Chapter 23 #2
“Ramsey,” I said as patiently as I knew how, which admittedly wasn’t much, “Prince James has made it clear he is a devout follower of Vuheia since the very second he entered this palace.”
Enlightenment dawned on the man’s face as he mouthed a silent oh. “Nimus bless. No wonder he responded so strongly, then.”
“They will forever butt heads if she even suggests that not all human life is equal. I know she’s not a particularly religious person, but try to get it through her head, will you?
Tell her I’ve seen this man visit Vuheia’s temple, wear her symbol, and the maids tell me he even has Vuheia’s symbol hanging above his bed.
He will not take kindly to anyone telling him to ignore his goddess’s teachings. ”
“Absolutely understood. She might not apologize, but hopefully she’ll be smart enough to back down.”
I resisted the urge to glance down and check with Prince James to see if that was good enough. He could tell me later. “Hopefully it will. Go home, Ramsey. You’ve been here too long today.”
He groaned and turned toward the door. “I know it.”
I didn’t breathe easy until he’d left, the door shut behind him.
Prince James picked up his teacup as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Which told me something, right there. I leaned down enough to meet his eyes.
“Will that suffice?”
“Of course,” he responded before slurping tea. “As long as she drops the subject and doesn’t treat people like insects in front of me. I know she’s too stubborn to change her ways, but I don’t want her trying to mold me into her belief system.”
“Fair enough.”
Time to get this work done. His signature might be needed on a few things in this pile, so if I had him, I’d use him before he fell asleep. Even if he was in his blanket fort.
I bent to the tasks at hand, clearing one thing at a time, most of them going into my outbox, with some of them set aside to hand off to Jo Ann. I ran across one thing just waiting on a signature and promptly passed it downward.
“Excuse you,” Prince James retorted, not even attempting to take the file, “I am hiding from work right now. That thing in your hand? That’s a no.”
I waggled it. “Good little boys who sign things get cookies.”
“How dare! You’re withholding cookies from me?”
I waggled it some more. “I’ve got another orange citrus bar up here too.”
“Dammit, how dare you use my weakness against me.”
He took the file from my hand and I grinned. What a lovely system this was developing into. A second later, he passed it back to me and I exchanged it for the orange citrus bar. I applied the seal to the bottom of the document, setting it aside so the wax could harden. There, one more down.
Next.
Time passed in companionable silence. I did find two other things needing a signature, and Prince James didn’t argue this time. File. Cookie. File. Cookie. An easy exchange.
Hmm, everything else appeared to be nonurgent, weekly housekeeping tasks I could deal with tomorrow.
I put my hands over my head and stretched, getting the kinks out.
The clock sitting on my desk informed me the time was a quarter to nine, so my estimation hadn’t been too far off.
I probably could have done it faster if not for interruptions, but oh well.
Speaking of, Interruption No. 1 was suspiciously quiet and had been for a while. I ducked my head down to check on him.
Awww. He was asleep. He looked strangely cute asleep, like a dangerous wolf tuckered out from hunting and now curled up for a well-deserved nap. I had no desire to actually wake him up, mind you, because he was still a wolf no matter the cuteness. I unfortunately had to.
Reason one being he’d wake up in a very awkward situation tomorrow morning, which made for a grumpy boss. No, thank you.
Reason two being he’d have quite the crick in his neck and back if he slept there all night. I was also afraid he wouldn’t sleep well under the desk, because how could he, all scrunched up? I wanted him to sleep well, which meant moving him to his actual bed.
Ugh, waking him up wasn’t going to be pleasant either. Must I?
Man up, me. Leaving him here to sleep would definitely be worse.
Waking him up right now was the lesser of the two evils.
Besides, who knew? Maybe he wasn’t a complete grouch upon awakening.
I’d honestly not know. I hadn’t been the one waking him.
Come to think of it, even on the trip we took together, he got himself up.
It was incredibly rare for royalty to take responsibility for themselves, but James had already proven he wasn’t like other royalty, so that shouldn’t surprise anyone.
I almost woke him when an impulse seized me.
Instead, I grabbed a clipboard and pen and sketched him out.
For some reason, I felt compelled to preserve the cuteness of this moment, no matter the media.
Time ticked away; I didn’t feel like I should be at this sketch the rest of the night, so I just did the outlines of the blanket, the pillow, nothing more than their impressions.
Even his hand, I didn’t linger on. Instead, I focused on the man’s face, the way his hair fell like a curtain over his neck.
The more I focused there, the more the realization set in that I really was attracted to him. I wouldn’t be drawing him otherwise.
Nimus preserve me. Not the best idea, me. If you must be attracted to your boss, leave it at attracted and hope it dies down. Absolutely do not fall in love with him, got it?
Hopefully I was listening.
Although would that be so bad? It was never a good idea to date a boss, or so the saying went, and even less of a smart decision to date royalty.
But Prince James wasn’t your typical royal, either.
I believed down to my bones Prince James saw me as an equal.
He’d proven he would put his money where his mouth was.
So really, would it be so dangerous, so ill-advised, to date him?
My attraction was apparently willing to ambush and undermine my common sense.
I shook the thought off and focused on my sketch. If I got caught, it would make an awkward situation that much more embarrassing, so let’s not.
Okay, I couldn’t do more to this sketch without entering we’ll-be-here-all-night territory. I opened my bottom drawer, the one with a lock, and slid the drawing in there. I’d smuggle it out later. Right now, I was about to have my hands full.
All right. Let’s try this.
I scooted my chair back and knelt, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t even startle when I touched him.
I pitied him, I did. Right now, Prince James was this marvelously fun toy everyone wanted to play with.
All the other nobles wanted to meet him and curry his favor.
Princess Helena for once had a reliable older brother and capitalized on his influence every chance she got.
The queen and king viewed him as the son they wished they’d had and showed him off at every opportunity.
Plus, he’d taken over all the duties Prince Victor and Prince Royce had failed to accomplish and pushed forward his own projects at the same time.
This on top of all the nightmares he battled.
Of course he was tired. It’d be stranger if he wasn’t.
I put more energy into shaking him. “Prince James?”
Eyelids fluttered open. Very slowly, clearly taking effort.
Not wanting him to slip back into slumber, I shook him again. “Prince James, you can’t sleep here any longer. You must go to your own bed now.”
“Unnnngh, why?” He groaned and tried to snuggle back into the pillow.
Do not give in to the cuteness. Resist. Resist, dammit!
“A warm, soft bed awaits you,” I coaxed, shaking again. “Come on, you don’t want to stay in such a cramped place. Come on, come out.”
There was much grumbling, snuffling noises, the works, but he finally did crawl out. I kept a hand under his arm to help pull him, which was to my benefit, as he almost gave up and crawled back under. Never mind tired, this man was past exhausted. He was about as awake as a growing child right now.
Even standing, his eyes weren’t really open, and I feared shoving him toward his own rooms wouldn’t end well. He’d likely find some other flat spot and immediately make use of it.
I better take him to his rooms myself. I got his arm around my shoulders, my arm around his waist, and towed him along. He went quite amiably, shuffling along and not at all belligerent. Which surprised me. If you got me this tired, I was worse than a sick hedgehog.
No one frequented this area of the palace at this hour of the night.
If there was a formal dinner or a soiree or something going on, it would be happening in the main palace, not the auxiliary wing, which had been given over to Prince James for his exclusive use.
He’d done many a thing to make the area more personable, more convenient for everyone else, including adding a rather sizable break room, training yard for his knights, and several overnight rooms for us to stay in if the hour got too late and we didn’t already have our own room.
Fortunately, his room was only a five-minute walk, and I had him there without any fuss or bother. No one attended the door—rather odd, come to think of it, someone should have been on hand—so I opened it and walked him through.
Well, no one was about, so I supposed getting him into bed was on me. I’d just take off his jacket and shoes, pour him onto the mattress, and he’d sleep fine. I think.
Using some dexterity, I got the covers turned down, then sat him on the edge of the bed. “All right, jacket off.”
He cooperated as I tugged on a sleeve, eyes still not properly open.
“Edwin,” he said with this happy little smile, “you’re handsome.”
I…beg your fucking pardon? I was nice looking, but handsome? I’d never in my life been accused of being handsome. Also, rich, coming from someone absolutely fucking gorgeous.