Page 12 of Prince She Shouldn't Crave
‘The suit is mustard. The coat appears…shaggy.’
‘But the look’s stylish, even with all the colour, and shagginess as you put it. Which isn’t really shaggy. It’s mohair. And extremely expensive.’
He reached out and put his half-empty coffee cup down on the tabletop with a little bit too solid a thump. ‘Costdoes notequal taste.’
‘But colour. A little more casual. All I’m trying to show you is that you can still look extremely stylish and…and…princely. I’m sure that your valet would be able to sort something out.’
‘Pieter would resign if he thought I’d wear this. Or call a doctor to see if I was coming down with something.’
‘But you can’t wear suits all the time. What do you wear when you’re not working? When you’re in your apartments just being…you? When you’re…off the clock?’
His whole demeanour rankled. Sure, she needed the job, but she was also overwhelmed with the need to keep pushing, to get a hint of who he really was. And all she could hear was a voice in her ear from her mother that a woman should be an oasis. Still and deep. Welcoming. Somewhere that encouraged a man tostay. Even though her mother had been calm and cool like an oasis, her father had never stayed for long. Always going back to his real family.
Being an oasis was clearly not all that it was cracked up to be.
His Highness’s eyes narrowed and once again she had the uncomfortable sensation of being skewered.
‘I am never “off the clock”, as you put it. I’m always available to help run the country. As for the rest, that’s walking into personal territory you do not have permission to tread.’
‘I understand, but you gave me a job. On probation if you recall. I want to make it something permanent. But I can only do that if you work with me a bit, or at least tell me what’s off-limits.’
‘I’ll ensure you have a list of off-limits topics by later this morning, so you can study it at leisure.’
He looked at his watch and Lena sensed that he wanted to go. Her and her darned mouth. She needed to stop arguing with the man and regroup. ‘I’m guessing that’s all to be said on that topic, Your Highness?’
‘Yes. You’re free to leave.’
So, she was being dismissed. Back to square one, then. She stood and curtseyed even though he’d told her not to, then turned and began to walk towards the door leading back inside.
‘Ms Rosetti?’
She turned and her breath snagged right in her throat. Once again, he was lit up by the sunshine that seemed to love him so much.
‘Sir?’
‘You haven’t impressed me yet.’
Whilst Gabriel understood there was a certain amount of pomp and ceremony surrounding his role as prince, there was something about today that felt off. The meeting with his father had disturbed his usual early morning routine. Even worse was the King’s attempt at giving advice, which was unwanted and unneeded. A fact that Gabriel had made very plain. Still, it was as if part of him didn’t slot into place. He sat in the back of a large dark-coloured car with fluttering flags travelling behinda police escort. Usually, strangers believed he wanted to travel alone. However, he saw it as wasteful in both time and resources to have a procession of vehicles, one carrying him and the other carrying staff. He liked to spend the journey to any function preparing with his team. Talking, strategising. Yet today was a private function at the palace with Lauritania’s King and Queen. The only person he had travelling with him was Lena. To take more photographs.
Perhaps that was what felt off. In this enclosed space with someone still unfamiliar, whereas his other staff had been with him for years. She hadn’t spoken much apart from pleasantries, especially not after their conversation earlier about his clothes, where, if he was honest with himself, he might have been a little unfair.
Still, looking at Lena now, he thought she could hardly profess to be expert in all things casual and appealing to ‘younger people’. Today she was dressed in a conservative black dress. High neck, skirt below the knee. It could have looked like a nun’s habit except for the three-quarter sleeves showing her golden skin, and the way the dress seemed to perfectly shape to her body. Her hair in a bun that attempted to look tidy. However, dark stray hairs fell out of it, framing her face. Making her look soft, approachable. She wasn’t paying attention to him, looking down at her phone, intent. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss on what to say. He simply watched her, nibbling on her lower lip as though she was concentrating.
As if she knew his gaze was on her, Lena blew away an errant strand of hair and looked up at him.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said. That didn’t bode well. She’d been thinking when she suggested changes to his wardrobe as well.
‘Indeed.’
‘Have you ever considered having a meeting with business leaders in a more casual environment?’
Most of the time those kinds of meetings took place in a stultifying boardroom somewhere with PowerPoint presentations that flicked across the screen too fast for him to take in, and poisonously bad coffee.
‘You have something else in mind?’
‘I’ve heard you’ve been trying to fit in a meeting with the international youth mental health forum whilst you’re here. I know you go for a run early, before breakfast—’
‘How do you know that?’
