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And then she felt teary.
And not just for herself but for Julius too.
Loneliness came in so many forms.
Then she thought of the King, staring into the lake and wiping his eyes, and that had her wondering if her allergies were starting again.
Kings weren’t supposed to cry.
CHAPTER NINE
‘SIR?’
Julius opened his eyes, which he had closed not to sleep but in order to take a couple of moments to assimilate his thoughts—or had he actually dozed off?
He glanced out of the plane window. But even orientated to the real world now, as the plane sliced through the dawn, Julius felt as if he was hurtling in the wrong direction.
‘Sir?’ It was the flight attendant again.
‘No.’ He declined the offer of breakfast. ‘No, thank you.’
They were over the edge of the archipelago, where the ocean met the red sky as if the seabed was littered with fiery opals. There was Regalsi, the remotest island, with its unique red sands, far in the distance.
Looking out, Julius refused to think of his honeymoon.Hell.He was signing the Document of Intent soon; he’d been putting it off untilshewas gone...
Now he didn’t want her to go at all.
He’d been resigned to marriage, ready to assume his duty, until she’d arrived to shine up his image.
‘Do you want to go through this now?’ Jordan broke into his thoughts. ‘Or sleep first?’
‘No, let’s get it done.’
It was mainly practical—just last-minute changes to the itinerary and a speech, a poem he was supposed to read in Pontic Greek for his brother...
‘You’ve practised?’ Jordan asked.
He rolled his eyes.
‘I figured it wasn’t going so well when I saw you’d swiped all the things off my desk, so I found a recording of it for you to listen to...’
And the worrying part—the seriously worrying part—was that Julius wanted to reach for his phone and share a little private smile with Beatrice.
He didn’t share private smiles with anyone.
Ever.
‘Can you cast your eyes over this?’ Jordan handed him a file.
‘What is it?’ Julius frowned even as he read it.
‘A list of possibilities for a permanent liaison aide,’ Jordan said, and then added, ‘I like the second one; he’s got two royal weddings under his belt.’
He nodded, and had to carry on as if he cared not at all that Beatrice had clearly declined the job offer.
It was odd to be mid-air and to register that he really did care. Far too much.
Not that she’d declined the permanent role—he’d already known that she would—what he cared about was whether she had declined it before or after going to bed with him.
