Page 49 of Guarded King

“There’ll be a few speeches and an auction. Then plenty of free drinks, delicious food, and dancing. Not to mention all the men dressed up in tuxedos.” She wiggles her brows at me.

Immediately, a picture of Roman in a fitted black tuxedo floats through my head, and my face heats.

Sophie leans closer. “Exactly. It will feed your fantasies for the rest of the year.” With a wink, she heads toward her desk outside Tate’s office.

I continue to my own, and once I’m sitting, I pull up the email for the gala. It looks like I’ve got ten weeks to find a dress and line Susan up to look in on Dad for the evening.

Smiling at the thought of a night out on the town, I pull up the file I’m working on and start updating it.

I’m on a roll, lost in my work a few hours later, when Roman appears at his office door. “Chloe, I need you in here, please.” He turns on his heel without waiting for a response and disappears.

When I find myself running my fingers through my hair, I roll my eyes again. This time at myself. Despite what Sophie says, Roman doesn’t care what I look like. Since that moment at the doctor’s office, he’s gone back to being strictly professional.

Still, as I take my seat in front of his desk, aware of how his attention is fixed on me, I’m overly conscious of the way I sit, of the way my clothes fit my body, the way my breaths are coming a little faster than warranted.

“There’s a major international green technology expo being held in Nice, France, in two weeks,” he says. “I’ve been invited to make a speech on the King Group’s integration of green technologies. And EcoTech will be showcasing some of their latest innovations. I’d like to arrange a meeting with the CEO while we’re there. It’ll be an excellent opportunity to bolster our bid to acquire them.”

“Okay,” I say, tapping out notes on my tablet. “If you give me the details, I’ll make the bookings for you.”

He nods. “The plan will be to fly in early the first morning, stay one night, and leave after my speech on the second day. Make sure you book our rooms on the same floor.”

My gaze shoots up to meet his.Our? Are his brothers attending with him. Or does he mean… him and me?

I’m still blinking at him in confusion when a hint of humor curls his lips. “There’ll be a lot going on while we’re there. I’ll need you to keep track of meetings and itinerary changes, as well as take notes and attend some of the talks and demonstrations I can’t make it to.”

He wants me to go toFrancewith him?

The thought of flying overseas and staying the night at a hotel with him sends a swift rush of blood through my veins. It heats my skin, but with any luck, doesn’t turn it pink. The last thing I want is for him to know the idea flusters me.

“You do have your passport, don’t you?”

“Yes. I went to Canada for a week with my friend a few years back.” Thank god Lola insisted we go for a quick girls’ trip before she got married.

One dark brow rises. “And that’s the only time you’ve been out of the country?”

I purse my lips. “Apart from that all-expenses paid trip to Europe that I went on in my vast amount of spare time last year, you mean?”

That seductive mouth quirks. “That didn’t come out the right way. It wasn’t a criticism.” His expression turns serious. “I understand the position you’ve been in, and I realize you probably haven’t had the time or means to travel.” He assesses me, his jaw working. “Looking after your dad the way you have been, it’s… admirable. I was wrong to believe you were too young to do this job effectively. I underestimated you—your dedication. I won’t do it again.”

My pulse stumbles, then quickens as I process his admission. “Th-thank you.”

He clears his throat, drumming his fingers on his desk. “How is your dad anyway?”

A genuine smile creeps across my face. “He’s doing okay. I’ve been able to take him out more since they finally fixed our elevator. It’s been out of order for months, so getting up and down the stairs has been tough for him. And he’ll start a new treatment soon. With any luck, it’ll help.”

His fingers pause mid-tap, his expression flickering for a moment, something unreadable passing over it. It’s gone too quickly for me to catch, replaced by his usual composed demeanor.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says evenly. “Can I ask who takes care of your dad when you work overtime?”

“I pay a neighbor to look in on him.” A sudden thought occurs to me, and I rush to add, “If you’re concerned I won’t be able to travel with you, I can make sure?—”

“No. I’m not concerned. And I don’t want you to be either. Since you’ll be accompanying me for business and may need to work significant overtime in the future, the King Group will provide a home care nurse to help with your father.”

The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and I gape at him. “But that’s… Do you mean under the company health insurance? It doesn’t cover parents. I checked when I started here.”

He frowns. “Sounds like we need to make a change to that. But no, what I mean is that since I need you to be available at all times, I don’t want you to have to rely on your neighbor’s availability, I’ll have your employment contract modified to include provision of care.”

My heart pumps so hard, I’m suddenly lightheaded. Is he seriously offering to have the company pay for someone to look after Dad? A trained professional at that? A nurse who is much more likely to be sympathetic, who’ll treat him with care? I should protest. Tell him I don’t need charity. But I refuse to let my pride get in the way of anything that will help Dad.

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