My heart raced as I shut the door, closing myself inside the room, alone with the prince. My new nemesis. I had a moment of doubt when I wondered what on earth I was doing there. But I quickly reminded myself I had a job to do.

I was fortunate to be friends with the royal publicist, who had rang me to give me a heads up as soon as she’d heard of William’s accident and subsequent admittance to King Frederick IV’s hospital.

Ignoring the late hour and after throwing on some clothes, I hurried to the hospital in the middle of the night, fearing the worst. I’d managed to get there in time to hear the last bit of His Majesty’s conversation with his son, giving him an ultimatum and painting him into a corner that I knew Will would be livid about. But in all the years I had worked for the royal family, I had never heard the king so angry.

The shouting ended and the king shut the door with a tremendous amount of force as he left. I stepped aside, nodded and curtsied as he passed by, not expecting him to address me.

“Your turn. I hope you can talk some sense into him, Sophie.”

“I’ll do my very best, Your Majesty.”

Now, in William’s hospital room, I was dealing with an equally angry royal, who was looking at me like I was his worst enemy. Maybe I was. After all, I was in charge of shaping him into someone who was worthy of the crown. I felt out of my depth.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, cautiously ignoring his earlier outburst, and came to stop at the foot of the hospital bed.

“How do you think?” he shot back, impatience and anger written all over his face alongside the tiny cuts that marked his left side. “Are you here to tell me that I’m a disappointment as well?”

Well, his mouth was working fine, I thought. Shame.

But he didn’t seem too banged up. I looked at him and noted the contradicting waves that seem to radiate from him. He was pissed off, that was clear to see, but he was oddly vulnerable at the same time, lying there like that, tucked under the crisp white sheet. He reminded me of a child I once knew, sick and utterly dependent upon carers and the kindness of others.

“I don’t think you’ve had a fair shot in proving what you can and cannot do.”

His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged, knowing that I was overstepping the boundaries of my position just a tad. I was a private secretary, not a therapist. I was best served behind a desk, managing his schedule and a thousand other minute details in the day to day life of a royal. But for some reason, I knew I couldn’t stand idly by and watch William implode. Frederick wouldn’t want me to do that.

“Show them that you are more that this petulant child. Show them who you can be, that you’re a man,” I finally settled on, pushing the limits. My words could just as easily antagonize the prince. “Prove to your father that he is wrong on all accounts.” I stepped forward, gripping the footboard with my hands. “Or if nothing else, do it for your brother. He was proud of you, you know.”

William eyed me before a feral grin slid over his face, making him appear far too handsome for his own good. I felt a flush of heat in response, not liking the way my body instantly reacted to his smile, like I had no control.

“Bloody hell,” he said softly. “You were shagging him, weren’t you?”

One kind of heat was quickly replaced another kind; a burning rage.

“How dare you imply such a thing; I’m a professional!” I said, my voice shaking with anger.

“You’re telling me he never put you over his knee, or that large mahogany desk of his, and spanked your naughty pert bottom?”

“Shut your mouth. I respected your brother. He was my employer, my friend, and nothing more. If you think Frederick would ever do such a thing then you never truly knew him!”

I took a deep breath and urged my clenched fists to relax. How dare he!

William didn’t apologise and I gulped for air again, my chest heaving. No, I hadn’t shagged Frederick, not even close. Sure, I had a crush on the handsome, quiet heir; what English girl didn’t? But I’d respected him, was very fond of him—loved him like a sibling, even—and believed the feeling was mutual. We’d gotten along very well, which was in stark contrast with how things were going with the new heir. He was a bastard.

“Don’t you ever assume anything like that about me again, do you understand? I don’t care who you are…”

Will surprised me by laughing, my stinging words having no effect on him at all. “You’re a ballsy little thing aren’t you, Sophie? A spanking or two would do you a world of good.”

My blush deepened and I involuntary stepped back, his words having a physical effect upon me. But in hindsight it was probably for the best; I was in danger of losing control and marching over to his bedside and strangling the life out of him. I could do it too, the guards were oblivious, thinking he was safe with little ol’ me. But I pushed the fleeting murderous thought away.

I shook my head, partly in disbelief, partly with a resigned kind of sadness, cause I knew right then this was not going to work. We were like oil and water. He was crude and disgusting, and made my blood boil. Whereas I had no tolerance for these kinds of antics, especially not in the workplace.

Then my own words to the king jabbed their way back to the forefront of my mind. “I won’t let you down.”

I had a good mind to kick myself for promising to do what seemed to be impossible. But my mother had drummed into me from an early age that nothing was impossible and that my word meant everything. And in our line of work that was very true. After a few cleansing breaths, I convinced myself to give him another chance. Bite your tongue, Sophie, and do you job. You’re not a quitter.

“I will be at the office tomorrow morning,” I finally said, making a move towards the door. “If you are so inclined to join me, then great. If not, well, you will be responsible for my dismissal and you’ll have to deal with your father all by yourself. Good luck with that.” I put my hand on the door handle and paused. “But if you would like someone to help you, to be a buffer, to have your back at every turn no matter what, and to have your very best interests at heart, then you know where to find me.”

I’d had my say, the rest was up to him. I exited like I was on fire, nodding to the two armed officers from the Royalty and Specialist Protection branch that were now posted outside the room. I doubted Will even knew they were out there and wouldn’t be pleased when he found out. But it was something he was going to have to get used to.

As I walked down the hallway, sudden remorse kicked in. I couldn’t believe how forward, and familiar, I’d been with him. And it hadn’t been the first time. My mum would be shocked if she ever found out, but he pushed my buttons that he had no business messing with. Maybe that was his ultimate objective, to push me to my breaking point until he got his way. Did he really want me to quit so he would be left alone and left to his own devices? Seemed counter productive if you asked me.

But I supposed I hadn’t helped. Granted, I’d offered a semblance of an olive branch in the face of his vulgar words but I had, after all, been just as bad as his father had. I’d thrown down a gauntlet of sorts, and effectively put my position, a position I had loved until now, on the line. Willingly.

Would he step up and do the right thing? The sour feeling in my stomach told me otherwise. Will acted like he had nothing to lose, and yet I had everything. Oh bloody hell, what had I done?

I tried not to eye the clock on the wall and concentrated on straightening the stack of mail in front of me. My stomach lurched every time I saw Frederick’s name embossed on the majority of the envelopes. They were still being sent here and I still had a responsibility to deal with them. So I gritted my teeth and got on with the difficult task.

It had been extremely hard to come in that morning and equally hard not look up each time there was a noise at the door, expecting Frederick to come through it. He normally would greet me with a patient look on his kind but steely face, deposit my coffee and whatever goody he’d chosen that day, then tell me all about what he was looking forward to after I’d gone over his calendar with him.

Normally there would be some meetings he’d attend alone, like with His Majesty. Other meetings I went along with him, though nothing to do with national security, mind you. And always, like clockwork really, there would be some black tie affair, charity event or royal visit that he would want me to attend to ensure that his appearance or speech went off without a hitch. I would stand in the corner in my serviceable black dress with the other hired help, watching him win over the crowd with his charming personality and take some observations for him as to how he could improve the next go around.

I suspected if Will turned up it wasn’t going to be that easy.

A few friends had asked on more than one occasion how I could work for such a handsome man and not feel anything for him, but I knew my station and knew I was there to do a job, not fall in love with my employer. I’d been comfortable with Frederick… So why had Will’s words gotten under my skin so damn much?

I didn’t want to admit it to myself but the thought of being bent over, like Will has suggested, had me all hot and bothered. Yet it hadn’t been Frederick’s face or hand on me in my wicked thoughts. Instead for some reason it had been Will’s, his devious face—though similar to Frederick’s—that I’d pictured.

I closed my eyes and willed the images away, took a breath then a sip of my cooling and almost forgotten tea, and busied myself again. I finished the correspondence then moved onto the next item on my list and finished that in super quick time. I was running out of things to do. Too efficient for my own good. I needed Will to turn up to proceed with anything more and settled to do a mindless task of cleaning out the spam inbox while I waited. Clearly I wasn’t going to do much else other than explain to the king later on why his son was not present.

Then without warning at five minutes to ten the door flew open and Will stalked in, a grim expression on his face. He was dressed in a pair of dark trousers and blue dress shirt, the white bandage on his forearm peeking out from under the slightly rolled back sleeves. His jacket was thrown over his shoulder and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty came over me as I took him in. From the look on his face and the way he held himself it was as if the car crash had never happened. He stood there, with an unwavering stare, looking gorgeous, sexy and dangerous, very dangerous. It was amazing how the two men were so different and yet looked so much alike.

“You came,” I said breathlessly, standing behind my desk. He was here. That had to mean something. “I’m glad.”

He grunted a response as he glanced around, then stuck a hand in his trouser pocket and turned to face me. “So,” he finally said. “What now?”

Excited at the prospect that he might actually be taking this seriously, I reached over and grabbed the printed calendar that I had prepared that morning, ready to be reviewed with him. Each block was shaded with its own specific colour, based upon my own carefully designed colour-coded system that had taken me years to develop and refine. It was a system, streamlined and crystal clear, and one I was very proud of.

I moved from behind the desk and stood next to him, inadvertently getting a little too close in my eagerness, causing me to inhale his intoxicating clean, yet spicy scent. I became hyper aware of my heart as it thudded when he stepped close to get a better look at the calendar in my hands. His strong jaw was only inches away. He hadn’t chosen to shave and I had to admit it made him even more swoon-worthy.

“I can’t read this,” he said. “What are all those colours for?”

I cleared my throat and pointed to this morning’s events, ignoring the ones he’d already missed by being late.

“They’re a quick reference. You’ll get used to it. The blue events are important meetings. The blue ones with hashed lines are meetings with your family. Blue is very important and must never be missed. Green are other meetings that you can miss if you must, but they are equally important. I wouldn’t advise skipping out on many of them. It’ll cause a backlog in your schedule and plenty of headaches.

“Yellow are your black tie events. So today you have five meetings, three with your family and two with some of the charities that Frederick was working with. Oh, and there is a black tie event tonight at the museum. You won’t have to give a speech but an appearance is expected and would be greatly appreciated.”

Prince William took the calendar from my hands, his expression unreadable as he looked over the information. “Hell, did you schedule my piss breaks as well?”

My face coloured but I believed I recovered quite nicely and responded with, “I’m sure I could pencil those in if you insist, but I thought you would appreciate a bit of flexibility. At least for your first week.”

He looked at me and I saw a fleeting smirk on his handsome face. He really was very handsome, with strong features that looked so different on him than they had on Frederick. Frederick’s nose had been ramrod straight, but Will had a slightly crooked one. Had he perhaps broken it growing up? It wouldn’t surprise me if he had; he seemed the type to get into a fight.

“What are you staring at?”

Bloody hell, what was I doing? Flustered, I looked away, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing, Sir. Sorry. Erm, your office is back there. I took the liberty of clearing it for you and stocking it with your own personal stationary. Shall I show you around?”

“Nah, I got it: desk, chair, shackles. All accounted for,” he answered, his surly voice back. “I’m pretty sure it’s not rocket science.”

“Would you like a tea or coffee before your first meeting?” I asked, ignoring his jibe, turning to face him. He was studying the calendar in earnest, a wrinkle forming between his brows. “I can get you whatever you want. Your wish is my command,” I said adding a friendly tone to my voice, hoping we could finally get off onto a good start.

“A bloody scotch would work, my head is killing me,” he muttered, walking toward the back office.

A wave of sadness came over me as yet another memory that would be hard to forget surged forth.

“There’s a bottle in the left bottom drawer of the desk. Your brother liked to have it on hand. For special occasions and such…”

William’s head shot up and he looked at me, his throat working. Emotion was brimming inside him and I glanced away, giving him a moment. It had to be difficult for him to be here as well.

“I apologise for my comment last night,” he said, surprising me. “I was pissed at… well, at everyone. Frederick, my father, you name it, and I took it out on you. What I said was uncalled for and derogatory.”

His apology seemed sincere enough and I managed a shaky nod in response. “Yes, well, I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Prince William muttered under his breath but he didn’t look for a reaction, causing to ponder if I’d imagined the words.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing.”

A moment passed. He was staring at me now, but I couldn’t read his expression. Whatever it was it made my whole body shiver.

“Cold?” he said with an arched brow, his eyes dipping to my chest. I could’ve sworn he was playing with me.

“No, I’m fine,” I replied and forced myself to concentrate. “Can I ask what made you change your mind? I mean, for you to come in today.”

“You want to know if your little pep-talk had an effect, do you? Looking for brownie points, or a gold star perhaps?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Er, no. I was just curious—”

“I’m sure there will be lots of things you will be curious about while I’m here, but don't think I’m going to start spilling my secrets to you, Sophie. You may have had my brother’s ear but understand this—we aren’t going to be friends, ok? I’m here. That should be enough for you and for everyone else.”

Standing there taking his verbal dressing down, I dug my fingers into my palms and waited for him to stop. He couldn’t be more unlike his brother. Frederick had been kind but his twin was down-right cruel.

“Oh and while we’re both getting on the same page I want to ask you something…”

I blinked, nodded, then held my breath for what was yet to come. I knew it wasn’t going to be praise or anything of the sort.

“Do you always dress like that?”

“Like…?” I said, stammering the word out, as I glanced down at my clothes. What was wrong with them?

“Like you’re a seventy-year old schoolmarm who’s got one foot in the retirement home?”

Flabbergasted and stunned into silence, unable to find my voice, I merely glanced down at my lilac work dress with its high collar and long skirt that reached my ankles, then back up at the prince who was also in the process of giving me a once over. But the expression on his face was not one of joy. He looked almost disgusted by my clothes. Granted, I knew I wasn’t the most fashionable woman in the palace, and I’d taken most of my work related fashion tips from my mother, whose style hadn’t changed in all of her years, but the dress was practical, comfortable and most of all professional. At least I thought so…

“I take your silence as a yes then. Well, if you’re trying to make me into something I’m not, it’s probably only fair that I have the same opportunity to go all My Fair Lady on you.”

“You’ve seen My Fair Lady?”

“Read Pygmalion too if you must know,” he paused to gauge my reaction. At that point I really didn’t know which way was up. I felt lost and confused, belittled and shamed, and also kinda impressed. There was something extremely wrong with me. “What? Did you think I couldn’t read or something?”

“No, I just wasn’t expecting something like that to come out of your mouth.”

“Why, because I’m normally an uncouth son of a b—”

“Don’t talk about your mother like that,” I quickly interrupted. “She’s the Queen. Have a little respect.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s just an expression. Don’t get your granny panties in a twist.”

“I do not wear granny panties!” I shouted, hands on hips. That was a step too far.

“Prove it,” he responded, grinning like he’d finally won baiting me into losing my cool.

“In your dreams!”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Back to business though. I forbid you to ever wear that dress again. It literally hurts my eyes. Burn it for both our sakes. And if you’re going to be my personal assistant—”

“I’m not a PA,” I interrupted again, but he stepped forward and suddenly placed his right forefinger vertically against my lips, silencing me.

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. All I could think about was that his finger was upon my lips and how good it would feel to take it into my mouth.

“…If you’re going to be my personal assistant, secretary, dogsbody, servant, whatever, then I can’t have you dressed like that. It would reflect badly upon me and my reputation, and this office, don’t you see? I want you polished and pristine, with some semblance of modern style. We need to get you into the twenty-first century, or at the very least the twentieth. And showing a bit of leg wouldn’t kill you.”

“I—”

Will shook his head. He wasn’t finished yet.

“So, do us both a favour, grab a girlfriend—you do have friends right?”

I responded with a meek shrug.

“Whatever, go alone if you have to, or better yet get a personal shopper. I’m sure I can get you a name, Lottie knows everyone in that world, but get yourself some new clothes. Cause that thing looks like it should be in a museum. Don’t forget shoes either,” he continued as he tilted his body to the side to peek under the long skirt of my dress. “God, what are those? Never mind, I don’t even want to know. Just get something better, and put it on my account. I presume you have access to my accounts?”

I nodded; there was nothing else I could do. This was probably the most he’d said to me since we’d met and I was having a hard time digesting it all while his warm skin was still in contact with mine.

“Good then. Glad that’s settled.” He dropped his hand and took a step back, studying me. Presumably waiting for some kind of response. “Was there anything you wanted to say or anything else you needed to tell me?”

I snapped out of my daze, and managed to break eye contact finally. A thousand thoughts buzzed inside my head. Fleeting from one corner to the other, colliding dumbly, and it seemed like I was never going to straighten out the mess or ever catch a coherent thought again while he looked at me. But after a few short breaths the chaos began to right itself and I fell back into my professional mode.

“Erm, my mobile number is programmed into yours on the desk.”

“Oh? You already want me to make a booty call? Did Frederick do that too?”

“Oh, God. No, I didn’t mean that—”

“Relax. You really have to start to learn when I’m messing with you.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. But yeah, I already have a phone,” he said, a little puzzled, and thankfully getting back on topic.

“I took the liberty of getting you setup on a secure work mobile,” I explained, marvelling at how I was able to string a full sentence together. “It’s standard procedure. And it helps. Frederick had one. He preferred to keep his personal and work life separate.” Given this was all new to Will, I thought he would appreciate being able to keep some things private, whatever he could at least.

“Sounds fair.”

He looked at me expectantly again and I quickly blurted, “Don’t forget you have twenty minutes until you are due to meet with your family.”

He sighed, “How could I forget? Though I’m sure you’ll remind me again and again until I go.”

“Yes, well, that is my job.”

“Mhm, that makes me think. Sophie, seeing how I am technically your new boss. Your new master as it were, you’d best be calling me Sir all the time from now on too. It’s only proper after all and I’ve noticed you’ve become lax on that score. Gotta adhere to all these pesky antiquated rules… no wiggle room on that I’m afraid. Plus it’ll please me. And you want to please me, right?”

Yes, Sir? I spontaneously thought.

He smirked again but gave me no chance to respond out loud, not that I would’ve been able with my mouth hanging open again, catching flies. He walked to his office, never looking back, and shut the door with a firm thud.

I waited, counting to ten, before allowing myself to collapse in my chair, feeling as if I’d ran a marathon in the span of a few minutes.

* * *