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“You have men sending you presents. Beautiful, expensive presents. You’re so closed off to everything male that you don’t know a good thing when it literally lands right on your desk.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I get laid plenty.”
“Yeah? When?” She arches a brow, not even pretending that she’s actually asking a question.
My cheeks redden as I shake my head. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Annie leans on my desk, grabbing the velvet box and flipping it open again. I ball my hands into fists to stop myself from lunging at her, then mentally smack myself for my reaction. Why would I be so protective over that stupid chain? Why would I care?
Annie lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “Promise me something, Jazz.”
I pop a brow. “What’s that?”
“At some point over the next three months when you’re traveling through a city in another country, and you come across a hot, available man…” She meets my gaze, grinning. “Promise me you’ll indulge at least once.”
“If promising you that makes you leave me alone so I can work, then fine. I promise. If I meet someone I like, I’ll consider sleeping with them.” I lift a finger. “Big if.”
Annie’s smile widens and she dips her chin once. “Good.” She presses the jewelry box against my chest. “I still think you should keep it.”
I don’t keep the chain. A part of me wants to—a big part of me—but I send it back with a polite note. Well, as polite as you can be when you’re refusing someone’s gift.
The rest of the work day goes by in a blur. Every few minutes, no matter how focused I am, my mind crawls back to that chain. To the man who sent it to me.
There were a few moments before I knew who he was where I felt like something special was happening. A chance at meeting someone who might understand me on some level. Who wasn’t afraid to get his feet dirty for my sake, wading straight into mud for a slim chance at finding my ring. A man who made me feel…warm. Whose arms felt good when they swept around my body.
Gathering my long hair in a messy pile on top of my head, I push my chair away from my desk and head for the office kitchen. I need water, or coffee, or a snack…something. Annie’s probably right—I need to get laid. If my body hadn’t reacted so intensely to the Prince’s touch, I wouldn’t be thinking about him today. I’d brush it off as just another man. Another interaction…even if at the back of my mind, I know it was something more.
Rhea meets me at the office after work just as I’m saying goodbye to Annie. I introduce them, feeling weird that these two women have never met before. Two parts of my world colliding.
Annie jerks her head at me. “Don’t let her dodge questions about her secret admirer. She got Cochrane jewelry today and insisted on returning it.”
Rhea gasps, eyes wide. “From him?”
Annie swivels her head around to me, tilting her head. “And who is ‘him?’” She glances at Rhea. “Jazz was incredibly tight-lipped about the whole thing no matter how much I prodded.”
My best friend laughs, winking at Annie. “I think you and I would get along. Maybe we should grab a drink together while Jazz is away.”
“Only if you promise to tell me exactly what I’ve missed,” Annie says, pulling out her phone for Rhea’s contact details.
I cross my arms, fighting a smile. “I see why you’re so good at the celebrity and gossip column, Annie.”
“It’s more fun than writing about politics,” she counters. “I’m sure Rhea would agree with me.”
“Wholeheartedly. I keep telling Jazzypants to give up her social conscience and be a hedonist like me. I wouldn’t have returned anything from Cochrane Jewelers, that’s for sure. Especially not if it was from—”
“Rhea.” I glare. “Glad I could be the matchmaker for you two, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I’m not standing right here.”
“Oh, hush,” Rhea says, waving a hand. She grins at Annie and we say our goodbyes, then leans her head close to mine. “From Prince Silas?”
I nod, pulling out the card I couldn’t bear to return with the chain. “Look.”
Rhea reads it, squealing. “Jacinthe Crawley. That man wants you.”
“Well, too bad I don’t want him.”
Rhea’s bottom lip juts out in an exaggerated pout. I laugh, shaking my head. She drags me to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant she found somehow, and we enjoy a giggly, happy dinner together. A farewell for a few months, because in a couple days’ time I’ll be climbing onto the royal jet with a few other reporters, Prince Wolfe, and a full security detail.
I most definitely won’t be accepting gifts from Prince Silas or thinking about him late at night. Once I have some distance from him, this little infatuation will end. It has to.
