“Do you?” Ibrahim raised an eyebrow. “Because, from where I stand, it appears you’ve developed an attachment to the Duke that goes beyond professional boundaries. An attachment that could lead to complications for everyone involved.”
Ooof, that stung. I looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. “I just… I wanted to be there for him.”
“I see. And yet, you must regard this as a potential distraction. One that could jeopardize your standing here, as well as his.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what I was apologizing for. “It won’t happen again.”
“No,” Ibrahim agreed. “It won’t. The Duke has requested your services again before his departure, and given the circumstances, we will honor that request. But it will be the last time you are assigned to him.”
The words hit me like a punch. “Got it,” I managed, the thought of never seeing Ricard again twisting my gut.
“This is not a punishment, Theo. It is a protection for both of you.” Ibrahim's voice softened, losing some of its authoritative edge. “I have seen this scenario play out before. A wealthy client becomes enamored with a companion. The companion develops genuine feelings in return. They imagine possibilities. Whatever connection you feel, whatever connection he feels, it cannot lead anywhere but disappointment.”
I knew he was right. He was spot on about that. Ricard was a duke, part of a royal family bound by duty. I was just a guy, a sex worker here to pay for my brother's medical care. That we could be anything more than client and companion was a fantasy.
But just because I knew that didn’t make accepting it any easier. “I appreciate your concern,” I said, forcing myself to meet Ibrahim’s gaze. “And I understand the rules. It won’t be a problem.”
Ibrahim nodded, gesturing back toward the path. “You're free to go.” Then, as I turned to leave, he added, “The fact that it hurts is proof that it was genuine. That is something to cherish, not regret.”
I turned to leave, relief mixing with a deep sense of loss. I made it a few steps when Ibrahim's voice stopped me.
“Theo.”
I looked back over my shoulder.
“The Duke leaves tomorrow to meet with his brother,” Ibrahim said, tone neutral. “Given the news from his homeland, it’s uncertain whether he will return to The Ranch at all.”
The walk back to the companions' quarters felt like it took forever, my brain spinning with all these emotions. Even the resort itself seemed to mess with me, all those perfect gardens and fancy lighting and people laughing in the distance like everything was totally fine.
I thought about Casey, about the promise I'd made to him. About how I'd come here with such a clear purpose and somehow fucked everything by falling for someone out of my league.
The worst part was, I couldn't even regret it. Whatever happened with Ricard, it had awakened something in me I hadn't known was there, a capacity for connection that went beyond the physical.
In a weird way, loving Ricard (because yeah, that's what this was becoming, wasn't it?) had something in common with how I felt about Casey. Both made me want to put someone else first, to see them for who they really were, to shield them from all the crap life throws at people.
Different kinds of love, obviously, but somehow stemming from the same place inside me.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed open the door to the building. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever Ricard decided, facing the reality of our situation loomed ahead. He was a client, and I was a companion. That was all we could ever be.
Some things were worth the pain of losing them. I just hadn't expected Ricard to become one of those things.
Chapter 17
Ricard
The city of Dallas sprawled beneath the helicopter, a concrete labyrinth stretching toward the horizon. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching skyscrapers rise like sentinels from the urban landscape. Inside my mind, thoughts scattered like the buildings below, fragmented and impossible to organize into anything coherent.
Remy is here.
The knowledge settled heavily in my gut. My brother—Crown Prince of Avaline, heir to the throne, and subject of an international scandal—had crossed an ocean to find me. Whatever crisis had driven him to American soil must be dire indeed.
“Your Grace?” The pilot's voice crackled through my headset, pulling me from my thoughts. “We’ll be landing in five minutes.”
I watched the shadow of our aircraft slide across glass-clad buildings, a dark silhouette momentarily distorting their perfect reflections. A perfect metaphor for how Remy's arrival had cast its shadow across my brief respite from duty.
I straightened in my seat, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt beneath my jacket, the familiar ritual of preparation settling over me like armor. A duke once more. “Thank you.”
Vincent arranged everything with his typical efficiency: a car from Dove Canyon to a private airfield, a jet for the short hop to Dallas,and now a helicopter to the hotel. The transition had been seamless, allowing no time for hesitation or regret over leaving Theo behind.
