Chapter 9 – Marcella #2
“See. I knew I’d wear you down. That didn’t even take much work.” His eyes glint with triumph and something else. He was baiting me, and he won. “The way you say my name…your voice…not much of an accent that time.”
Oh god. It’s the first time I’ve said it since that night, and a trickle of fear hits me because I knew that’s why he wanted me to say it, and I fell into his trap.
I straighten my spine and meet his gaze. “Your Highness,” I emphasize. “I’m not sure what else—”
He sits back, crossing his legs at the knee as if he’s settling in for a long chat. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Pardon? I don’t see how that’s pertinent to anything.”
His hand twists through the air, encouraging an answer. “Humor me.”
“Salad.”
His eyebrows bounce in surprise. “Salad?”
I arch an eyebrow in return. “You’re rating my answer.”
“When your answer is salad, I am.”
“Sorry it’s not lobster, Your Highness. We grow fresh vegetables on our farm.”
He laughs and points at his chest. “You’re rating my censure?”
I puff out a relieved breath, and with it, some of the tension that’s been sitting on my shoulders since I walked into the breakfast room ebbs.
I know how to do this. How to be tactical.
Patient. Read my opponent. If I want to survive here, survive him, and do what needs to be done, then I have to keep my boundaries.
Maintain my facade. Even when he seems to have some obscure way of cracking it without much effort at all.
Just as he said.
“Yup.”
“Fine. Salad is your favorite food. Boring.” He exaggeratedly yawns. “Moving on. How many siblings do you have?”
The answer flies past my lips from practiced memory. “Three. Two older brothers and an older sister.”
“What’s your favorite book?”
“I don’t have time to read for pleasure.”
He swipes his thumb along his bottom lip. I have no idea what that move is, but it’s unfortunately as entrancing as the rest of him.
“What do you do for fun?”
I laugh. It comes out as sardonic as the last one. “Again, sir, I don’t have much time for fun.”
“Humor me.”
What these questions have to do with anything, I have no clue. I try not to shift, but he’s rubbing at me. I don’t like answering personal questions, and I never practice bullshit ones related to my character.
I do my best to maintain my polite, professional disposition, but I’m struggling, and he knows it. I tug down the end of my ugly dress as I recross my legs. “I go for long walks, play chess, or swim.”
“Again boring.”
I try so hard not to roll my eyes. “Yes, Your Highness, I’m sure compared to you, my life is rather boring.”
His lips twitch. “That sounded like sarcasm.”
“Not at all. It’s the truth.”
“Fine. How old are you?”
I squint at him. “Twenty-three.”
Except the moment I say it, I instantly regret it. Especially when he comes back at me with…
“I’m thirty-three.”
“Yes, sir. Though I don’t think our age difference matters all that much.”
His playful and cocky demeanor shifts, turning frosty.
Almost hostile while his bright blue eyes sharpen as if all of that between us was a game I just lost. I realize all his banter, his teasing comments, his flirting are all a ruse.
A weapon he uses to disarm and hide what truly lurks beneath his charming smile and handsome face.
“Did you already know that?”
My pulse thrums in my neck and palm. “Yes, sir. I did.”
“Thought so. What else do you know about me, Marcella?”
Jesus. This guy. I hate the way he says my name.
I know how you smell. How you kiss. How you fuck. How you feel. How you look when you come. I know that you’re the most dangerous entity to my being here, and therefore, I need to stay far away from you.
“Not much else, sir. Only what’s public knowledge.”
He looks eerily calm. “If you say so, though something about you makes me believe you know a hell of a lot more about everything than you let on.”
I sit up straighter, my expression and tone even. “I don’t believe that to be true.”
He’s silent for a long moment, his eyes all over my face and body as if he’s trying to see through me and find my secrets.
“You’re all business, and I respect that.
You tell us you’ll do a good job, and I’m inclined to believe you because I know and trust Emily, and she wouldn’t have put you up for the position and given it to you if you didn’t.
That said, you should know I’m all business too.
You’re a citizen of this country, so you’re aware of what the former prime minister tried to do to the king and queen.
You’ve also been in this palace long enough that I have no doubt you know about our last nanny.
Hell, you likely met her once or twice.”
“I did.”
“And do you know what she did?”
“Yes, sir.”
He leans forward, planting his elbows on his thighs as he levels me with his cold stare. “Good. Then you can imagine what little trust I have in anyone in a position to interact regularly with my family and the need for constant scrutiny and oversight.”
I bite back my smile. Not just a pretty face, Prince Rowan has a set of balls and knows how to dole out pretty-worded threats.
I fold my hands on my lap. “I understand that, sir, and you have no reason to trust me. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me either. But that doesn’t mean I’m not excellent at my job and can earn your trust in due course.”
He stands, and an unsettling silence descends between us. Finally, he speaks, his tone chilling. “Then I guess you just won yourself a promotion. Get used to seeing me, Marcella, because I sure as hell plan to watch you.”