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Billionaires: The Royal


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“Really?”

      “Yes. A fact you should be grateful for, as he felt you were a bit too pretty to serve my needs.”

      Her face burned. But it wasn’t with anger, as it should have been. Well, there was a bit of anger, but also a wave of excitement that had no business being there. “I was not aware my looks had anything to do with whether or not I would be a qualified assistant.”

      “They don’t. Not to me. Though, I imagine his concerns center squarely around my younger brother, Andres, not me.”

      She was well educated on the royal family. Applying for a job at the palace without proper knowledge would be foolish. She was well familiar with Prince Andres and his reputation with women. She was also immune to such things. She was focused. She’d been accused of having tunnel vision by people who were nice, and of being frigid by people who weren’t. None of it bothered her. She had goals. And once she reached those goals she could expand her horizons. Until then, she would move on with a single-minded focus and make apologies to no one.

      No, Prince Andres didn’t concern her.

      The fact that some of her focus had splintered the moment she’d seen Prince Kairos concerned her a little bit. But that was an anomaly. Nothing to be concerned about. She would be back to normal as soon as she became accustomed to him, to the surroundings. Assuming she had a chance to do so.

      “There’s no need to be concerned,” she said.

      “You haven’t met him yet.”

      “I don’t need to meet him. I have not gotten as far as I have in my life by being silly, or easily seduced by princes. I’m here because this is not the kind of work experience that can be matched. I’m here because of what this will do for my résumé in the future. I’m not here to become the subject of tabloid gossip.”

      He smiled and the expression echoed in her stomach. “Then congratulations. I would like to hire you.” And there he stood, extending his hand.

      She stood as well, wrapping her fingers firmly around his, ignoring the zip of heat that passed between them. She had just told him that she had no desire to become tabloid fodder, and she would not be undermined by betraying the fact that his touch affected her.

      She buried it. Buried it down as deep as it would go.

      “Excellent.”

      “Very. If you’re ready, I can show you to your quarters.”

      * * *

      “Do you need me to escort you?”

      Tabitha blinked, coming back to the present sharply. “No. You can send my things up later. I’m assuming you had my things packed.”

      “No,” he said. “However, your room should be stocked with all the amenities you might require.”

      “Translated into direct English, please, rather than your particular brand of doublespeak.”

      “I called ahead. Clothing, makeup and other toiletries should be delivered shortly. To the room of your choosing. There are no servants in residence at this house, that’s part of the attraction to it.”

      “I wouldn’t know, as this is the first time I’ve ever been here.”

      “I haven’t been here since we were married, as you well know. I’ve been busy running the country.”

      “You’re right. I am well aware.”

      She turned away from him then and walked up the stairs, acutely aware of his dark gaze following her every move. She didn’t know why he should watch her with such attention now, when he had certainly never done so before.

      She stiffened her posture and continued on, as though she were completely unaware of his attentions. She’d spent a very long time pretending she didn’t notice how little he saw her. This should be no different.

      She scoffed when she reached the landing and looked down the expansive corridor. There were a dozen rooms on this floor, at least. He had made it sound different somehow. Talking about his room being at the end of the hall, saying there were no servants in residence. Still, she should have known that his family owned nothing modest.

      She selected the first door, if only because it would be the farthest away from him.

      It was white like the rest of the rooms in the house. A four-poster bed was at the center, with gauzy, pale fabric draped over the carved wooden spires. The floor was marble with a plush rug at the center. The only color was provided by a jade vase positioned on a table set against the far wall, with bright cheery crimson flowers bursting from it. She wanted to take the vase, and the flowers, and hurl it to the ground.

      Its very existence made her angry. As though it were trying to tell her she should be happy to be here. As though it were trying to prove that this was a wonderful, beautiful place.

      Most of all, it made her furious because she had to wonder if this was the only room that contained flowers. If her husband had known she would choose this one because of its proximity, or lack thereof, to his room.

      If he knew her so well, while not knowing her at all.

      Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was pregnant. Kairos had all but kidnapped her and brought her to an island. He wanted to negotiate, or terminate her parental rights.

      She stumbled over to the plush bed, sinking down onto the covers. She felt weighted down by despair, as though her clothing were woven together with thread fashioned from lead. She closed her eyes, letting the bed pull her in as her clothing pushed her down. Her head was swimming with thoughts, confused, present and distant. Mainly, though, as she drifted off, she thought of Kairos. Of the day he asked her to be more than his assistant.

      * * *

      “Two weeks, Tabitha. The wedding was to be in two weeks’ time. Now there is a video all over the internet of Francesca and Andres having my wedding night without me.” Kairos’s hands shook as he relayed the story, a glass of scotch in his hand, his normally completely cool demeanor fractured.

      His dark hair was disheveled as though he had been running his hands through it, his tie loosened. She had so rarely seen her enigmatic boss appearing to be anything beyond perfectly composed that Tabitha’s resolve, built over the past three years of working for him, was tested. And was failing.

      She had become accustomed to the taciturn man who walked into his office in the morning, barking orders, setting about the workday with efficiency that was swift, brutal and beautiful to behold.

      This man, this man who seemed tested beyond his limits, was a stranger to her. Brought her right back to square one.

      “What are you going to do?” she asked.

      “You’re my personal assistant, I thought you might assist me.”

      She laughed, her stomach tightening. “Well, cheating fiancées and doomed royal weddings aren’t really my forte.”

      “I thought everything was your forte,” he said, treating her to a look that burned her down to her toes.

      “After the wedding I’m leaving. You’re going to have another assistant. You’re going to have to get a little bit more self-sufficient.” It was probably the wrong time to bring that up, but she felt somewhat desolate about it. But she was done with university now, she had a business degree and had achieved most of it remotely while acting as Kairos’s assistant, a special privilege given to her since she’d been selected for the job.

      She should be excited. Looking forward to the change this would bring. To the advantage she would have with a degree from a prestigious school and three years of work experience for the royal family of Petras.

      Instead, she felt as though she was being ripped away from her home. Felt as though she would be leaving a part of herself behind.

      “I don’t want another assistant,” he said, his voice rough.

      “That’s