reputation, and I wish to have no part in your sexual, er… lifestyle. I am here to do a job. I won’t be a conquest.”

“Oh, really?” I chuckled. I was getting to her. She had definitely been affected by me all up in her personal space last night. Sleep with her? Hell, I wanted to devour her. My dreams had been full of her, and those damn unusual eyes of hers haunted my sleep. “What if you decide you do want to sleep with me?” I asked, an undercurrent of heat running just under the surface of my words.

“I won’t,” she said automatically, her words coming out in a squeak.

“Liar,” I said softly, giving her a wink.

She looked away, breaking our miniature staring contest. She cleared her throat. “Do you agree or not?”

“Of course, I agree,” I said, mentally filing that away for later. I wouldn’t break that clause, but I wouldn’t need to; she would do that all on her own, I thought wickedly. “I’m not some monster. I’m not going to force myself on you. Besides, you know what I truly want of yours,” I said and leaned forward in my chair.

Her body instinctively mirrored my action. “What’s that?” she questioned, her eyes wide.

“Mmm, your photography skills—what else?”

She huffed and scowled at me, but her shoulders lost some of their tension, and she began to relax.

“So, where do we start?”

More tension ebbed out of her expression as the topic of conversation turned to work. She pulled out a notebook and looked at me expectedly. “I don’t know… You tell me. I’ve never done this before. What’s on your calendar?”

I leaned back in the chair, thinking about the dozens of emails and formal letters I got daily from the palace about things that they wanted me to attend. “I usually ignore everything that doesn’t start or end with a party. The rest of the invites get ignored and binned.”

“Well, not anymore,” she answered tightly, looking down at the notebook. “Fine, I had a feeling that you wouldn’t have anything organised, so I took the liberty of pulling the royal schedule off the internet. It might not be completely accurate, but it’s a start that we can work with.”

I was impressed; not even I had thought of that. Clearly she had done her homework, which made me feel somewhat reassured that she was the woman for the job. Pulling my phone out of my jeans, I flipped to the rigorous schedule Andrew was always sending me. “Don’t worry, I’ll email you the full one. But you look like you already have a bit of a plan?”

“There’s a dinner tonight,” she answered, reading the page. “Should be a good starting place to get some shots. We could use it as a trial run?”

“Not good enough,” I said, thinking that sitting through a dinner with people I didn’t care to know was not my idea of a good time. “Next.”

Her face darkened. “You won’t be there to have a good time, Your Highness—”

“Edward.”

“Fine, Edward. But you can’t pick and choose these events based upon how much of party it’s going to be or how many women you think you can lure back to your bedroom.”

“I know that, but I said next. No boring dinners.”

I heard a small growl rumble from her lips. She took a breath and tried again. “There’s a black-tie affair for a charity that your father supports,” she said, pressing her lips in a tight line. “Tomorrow night.”

“Better. That one I will do,” I said, thinking of how surprised my father would be to see me there. He was forever supporting charities.

“I really think you should do the dinner, as well,” she replied, looking up at me, those beautiful eyes magically dissolving my resolve. With eyes like hers I would be in danger of doing anything for her. “You only have a month, after all.”

I ran a hand through my hair, realising she was right. I needed to show my father that I could behave in public, be part of the royal family no matter what, with a cleaned up image, regardless of how painful it was for me. “Fine,” I said. “I will go.” Palming my phone, I scrolled to my brother’s name. “I need you to confirm for me your full name.”

“Why? I thought you already knew that,” she said, frowning.

“Just making sure. It’s for security clearance,” I responded dully. By dinnertime my father’s security detail would know everything about Rose Mathis.

“Rose Victoria Mathis,” she said softly. I raised an eyebrow but typed the name nevertheless, firing the message to my brother to take care of it. I then stood, stretching my arms over my shoulders. “Come on,” I said, walking to the lift. “I’m starving, and you need a new dress.”

“W-what?” she asked, hurrying after me with a confused look on her face. “But I’m not attending this thing.”

I turned and pointed toward her camera bag hanging from her shoulder. “How do you expect to get any pictures of me to send to the tabloids?”

“But won’t that be very suspicious?” she asked, clearly not believing that it was a good plan. “I mean, carrying around your own paparazzi?”

“And what do you have in mind?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. How else did she expect to get photos of me being all respectable?

“Well, you could just show up for one,” she said, biting her lower lip. I was instantly drawn to it, the plumpness reminding me of how close I had come to kissing her last night. “Surely that has to be an improvement. I can write a piece for the newspaper, I suppose. Just tell me what happens.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, glaring down at her. “You are going with me so you can see it first-hand.”

“I-I didn’t think attending private family dinners would be on the menu,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “I will be your publicist of sorts, but even those don’t go to royal dinners! Do they?”

“No. So fine then, you will be my damn date instead!” I shouted, catching us both off guard. Her eyes widened and I swore, attempting to lower my irritation. “Listen, I need someone there who I can trust and who is impartial to tell me if I do something completely stupid. I can’t afford any more bad press, and honestly, Rose, I don’t trust my own family. Certainly not my stepmother.” Andrew would not steer me wrong, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I wanted her there. She bit her lip nervously, and I recognised that it was her tic, the one thing she did when she was contemplating something. Another quirk that was growing on me.

“O-okay,” she finally responded, looking up at me, the expression in her eyes hard to decipher. I stepped toward her involuntarily, my hand reaching out to cup her cheek. Her eyes widened, and I felt the jolt of shock as well, surprised that I had touched her in such a tender fashion. The heat that coursed through my body at the smallest touch had me thinking about how fucking bad I wanted her. I had never wanted anyone so much.

“It will be fine,” I said, clearing my voice and stepping back, dropping my hand from her cheek, though I wanted desperately to pull her into a searing kiss. “Are we going to get you some new clothes, or do you happen to have something suitable?”

She blinked a few times, and I watched as Rose snapped back into the here and now, her dazed look taking on a hard edge. “I have clothes, if that is what you are asking,” she said coolly.

“That’s not what I am asking,” I forced out, my voice sounding harsh to even my own ears. “Formal attire, black-tie event attire, do you have it?”

Her lips set in a firm line, and I knew my answer. “Come on,” I sighed, resuming my stride to the lift. “And I am not taking no for an answer. My treat. I’m going to make you look like the princess that you are.”