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With a towel around his waist, Rowan studied the options for clothing. He’d spent the last ten weeks in hospital gowns and sweats that had been modified to accommodate his injury. And today, he was supposed to look smart in a suit. It was the least of his worries.
He’d miscalculated. And now, he and Juliana were going to pay for it. The worst of it was, he couldn’t back out. If he cried wolf, he’d be at the mercy of his parents. At least right now, he had some control over his life. But he wasn’t sure he should have drawn Juliana into this battle. There were other women he could have trusted with this. But he’d known he would have to give up secrets, and at least Juliana had as much at stake as he did.
This morning, Rowan had woken up to find the duke and his tailor waiting for him. After a few quick measurements, the man grabbed one of Rowan’s suits. Promising to make the adjustments, he’d been off. Already, he had returned it. Rowan moved to grab it, hoping the knot in his towel would hold. He’d already had enough of trying to maneuver with his crutches and his unraveling towel. He’d experienced many moments of abject horror since the accident; the humiliation of naked crutching was just another layer of shit.
He set one of his crutches against the wall and leaned forward to unhook the suit from the rack. He held it up and studied it. The tailor had had to make some major modifications. Rowan had lost a couple of inches off his waist, and his shoulders were probably as narrow as they’d been when he was sixteen. He shook his head and latched the hanger onto the hook on the back of the door. Then, he shuffled to the bureau, looking for underwear. He stuck his hand in and pulled out the first pair. He turned and plopped down on the chair. Everywhere he went, there were chairs waiting for his ass to drop into. He leaned forward to slide his feet into his boxers and stopped as the image of Juliana sauntering across the room in his underwear flashed before his eyes.
Jesus, fuck.
He sat up and dropped his head against the wall behind him. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the memory of her. He’d turned the light off to be an ass. The tedium of her drunken ramblings and pure exhaustion weighed on him. So, the white T-shirt stood out in the darkness, drawing his gaze. She had to pause, to let her eyes adjust to the sudden dimness. And as she stood there, he allowed himself to stare. The shirt hit right under her ass, so her long legs were gloriously on display. And she’d been wearing his fucking boxers.. He couldn’t, in a thousand years, have known how sexy she would look in his underwear. Just conjuring that picture of her made him hard. Then, he remembered her asking if he felt like a right proper cradle-robber, and his hard-on deflated like a popped balloon.
Once he was dressed, he affixed his new lightweight brace to his leg and stood. He was straightening his tie when he heard a knock on his door. He ambled out of the closet as he called, “Come.”
The duke ushered Juliana into the suite. She was stunning in a black pantsuit, a shockingly white shirt, and a triumphant smile. The duke looked harassed.
“Good to see you in proper clothes,” the duke said, always willing to remind Rowan of his shortcomings.
“Right, well, dress pants and rehab don’t mix all that well,” he answered wryly.
“The princess came by to see me earlier this morning, I presume while you were with your physical therapist. She mentioned to me that she hadn’t had an opportunity to discuss her concerns with you but that you supported her decisions about her security and use of staff.”
Rowan looked to Juliana. While he was impressed with her ability to handle herself, he didn’t like to be blindsided. She flashed him a mischievous grin he was unable to interpret, but it looked like the smile she’d had on her face right before she kissed him at the press conference. He braced for impact.
“I merely explained to His Grace that I had my own security detail and did not need a personal secretary. He feels you might want me to have Navan security when the news gets out. And as we will be introduced as a couple over the next few days, we might need someone to help us coordinate our schedules. But with of your rehab, many of these outings will be handled solely by me.”
She was giving him an out, and damn if he wasn’t going to grab on to it with both hands. The fewer encounters they had to handle together, the better. He wasn’t sure if they could portray the happy, loving couple indefinitely. Engagements needed to be limited. He wanted to bring her closer to him, so they appeared as a united front, but he couldn’t hold out his hand to her, and holding out his crutch, while amusing in theory, was completely impractical.
“We haven’t discussed it at length, but we are in complete accord on this. She was just trying to take something off my plate by going to you on her own.” He hoped she understood he wasn’t happy about her going off on her own.
“I fear when the news of who you are and who you are dating becomes public knowledge, you won’t have a moment’s peace. Security will be important,” the duke argued.
“Are you implying being acknowledged as your son is more impressive than the career I’ve built?” Rowan asked, his tone razor-sharp.
“I am merely stating a fact. You are about to be acknowledged as the heir to many of my titles and much of my money. It could pose a security threat you might not be prepared for.”
“I don’t need your money, and I don’t want your titles. Juliana and I will handle our own security, as we have always done. If there is nothing else, I’d like to spend some time alone with Jules before we have to attend these events.”
They stared at each other. Two stubborn men who shared DNA but nothing else. Finally, the duke turned on his heel and strode from the room.
Rowan turned to Juliana. “You could have waited for me, and we could have handled this together.”
She shrugged. “We just did.”
His hands curled into fists. She was so infuriating.
Taking a deep breath, he asked, “What is your plan for security? You will need it.”
“Noah is already here. He’s all I need.”
“One person? You have a one-person security team?” His shock was apparent. He’d been around for the parade of personal protection officers who surrounded Princess Eleanor.
Juliana sighed. “It’s different for me than it is for Ele. That’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it? Her extensive team?” She shrugged. “I’m not the spare. And I’ve had a life outside the palace that had nothing to do with politics and the royal line. Since I could make my own decision about it, I’ve only had one person with me. And he stays very much in the background.”
He was skeptical, but it wasn’t really his place to say. And he understood. He didn’t want to be surrounded by bodyguards either. He let it go. It really wasn’t his business. Rowan’s watch began to buzz with incoming messages. Juliana pulled her phone from the pocket of her suit jacket. They both looked up at the same time, and their eyes met. Juliana’s widened as Rowan’s narrowed.
“Bullocks!” Rowan muttered. “The wanker just released the news into the world.”
