Chapter 8 #2
"I've been wondering lately if I gave up on that relationship too easily. He was kind, you know, and he understood the pressures of my world. His father being an ambassador meant he knew about protocol, about duty..."
I let my voice trail off, studying James's profile. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
"You know, I dated someone before coming to university.
Frederick was his name—his father is the ambassador to Spain.
At first, Queen Sophia thought we would be a good match.
" I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, watching James from beneath my lashes.
"We went to official dinners together, and we were often so bored.
Everyone was staring at us, so one night when we were just about to leave for another tedious function, Frederick took my hand and before I knew it, he had called us a taxi. "
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice.
"We went to a nightclub in the city. The music was so loud I could feel it in my chest. Frederick pulled me close on the dance floor.
.." I paused deliberately. This time James didn't lift his head, but his fingers froze over the keyboard.
His shoulders bunched under his tailored suit jacket, a muscle in his jaw jumping visibly.
The pen beside his laptop rolled to the floor, but he didn't move to pick it up.
The air between us thickened, charged with something dangerous and electric.
"We dated for almost a year. it fell apart; he was always at business meetings, always travelling. Being a successful businessman took precedence over everything else…including me." I added, observing James. His jaw clenched slightly, and I could see the muscles working beneath his skin.
"Anyway, I just wanted you to know about my dating history, because I had some good times with Frederick.
He was kind, adventurous, and he looked after me well—at least in the beginning," I added, then continued with my fabricated plan.
"Perhaps I should ring him. See if he's still interested.
It might be nice to have someone who understands, especially after everything that's happened recently. "
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I needed to see his reaction. I needed to know whether this tension between us was real or just my imagination.
I kept scrolling through my phone, waiting for James to say something to me, and when he didn't, I glanced up, seeing that he was no longer paying attention to his computer as he was looking directly at me.
"What's the matter, Mr. Banks?" I asked innocently, my heart racing as his eyes locked onto mine.
A storm brewed in those grey depths, turning them almost black.
His knuckles whitened around his pen, and though his face remained composed, his breathing had changed—deeper, more measured, as though he was fighting for control.
"Listen, Princess," he growled, rising from his chair in one fluid motion. His laptop snapped shut—abandoning his security monitoring for the first time I'd ever seen — he moved around the table towards me, each step deliberate and predatory.
I remained seated, forcing myself to appear calm even as my pulse quickened. "I'm listening, Mr. Banks."
He leaned down, gripping the edges of my chair, effectively trapping me. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something uniquely masculine—occupied my senses. "I know exactly what you're doing."
"And what exactly am I doing?" I challenged, tilting my chin up to meet his intense stare.
"Testing me." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his face inches from mine. "Playing games to see how I'll react."
"Is that what you think this is? A game?" I kept my voice steady despite the way my heart was hammering.
"Isn't it?" His grey eyes searched mine. For a moment, something raw and unguarded flickered across his features—a man warring with his training, his duty, his desires. "You mention your ex-boyfriend, watch for my reaction, then push a little harder to see what happens."
Heat flooded my cheeks—he'd seen right through me. "And if I was testing you?"
"Then you've got your answer, haven't you?" His voice was velvet over steel. "Because if some diplomat's son showed up at your door right now, I'd make sure he understood exactly why that would be a very bad idea."
My breath caught. "Jealous?" I whispered, watching his pupils dilate.
The muscles in his jaw jumped. "Concerned. Professionally."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" I arched an eyebrow, finding my confidence. "Because from where I'm sitting, it seems like you might be a little... possessive."
His nostrils flared. "I'm doing my job."
"So if I told you Frederick was the best kisser I've ever known," I said, trailing my finger across the table between us, watching his eyes track the movement, "that would be completely irrelevant to you? Professionally speaking."
A dangerous smile curved his lips, not reaching his eyes. "Princess, I couldn't care less about your romantic history."
"Then why," I leaned forward, dropping my voice to a whisper, "are you holding that pen so tightly I'm afraid it might snap?"
He glanced down at his white-knuckled grip, then deliberately set the pen down. "Your safety is my only concern."
"And if I told you I was planning on picking up where Frederick and I left off?" I pressed, heart racing at my boldness. "Safety wouldn't be your first concern then, would it?"
"You're baiting me," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shards of ice down my spine.
"Is it working?" I countered.
His jaw clenched, a vein pulsed at his temple. "My job is to keep you safe." He leaned closer, the flecks of silver in his stormy eyes catching my attention. "Even from yourself."
"And if I don't want to be safe?" I breathed, watching something wild and possessive flash across his face before he forced it back.
"That's not your choice to make." His voice was ice, but his eyes were fire. "And for the record, I doubt Frederick is half the man you remember."
"Oh? And who would be better? You?" I threw back, my heart thundering.
His smile was slow, predatory. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." I held his gaze, the tension between us so thick I could barely breathe. "Tell me, Mr. Banks, have you ever broken protocol before?"
"Not once," he said, but his eyes said something else entirely.
Something flickered in his eyes—perhaps the memory of his duty, his career, everything he stood to lose.
"Would you? For the right reason?" I asked, my voice barely audible, the question hanging between us like a challenge.
His grip on my chair tightened, his knuckles going white, before he suddenly released it and straightened slowly, adjusting his tie with fingers that weren't quite steady.
The professional mask was firmly back in place, but I'd seen the crack underneath—the flash of hunger, of possessiveness that he couldn't quite hide.
"There is no right reason to compromise your safety, Princess." But his voice lacked its usual conviction.
"What about your sanity?" I whispered, watching something wild flicker in his eyes before he forced it back under control.
He stepped away, putting distance between us, but the air still crackled with everything we hadn't said. He glanced at his closed laptop, his jaw tightening as I realised I'd made him abandon protocol completely. "Go back to your books, Your Highness. This conversation is over."
I knew I was playing with fire—testing a man already on edge from protecting me against genuine threats.
My rational mind screamed warnings about protocol, about the destruction of his career if anyone discovered his feelings, and about the impossible situation we were walking into. But my heart was already several steps ahead, and there was no turning back now.
But we both knew it wasn't over. If anything, it was just beginning.