“Of course you weren’t.”
Riiiight. It was so obvious he was saying that just to humor her, and Fawn bit back an uneasy sigh. When a full minute passed and the prince hadn’t said anything else, she cleared her throat and asked, “Is t-there something I can do?”
“You’ve forgotten then. ”
“Forgotten what?”
The prince said gently, “You’ve completed one month of service, Fawn. Today I’m going to evaluate your performance and decide whether you can be a permanent addition to my staff.”
Mary Joseph and Jesus, she had forgotten.
But he didn’t have to know that.
“I could never forget, prince, like seriously.”
“Mm.” The prince had come to the realization that she had a tendency to use ‘seriously’ when she was lying, and he stored it away for future use. Swiveling his seat to the side, the prince raised Igor’s report to eye level, saying thoughtfully, “A couple of incidents have been noted in your performance report.”
She didn’t like the way the prince stressed the incident part.
“To start with, the first incident is the time you put salt in my coffee—-” He saw Fawn bite her lip hard. “You wish to contest this, parthena mou?”
“But I thought you already forgave me for that,” she blurted out.
“I see.” How terribly, adorably naïve of her, he thought lazily. Maybe one day, he could teach her just how he liked a woman to beg his forgiveness.
But for now—-
His gaze moved back to the report. “Continuing with the report, there’s also the time you broke a 17th century vase—-”
“But you said you agreed it was an accident,” she couldn’t help protesting. “And I also offered to put it back together again—-”
“With washi tape,” he reminded her. And even to this date, he had no idea what that was, but knowing her, it probably wouldn’t be worth researching in this case.
“Would duct tape have been better? I’m flat broke right now, but I could probably stomach asking my fiancé to buy it—-”
The prince’s jaw hardened at the mention of the other man in Fawn’s life.
Fawn’s voice trailed off when she saw the look on the prince’s face. Right, she thought. Clearly, duct tape was going to make it worse. She had made the semi-right call with washi tape then.
“Lastly, there’s the note-taking incident.”
Fawn tried not to cringe at the reminder. She remembered that day very clearly. The prince’s secretary had been on sick leave, and he had asked her to fill in because he needed someone to type certain documents for him.
“Can I at least defend myself, prince?” she almost pleaded. At his nod, she said eagerly, “You see, I do the same thing for Grant, a lot of times, for his work with the Student Council.”
“Is that so?” The prince cracked his knuckles, wondering when he could have the pleasure of sinking his fist into Grant Bennett’s boyishly handsome face.
She nodded eagerly. “I even downloaded an app that lets me practice note taking while the app reads out articles and excerpts from books. I really didn’t want to do anything that could make anyone think I’m not a suitable girlfriend for Grant.”
“How perfectly nice.” And right now, he felt perfectly murderous. “Given all that, I’m curious to find out why you’ve failed then.”
“It’s your accent—-”
He said frostily, “I do not have an accent.”
“But you do, prince,” she protested.
“I beg your pardon?” His tone was ominously soft, the prince unused to having someone challenging his word.
But instead of effectively frightening her into submission, it only had her gasping, “There it is! See how you said ‘pardon’?” At his blank look, Fawn said again, “Pardon.” But this time she tried to sound British while attempting to move her lips the way the prince had moved his. “Do you see now?”
The prince wondered how was it that he could still want to taste her even while he also wanted to see her dead. He took a deep breath. “Fawn?”
The prince’s calm voice made her sigh silently in relief. “Yes, prince?” Thank God he saw her point.
“If you say I have an accent—-”
“You do.”
“I’ll fire you.”
“You don’t have an accent, like seriously.”
“I thought so.”
She watched him put her performance report aside before turning to face her, his gaze thoughtful. When he still didn’t say anything, she said, “Please, prince.” Faced with the sudden prospect of having to lose her highest-paying job, pride and inhibition lost meaning for Fawn, and she added sincerely, “I genuinely want to continue working here, prince. Any position you want me in, I’d be happy to do it.”
The prince started coughing.
She asked in concern, “Prince?”
Any position, she said, and she’d be happy to do it, too. It had him coughing again, but even so, the words had a noticeable impact on his body, and he sucked his breath in hard. Staring at her, hearing her innocently tempting words replay in his mind, he could easily imagine the position he wanted to have her in right now.
On his lap—-
Naked—-
Offering herself—-
Sensing the prince’s suddenly intense gaze on her, Fawn looked up—-
And that was it.
Oh no.
It had been a trap, but it was too late.
His emerald green gaze had captured hers, and now there was no escaping its effect.
Blood rushed to her head, making her feel faint and dizzy. Dimly, she heard the prince ask, “Do you mean that, parthena mou? Will you be happy in whatever position I want you in?” His voice was raspy with something she couldn’t quite name, but even so, it had her body melting into liquid fire.
The prince’s burning gaze demanded an answer, and she whispered, “Yes.”
His eyes glittered, and she gulped. Holy sweet Jesus, but the longer she gazed into his eyes, the more she wanted. Oh, how she wanted—-
But what did she want?
“I’m glad to hear that, and I will hold you to your promise.” The prince slid to his feet, and somehow she managed to stand as well. He came to her, so close that she could breathe the scent
