Page 4 of The King's Secret Baby

I freeze, still crouched on all fours. Slowly, I look over my shoulder. Prince Luca is standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised as he surveys the mess I’ve made. Our eyes meet and heat rushes to my cheeks.

With as much dignity as I can muster, I get to my feet. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry about this.” I tug on my skirt, willing my hands not to shake as I offer one to him.

“Ms. Warren, I presume?” He takes my hand, shaking it briefly.

Up close he’s even more handsome than in photos, with sharp blue eyes and artfully tousled blond hair. But his expression is aloof, almost bored. Clearly he doesn’t want to be here.

I clear my throat, adopting a bright tone. “Yes, thank you for meeting with me today.” Time to turn on the charm. I can still salvage this interview. “Shall we have a seat and get started?”

I gesture to the plush chairs arranged by the window, hoping he doesn’t notice my nervousness. He nods, taking a seat. I perch across from him, adjusting my skirt again before opening my recording app.

“I hope your time in New York has been good so far.” I work up a smile, trying to not stare at the way his suit jacket perfectly fits his strong shoulders.

He languidly crosses one leg over the other, inspecting his cufflinks. “It’s been… okay.” His response lacks enthusiasm.

I plaster a smile on my face, hoping my disappointment doesn’t show. Not the most enlightening answer. “That’s good to hear,” I reply, striving for upbeat.

He says nothing. Just looks out the window.

I clear my throat. “I thought we’d begin by discussing your future as heir to the throne of Werdenfeld. What are your plans and vision once you take the crown?”

Luca’s expression shutters. “I don’t expect to inherit the throne for many years. My father is in excellent health.”

“Of course,” I say quickly. “But the people are eager to know what kind of leader you’ll be.”

He frowns. “I have no interest in speculating so far in advance.”

I blink, surprised by his abrupt tone. This isn’t going as I envisioned. Time for a new tactic.

“All right, let’s discuss your recent philanthropy efforts, then. The shelter you opened for homeless youths was wonderfully received.”

Again, he shuts down my line of questioning. “That project was mainly my advisor’s doing. I simply provided funding.”

I grip my phone tighter, frustration mounting. Why is he being so difficult? He’s making this impossible. There must be something that interests him, some way to draw him out. I need to getsomethingusable from this interview.

“Your Highness, what motivates you? What are your passions?” I ask gently.

For the first time, he meets my eyes. They’re a striking blue, but stormy. “I prefer keeping my personal interests private.”

I bite my lip. The interview is slipping away from me. Maybe if I turn on the charm…

I lean forward, softening my tone. “Your Highness, I understand wanting privacy. But the people are eager to truly know the future sovereign of your country. Please, help me show them the real you.”

His expression remains closed. “With all due respect, my duties do not include baring my soul for the press. I’ve cooperated out of courtesy to your publication, but I believe we’re done here.”

Finished? What is he talking about? We just got started.

And yet, he stands abruptly, taking the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had with him. I jump up too, desperation clawing at me.

“Please, just a few more minutes,” I say, hating the pleading note in my voice. “Tell me about your childhood, your interests — anything.”

God, I sound pathetic. It’s like I can’t stop myself, though. The words are coming up like vomit, with me unable to do anything about it.

He pauses, something flickering in those blue eyes. But then it’s gone. “I’m afraid I have nothing further to discuss. Thank you for your time.”

With that, he turns and strides from the room, leaving me standing there, stunned. The door clicks shut behind him with dreadful finality.

I sink back into my chair, staring blankly at the phone in my hand. The interview I’ve been waiting weeks for, my chance to impress my editor, has crashed and burned. I don’t have a single usable quote. After all that anticipation, I’ve failed completely.

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