My father’s office was becoming my second home what with the amount of times I’d found myself summoned there. This time, however, I found my mum seated in the nineteenth-century French handmade armchair in front of his desk. She had a cautious smile that let me know all I needed to know. Something was up with this meeting. Something that I probably was not going to enjoy.

“Mum,” I said, kissing her cheek. “You are looking lovely today. How are you?”

The vestiges of grief were still evident on her face and in her eyes, but she was looking a bit more like herself. A little more colour in her cheeks and she’d finally started eating again, thank God. Frederick’s death had taken a toll on all of us, but a mother losing a child had to be the absolute worst.

“I’m well, William, thank you for asking,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap, her ever present handkerchief twisting in the folds of her skirt. “Have you just come from a business meeting? You look very handsome in your suit. Did you have a productive week?”

I thought of the week I’d had, Sophie at the forefront of my mind and our temporary cooling off period. She needed time, which I’d found best to give her but I hadn’t given up. Instead of broaching the subject of our unforgettable kiss I’d decided to play it her way for a little while. Do everything she asked of me, attend every sodding meeting and tour. Eventually she would cave; she wouldn’t be able to resist.

Though to her credit it seemed like she’d eased up a bit, and had even thrown in a few interesting appointments that I found myself enjoying. Including finding me a place on a committee that headed up, funded, and organised charitable outings for disadvantaged kids who wouldn’t normally have access to obscure activities and sports. Rock-climbing and abseiling were the main highlights, but of course I’d introduced the idea of skydiving and base-jumping. Though I did also suggest skiing and snowboarding on the local dry slopes, just so they didn’t think I was totally off my rocker or irresponsible.

Looking back I truly had enjoyed those meetings and began to understand what Frederick had meant when he’d said he would’ve been lost without her. If she continued and managed to keep my appearances and duties as pleasurable as those ones had been, then maybe I could make this work.

“I did. Everything is going well,” I said, answering my mum. But before I could elaborate further my father marched into the office, trailing a commanding presence behind him. He shut the door and made his way around his desk but choose to remain standing.

“Good morning, William.”

“Morning,” I answered, and sat forward. “Why I have been summoned again? This wasn’t on my schedule.”

“There’s a diplomatic ball on Friday,” my father said, wasting no time to get to the point. “We anticipate your presence.”

“If it’s on my calendar, I’ll be there,” I answered, shrugging.

“Oh it is. Sophie has been made aware,” my mum replied, then her gaze flickered to my father.

“Was that it?” I asked, impatient to get to my feet and leave.

Mum glanced at my father again then at me. Seemingly she was to take lead on whatever they wanted to discuss. “We have invited Prince Lucien of Monaco.”

I nodded, not sure where this was heading. “Do you want me to entertain the Prince? I’m sure I could think of something—”

“Well, no. Not quite. His daughter, Princess Annabelle will be joining him. We believe there’s a great opportunity here. The potential for a grand union between our two families. So, we want you to befriend her and see if the sparks fly.”

I laughed, mainly because I didn’t know what else to do. “You’ve chosen a wife for me?”

“Not quite,” my father said. “Of course we would rather you pick out your own bride, William. But Annabelle would be a fine choice. Our number one choice, in fact. Your mother and I both agree. And Lucien has also given his approval.”

I stared blankly at them, rendered speechless. The idea was preposterous. But what made it worse was they were presenting it as if they were giving me, or Annabelle, a choice in the matter.

“Sounds like it’s already a done deal.”

My father continued, “She’s smart, William. She’s working on her doctorate, too. This would be an ideal match for you and everyone involved.”

“Good for her,” I said, not really caring how smart or right for me she was. “What would you want me to do then? Have a few dances with her? Drum up a conversation or two and sweep her off her feet?” Perhaps better still, I could shag her in the throne room? I thought, but resisted speaking my mind.

“William,” my mum admonished me, her eyes narrowing. “For now just be yourself dear. That’s all we are asking. But you know, make an effort.”

“Yes, Mum,” I said, placating them for the moment. I would meet the Princess as instructed but that would be that. They couldn’t force me to marry, could they?

“Wait a minute,” I continued, raising my voice, as a dull memory came back into focus. “I thought the name sounded familiar. Wasn’t she unofficially betrothed to Frederick?”

“William there’s no need to shout, we are sitting right here,” my mother said, closing her eyes then letting out a long steadying breath.

“I don’t believe this. You’re palming my dead brother’s would-be fiancée off onto me? Like a fucking hand-me-down?”

“William!” my father growled. “Enough. You will do this. You will meet her. We are not asking you to marry her.”

“Yet!”

He sighed and shook his head. “For once in your life listen to what we are saying. We have your best interests at heart.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll do my best, Your Majesty.”

King Henry’s jawline tightened. “You are dismissed, young man.”

With my steam levels rising dangerously, I got out of the palace as fast as I could and climbed into the sleek Aston Martin DB11 I’d acquired the previous week. The local dealership had heard of my little incident with the Audi—who in London hadn’t?—and sent a replacement car over before anyone else could get a look in. And I was glad that they did. She was a beauty. A gun-metal grey two-door coupe that purred like a kitten under my touch.

The papers had a run a story on the excess and extravagance of the royal family because of it, the car being a gift falling on deaf ears, but I couldn’t very well give it back and go around without proper wheels, now could I? Besides I was tired of being chauffeured about all the time. I preferred to be in control. And now I could go wherever I wanted again. If the country wanted me to embrace my role, be compliant, then this went a long way to making me a happy little prince under their thumb.

I drove around town for a bit, losing my tail in the process, and it wasn’t long before I was heading in one particular direction. South and a little east towards Forest Hill. It was like I had no choice in the matter, and was being pulled towards her against my will. But I didn’t fight it, it felt right, and let the car whisk me closer to my unconscious goal. Whether I would be welcomed or turned away at the door was another story.

Finding a parking space on her street was a challenge, however. But eventually a woman three doors down from Sophie’s bundled two small kids into the back of an SUV and drove off. I made short work of parking, climbed out of the car and took the path to her door. It was green with a gold knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. I hadn’t noticed it before, but it wasn’t surprising since I’d been too preoccupied with her luscious lips; anxious to kiss her.

I knocked, two dull thuds, then waited.

All of a sudden a bout of nerves hit me and I had no idea what to do with my hands. Clasp them behind me, or in front? What would look the best? What would give her the best impression of me?

I decided on neither and shoved my hands in my pockets.

The door opened and Sophie stared back at me, her eyes widening. “William? I mean, Your Highness… Sir. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

She was dressed in an outfit I had never seen her in before, casual wear that she clearly thought was inappropriate for the office. Regardless, she looked stunning in the oversized shirt that was sliding off of one shoulder, and a pair of black leggings that clung to her shapely calves. She was barefoot, her hair piled up on top of her head in a messy knot with not a stitch of makeup on her face. I’d died and gone to heaven.

“I thought we could hang out.” Netflix and chill came to mind.

“H-hang out?” she stammered, surprise on her face. “You want us to hang out? Sir, I don’t think we should…”

I knew what she was thinking. She wanted to keep it professional. Ignore the fact that there was clearly something between us. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t in my DNA.

“Sophie, I just had one hell of a conversation with my parents so it’s either this or I go jump off of a cliff again. Maybe a higher one this time,” I shrugged, starting to feel like perhaps I’d made a mistake coming to her place. It was her day off and probably the last thing she wanted to do was spend it with me, especially after the frigid week we’d had.

She gave me a half smile, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been given that kind of ultimatum before. Would you be jumping off this cliff with or without a parachute?”

“Which would you prefer?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

I winced. “Okay, I get it,” I started. “I shouldn’t be bothering you on your day off. I’ll go.”

“No, no, come on in,” she said, pushing the door open wider. “I was only doing housework anyway.”

I stepped inside her domain and she shut the door behind me.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping your eyes closed that would be great, Sir.”

“Sophie, it’s fine. You should see my rooms sometimes. If I didn’t have countless servants and cleaners chasing me around and picking up after me, well, lets just say any visitor would think I was squatting in Durham House.”

She chucked at that. “Ok, suit yourself. It’s not much,” she stated as she moved into the living room/kitchen combo, picking up stray items, including a discarded pink bra and hiding them all behind her back. “The rent is cheap, well, relatively, and I don’t have to worry about the neighbours much. They’re quiet workaholics.”

Each wall was stark white but everywhere was dotted with vivid, colourful mismatched furniture that created a sharp contrast. It was also surprising to see this amount of colour in her living space when everything I’d ever seen her wear was plain and drab or frilly and misshapen. Apart from that black dress of course.

“I like it,” I said, turning toward her. The space was very homely and surprisingly her. “How come Frederick never set you up in one of the royal apartments closer to the office? You do know you’re entitled to that as a private secretary, right?”

“Oh, believe me he tried. He even said he’d subsidise half of the rent. But I like it here. It’s home… and its mine. You know what those apartments are like; I wouldn’t be able to hammer a nail in the wall or move the furniture around without going through five layers of red tape to get approval. No, this suits me just fine.”

I nodded. She had a point.

“So why are you here, Sir?” she asked softly, giving me a look. “Really. No bullshitting me.”

I shoved a hand through my hair, pissed off for being so transparent. She was right. I didn’t need to be here, I shouldn’t be here. “Honestly, I really don’t know, Sophie.”

She sighed. “I’m not sure I believe you. But while you’re here, have you eaten yet? I was just about to order some lunch.”

I shook my head no and she moved to the kitchen, picking up a takeout menu while I took a seat on her couch, grabbing for her TV remote. “Isn’t there a game on today?”

“Yes there’s a charity match at two,” she responded.

Surprised, I turned to face her. “Wait, you like rugby?”

She coloured. “Yeah… I’ve followed it on and off ever since I was a kid. Never been to a game though. Purely a couch-fan.”

I rose from my spot, pulling my mobile out of my pocket as I stood. “Get your coat. We’re going.”

“W-what? Where?” she asked, dropping the menu.

“Where do you think?”

“But tickets, they are surely sold out, aren’t they?”

I gave her a wink as I held the phone to my ear. “Not for me they aren’t.”

I pulled the hat low on my head as I watched the action on the field, the sights and sounds of the game clearly what I needed today. That and maybe something else.

I could have gotten us into the royal box on the fly, but resisted showing off; she already knew who I was and besides, I knew that Sophie would want to sit with the regular fans and not be gawked at. So I scored some decent last minute tickets from Graham, who knew a few people, and we took my car to the stadium, a forty minute drive away. Sophie hadn’t glanced at me once since the match started, but I was good with it. The excitement on her face was all I needed to see.

“No! What are you doing, you tosser? Are you a man or a mouse? Tackle him!”

“Holy crap,” I muttered under my breath. “Does your mother know you talk like that?” She ignored me and I grinned as she shouted at another player, surprised that such a big voice came out of such a little person. So far I had suffered groans, shouts, and the occasional grab on my arm when they did something really good or really bad, but damn I was enjoying it. This made it all worthwhile and why I’d bothered her on her day off.

She looked up and I saw anger in her eyes.

“You do know this is only a friendly match, right? Do I have to hold you back, cause I fear for that man’s life,” I teased.

Sophie threw up her hands. “I can’t believe he would do that. I mean, a blind person could see that the other guy was going down the line.”

“Maybe you should rethink your career,” I chuckled. She stuck her tongue out at me and turned her attention back to the field to watch the last few minutes of the match.

The clock ran out, our side winning and Sophie cheered with the rest of the crowd, clapping her hands before throwing her arms around me. “We won!”

I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around her, feeling her body against mine, torturing me. Fuck it.

Leaning down, I kissed her on the lips, feeling her surprise before her lips softened under mine and she was kissing me back. I moulded my lips to hers, tasting her as the crowd still cheered for the win, my hands roaming over her back lightly. She tasted as sweet as the victory itself.

People around us moved to the exit and she tore herself from me, as if she’d just realised what we’d done. Passion and confusion mixed in her eyes.

“Crap,” she muttered, fingers going to her mouth.

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that bad,” I said trying to make light of the situation.

“Sir… William,” she said softly, my name on her lips causing my cock to stand at attention even more. Then more forcefully added, “Why do you keep doing that? We can’t… I can’t be doing this.”

I looked around, the stadium still bustling with people and knew this wasn’t an appropriate place to be having this conversation. Anyone could overhear.

“Later, we’ll talk later,” I growled, grabbing her hand. She didn’t protest and we walked out still hand in hand, uncertainty between us. I was fucking torn between the need to respect the fact that I was her employer and her reluctance, not to mention the overwhelming need to have her. Normally I didn’t give a fuck, doing whatever I wanted to do and to hell with the consequences. But I couldn’t do that with Sophie. I wasn’t going to do that with Sophie.

We reached my car before she extricated her hand from mine, stepping back. “I think I should go home alone. I can take the tube.”

“Sophie,” I started before she shot me a look.

“Thank you for today, taking me to the match; I’ll never forget it. I really enjoyed myself but we both know this… this isn’t good between us. This can not and will not happen.”

“You’re fooling yourself, Sophie. You know it would be so, so good,” I urged, stepping closer. “Don’t be affected by the title. I’m still a man.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “I don’t care that you are a prince, a king in training.” I gave her a disbelieving look. “Ok, maybe a little bit but that’s not the point. You are my job, my responsibility to get you where you need to be. I can’t be involved with you. I can’t be the cause of a scandal.”

I believed her. She wasn’t starry-eyed over the fact that I was a royal. But her reasoning wasn’t enough for me to let it go. “I don’t care about scandals.”

“But I do! I will not be a footnote in history; that secretary who broke all the rules and brought shame to the royal office and the talk of the country or world. I will not let you blemish your future reign. Not over me.”

I tried to take her hand but she pulled away. “This is far from over, Sophie!”

“It has to be over,” she said.

“Hey! Leave her alone! Is he bothering you?” a thickset man said, his words slightly blurred with alcohol. His buddy, equally big and tall, joined him and they approached us with the full intent of protecting Sophie.

“Fuck off, this is none of your business!” I blurted. “Sophie, let’s just talk this out.”

“I don’t think she wants to,” the first man said, now standing between us.

“I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about,” Sophie said, pleading with the rugby fans to mind their own business as they started to square up at me. “Please, I’m ok.”

But before she could convince them otherwise and before I did something stupid, my fists clenched and eager for a fight, two synchronised figures moved in fast from out of nowhere and took down the big rugby fans. The newcomers, men in suits, barely exerted any effort at all rendering Sophie’s would be saviours immobile.

“Stay down! Don’t you fucking move asshole!”

“Oh no,” I heard her gasp. “Stop! They were just trying to help…” She shook her head at me and guilt swept through me. I hadn’t shaken my detail off after all. Had they always been there? And now Sophie was looking at me like I was the worst person in the world.

“Jesus, guys, you can let them up,” I said a little too late, turning my attention back to the writhing men on the floor. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

Meanwhile Sophie was turning to leave, her face downcast. “Soph, wait.”

“No, William. I’m going home. Don’t try to stop me.”

With that she walked off in the direction of the tube station as I stood rooted to the spot, compliant to her wishes. Her figure shrank in the distance and I shoved my hands into my pockets.

I wouldn’t let her go. She was mine and that was all there was to it.