Page 8 of Royal Affair
The ride was awkward and tense too.
"Before you open the door, I have a few rules of my own, Princess," he suddenly said when I was searching for my keys. Luckily, the only access to my floor was through the lift, and for that a special code was required. Dara had thoroughly briefed James on the access codes, but I suspected he'd demanded extra security measures be put in place. I lifted my head to face him, raising my eyebrows.
Here we go… I thought, giving him a fake smile.
"I'm listening, Mr. Banks," I said. He took a few steps towards me, yet again being too close to me. I caught his cologne scent, which sent a shiver down my spine.
We have meticulously planned your daily itinerary for your protection. "Your cooperation isn't optional, Princess. Your life depends on it."
I nodded and opened the door, remembering the last letter that had arrived just days before James's arrival. Unlike the others, it contained specific details about my daily routines, my yoga schedule, even my favorite coffee shop near campus.Someone was watching me closely, and maybe - just maybe - James's paranoia was justified. This was going to be the longest a few months of my life.
Chapter Five
James
Iwas forcing myself to stay quiet when she showed me around the penthouse. Evangeline had the entire floor for herself with a huge terrace that overlooked the old city. The expansive two-bedroom apartment featured floor-to-ceiling windows, minimal security features, and multiple access points. I didn't know who signed off on her living here but it was a huge mistake. It was a security nightmare, and I hoped that after the year was over she would either move or go back to Bellavista.
She led me down a short hallway lined with framed photos of animals—mostly horses and dogs—to my room. It was a modest space with a queen bed, desk, and private bathroom. The penthouse was smaller than I'd expected, and from very early on I understood we were going to be forced to be close to each other. There was no way I could just avoid her like I was planning in the beginning.
My security assessment was grim. Decent protocols were present in the building, but they wouldn't stop a determined threat. However, the emergency stairwell could be accessed with minimal effort, unlike the elevator that needed a keycard. Proper reinforcement was missing from the balcony doors. Three large windows faced neighboring buildings—perfect vantage points for surveillance or worse.
I maintained my professional demeanor, but inwardly I was cataloging every vulnerability. She looked tense when I gave her the list of my rules but that didn't change the fact that she had to follow the protocol. The death threats were serious—the latest one had included details of her private schedule and a photo taken through a window. Whoever was sending them had inside access or sophisticated surveillance capabilities. I was planning to reach out to certain people to get me closer to the individual that was sending them out.
Later that evening Evangeline made dinner for herself. We still hadn't discussed how our daily routines were going to look like. I hoped that Dara would have filled me in but she said that I had to talk to Evangeline about it and so far we didn't have the opportunity to do it.
The bedroom felt too isolated from the main living areas for security purposes, so I decided to put my laptop on the kitchen countertop where I could monitor the apartment's entrances. However, trying to concentrate on my tasks while she moved around, humming to herself as she cooked, proved more distracting than I'd anticipated. I had never had any client like her, sure I had dealt with a few supermodels and other celebrities but I always stayed in the shadow. Their houses were always huge and I had my own kitchen.
My focus kept slipping as she hummed some upbeat tune, adding ingredients to a pan with practiced ease. The domestic scene felt foreign to me. Most of my clients barely acknowledged my existence.
"Right, I think it's time for us to talk about my rules, Mr. Banks, since you're going to live here. Am I safe to assume that we are going to eat together like a couple?" She suddenlyasked and I nearly choked on the water that I was drinking. She looked beautiful wearing that white flowery dress and pink apron around her hips, so distractingly attractive that I felt my body responding against my will. I started coughing for several long seconds while she stared at me. Something smelled nice and I was hungry. I had brought food in the car but the sandwich was very dry while the princess ate some sort of salad that looked like something she didn't enjoy eating.
She looked amused when I finally managed to stop the coughing fit and look at her properly. I was in trouble. She was standing there smiling from ear to ear, barefoot in that summer dress that didn't leave much to the imagination. I cleared my throat and then closed the laptop.
"I suppose we do have to have this conversation," I grumbled.
"You don't like talking much, Mr. Banks, right?" she asked, those blue eyes studying me with open curiosity.
"No, I don't want to waste my breath on anything unnecessary if I can help it," I replied. I kept my face expressionless, the way I always did.
"I see, well I talk a lot so you might have to get used to it for the time being," she said and quickly added, "I like to cook a lot, but sometimes I don't get a chance as this year is going to be very busy. I only have one kitchen and as long as you're not fussy then I don't mind making a bigger portion."
"Princess, I can take care of myself, I don't want to put you out," I said, slightly annoyed that she was so happy all of a sudden. The contrast to her earlier frostiness was jarring. I must have really pissed her off earlier, but at the same time I didn't know why this bothered me all of a sudden.
"That's complete nonsense, why would you put me out? I enjoy cooking very much, so stop being so grumpy and come over here to try the stir fry that I prepared," she ordered, hertone firm. She lost her smile and continued to stare at me, holding my gaze. No one had ordered me around before, not even my mother, so this was a first. "Trust me, you don't want me in a bad mood, plus you have to call me Evangeline or Eva, so we are not so formal."
Her directness caught me off guard. Most people found me intimidating, but she didn't seem fazed in the slightest.
I didn't know why I got up and went to her, but Evangeline was like a magnet. I wanted to be near her, besides I was damn starving so I took the fork from her hand. Our fingers brushed and a jolt of heat flooded my groin. The food tasted good, amazing even if I had to be particular, and I wanted more.
"It's good, Evangeline," I told her, standing so close and feeling my body respond to her proximity. Every instinct told me to back away, to maintain professional distance, but I remained rooted to the spot. This was a bad idea, very bad idea, but I liked staring at her. It seemed that whenever we were around each other the air was charged with electric current. She beamed and then started serving both of us portions.
I followed her when she carried her plate to the table by the huge window from where we could see the old town. We sat opposite each other and started to eat. The woman could cook—the stir fry was perfectly seasoned with just the right amount of spice. Against my better judgment, I was enjoying myself. Although I didn't want to take advantage of this whole situation, I was happy if she fed me daily. For a long moment we ate in silence while I thought about the ways I could make this penthouse more secure.
"Tell me more about yourself, James. If we are going to be so close to each other, it's better if we get to know each other better," she said, throwing me off my thoughts once again.
"That's not necessary, this is just a professional arrangement. It's better if we keep things simple," I said, needing to putsome distance between us. Talking about my family or the army was something that I didn't do for various reasons. When Evangeline's face fell slightly, I was suddenly very irritated with myself for being the cause of it, so I cleared my throat again. "But if you must know, I have three brothers and they are all pretty well known in the UK. My oldest brother is the PM."
This time Evangeline dropped her fork as she stared at me with wide eyes.
