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Her throat was tight as he brought her pillow talk admissions into her office.
‘You got it “over and done with”. Got all you wanted.’
‘I did.’ Beatrice stared coolly back at him. ‘Not the martinis, but—’
He didn’t even bother to slam the door on his way out.
And his calm exit was a precursor, because for the remainder of the week he blanked her.
Which was incredibly different from being ignored, Beatrice found out.
He was polite, occasionally friendly, often busy—completely normal, in fact. However, Beatrice found out just how precious those glimpses of Julius she’d had before really had been.
The stage curtains had been drawn again, and she had been shut out.
There were no more glimpses, and he no longer chose to make her smile.
Beatrice found out exactly how it felt to be a temp in his household.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘NOONEKNOWSwhen that day or hour will come—not even theangels in heaven, nor the Son...’
That line had always made Beatrice shiver in church.
Alicia had laughed at her gloom.
Her final day had dawned and she lay there, almost tempted to ring in sick, but knowing she wouldn’t.
It wasn’t waiting for Jordan’s reference that kept her showing up each day.
It was seeing him.
She’d kissed a prince, and instead of turning into a frog he’d stayed a prince. He’d stayed exactly who he was.
It was Beatrice who had changed. She’d been changing since they met, coming into herself in the weeks she’d been at the palace.
And it was killing her to leave.
She got through the Friday morning meeting, and the mood was a little jubilant, even, as it concluded. The Prince’s trip had gone well, there had been a whole week without drama since, and his appearance at the Flower Festival had been a hit.
And not a single apology had been made on the Prince’s behalf in the three months she had been here.
His single transgression Beatrice would certainly not be mentioning, because of course it was also her own, so she smiled and accepted congratulations for the newly wholesome Prince Julius and the PR triumph she had brought about.
‘So what’s next for you?’ Despina asked as Beatrice slipped on her jacket.
‘I’m mid-interviews,’ Beatrice said with a wavering hand. ‘We’ll see.’
‘Well, if the whispers are true...’ Despina smiled.
Beatrice gave nothing away, but, yes, there was an exceptionally exciting role for which she was applying. She would be needing a very glowing reference from Jordan, and there would be extensive security checks...
Julius was the reason she couldn’t stay. It had never been about her past.
This was not love. She’d been told that by the man himself. And, after all, what would she know about that? But whatever it was—love or infatuation—it was enough that she had no choice but to leave.
She walked through the Great Hall and went to take the stairs, but then she paused, for there was a portrait of Julius. Only, it wasn’t his drop-dead good looks that halted her in her tracks.
