Page 50 of Twelve Nights In The Prince's Bed

‘My job makes me happy,’ she said, stiffly.

‘You are a passionate, loving woman.’ He spoke with his quiet, trademark authority. Poppy squeezed her eyes shut. ‘You cannot—should not—continue to ignore that side of yourself.’

But how could he speak like this? So dispassionately? Without a hint of jealousy? When Poppy allowed herself the sadistic indulgence of imagining Adrastos with whichever woman would come after herself, she wanted to curl up in the foetal position and rock in the corner. Yet here he was, so blithely wishing her well with whomever she decided to sleep with next. Of all the insults!

And when they supposedly had five more days together!

Well, that was a hard no. Poppy couldn’t do this. She was strong and determined but she wasn’t so filled with self-loathing that she’d subject herself to this level of emotional torture.

‘I am, however, glad we have some more time together before you leave.’

Again, so calm. So reasonable. He could speak of her departure without even a hint of emotion. How deluded had she been to think, to hope, that he might actually care for her? That her feelings could be reciprocated?

Poppy could only be relieved that she hadn’t blurted out how she felt. That would be her secret, held close to her chest, something she never intended to tell another soul.

‘Actually...’ Her voice wobbled. She cleared her throat. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

She turned, faced him, did her best to breathe normally, to keep her features relaxed when inside she was a tangle of feelings and nerves. But this would be over soon. She’d say what she had to say, pack her bag and leave, and never look back.

Except shewouldlook back because this place was her home away from home and his family was her family. But she couldn’t think about that now, or she’d cry at the hopelessness of it all. Maybe it had been hopeless from that first kiss, from the moment they slept together. Maybe it always would have ended this way. She’d lied about the nature of their relationship to avoid hurting other people, but in the process she’d put herself right in the firing line.

Had it all been a mistake after all, just as he’d said?

Poppy had thought herself not a good liar. She hated dishonesty and always had. Yet, looking across the room at her fake boyfriend, she found her next fib came easily enough—a form of salvation. ‘My supervisor emailed to ask if I could start sooner. They’re desperate for staff to cover this case.’

He frowned. ‘It’s the holidays.’

She shrugged. ‘The bad guys don’t really care that much...’

He was quiet a moment. ‘I presume you can email back and say no?’

‘I could,’ she said breathlessly, wishing her heart wasn’t in such an awful state. ‘But I won’t. They need me, and I can’t—I don’t see why—isn’t this a good thing?’ she insisted with quiet strength, when she could think of nothing else to say. He stared at her without answering. ‘This gets you off the hook earlier. I’ll tell your parents about the job, and about us—how it makes sense to end things given I’m going to be in the Hague for the next three years at least.’

‘Three years,’ he responded, sitting up straighter, something briefly sparking between them before his expression returned to neutral. ‘You didn’t mention that.’

‘I’m going into a division that takes on long-term investigations. My project is forecast to take three years. I’m supervising a team of twenty—I have to be committed.’

‘You didn’t mention this,’ he repeated.

‘Is it relevant?’

He stared at her as though she were speaking in a foreign language. Poppy’s chest hurt. She needed to end this.

‘I’ll leave this morning,’ she said quietly. ‘And be on a flight out this afternoon, ready to start tomorrow. It’s the way it has to be.’

‘This makes no sense. You always spend the holidays here, the whole holidays.’

She blinked away from him, turning once more to the woods and craving instead the familiar view from her own room of the rose garden. There was too much of him in this space, this view. Too much masculine, wild, elemental power. ‘This year is different.’ Which was putting it mildly.

‘Are you saying that remaining here any longer will jeopardise your job?’

She turned slowly, her heart breaking. ‘I’m saying I’ve been asked to go sooner, and I intend to. Adrastos, think about it: if we weren’t in a fake relationship, if we weren’t pretending to be a couple, would you really care? Do you even really notice when I’m here and when I’m not?’ She took in a deep breath. ‘Of course not. Think of this as a get-out-of-jail-early card. I’m leaving, and in a few hours’ time you’ll be free to resume your life as though none of this ever happened. Isn’t that good news?’

‘Oh, Poppy, I’m so torn. Of course I’m proud of you, and happy for you, but I’m also—’

Poppy braced herself for what Clementine would say next, and the older woman’s gaze flitted to King Alexander, who sat in an armchair, watching both.

‘We’re disappointed,’ he said into the void. ‘We love you, and naturally we hoped you and Adrastos might progress from dating to something more serious. We cannot think of anyone we would rather welcome into the family as a daughter-in-law, nor anyone better suited to the requirements of the role.’

---