The Queen's New Year Secret(8)
She blinked against the sun, pale light washing over everything around them.
“Why don’t you come in?”
She looked at Kairos, suddenly overcome by a sense of déjà vu. Of being in a new place with him, for the first time. That day she’d first walked into his office as his assistant.
* * *
“Come in. Sit down.”
Tabitha shifted where she was standing, unable to decide what exactly she should be staring at. At the most beautiful, opulent surroundings she had ever seen, or at the most blindingly handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.
She crossed the room, taking a seat across from him at his desk.
* * *
Tabitha was suddenly brought straight back into the present as she imagined that desk. The one they had conceived their baby on. Walking into his office that day, she never could have imagined that eight years later she would end up screwing him on it after asking him for a divorce.
She blinked against the stinging sensation in her eyes. They weren’t tears. She was not going to cry any tears for him. For the man who didn’t feel anything for her.
She followed him into the villa, unable to remain entirely unimpressed with her surroundings. She was used to opulence. She had spent years working with him in the palace prior to their marriage, and had had a good dose of exposure to it even before she herself was royalty. After nearly a decade in these kinds of settings she should be used to them.
But a small part of her was still very much that girl from the single-wide trailer, utterly unable to believe that she now rated entry into these sorts of places.
This—this small weakness for luxury—was the flaw in her armor. At least, the entry point by which to reach many of the others.
Everything in the room was white, large windows looking out over a lush garden, an infinity pool and beyond that the sea provided the only color. That was one of the first things she had noticed when she came to live in the palace. Even when she was simply in the apartments provided for her as an employee, the decor had been simple, but the quality unsurpassed.
It made her feel small and gauche to think of her observations now. The linens had been pure white, no pattern, or ornate embroidery to draw the eye. It was all in the feel of it. So soft it was like touching a cloud. Everything was like that. The tissues and the toilet paper even. Tiny pieces of luxury that added up to the kind of comfort she had never even imagined existed.
“My room is upstairs, at the end of the hall, feel free to choose whichever quarters suit you best.”
She looked over at him, reminded yet again of that first meeting.
* * *
She had never seen an office quite like this. And she had never seen a man quite like him. When she entered the prestigious university that was currently facilitating this study-abroad program she’d been exposed to a higher class of people, a higher class of living than ever before. But this was somewhere far beyond that.
For one thing, he was a prince. No matter how blue the blood, that placed him several rungs higher on the social ladder than any of the old-money Americans she’d encountered. For another, he was unlike any of the other men she interacted with at university. He was a man, a real man, for a start, not a boy barely edging into his twenties.
In his perfectly cut custom suit he was daunting to say the least. Add the fact that his face was objectively the most beautiful masculine work of art she’d ever seen, and she found herself unable to speak. That never happened. She’d learned early on that if she wanted to improve her position in life she would have to attack her goals with single-mindedness. She could never afford to look like she didn’t belong, because people would be all too willing to believe her. So she had cultivated confidence from the beginning.
It deserted her then. All her words drying up completely.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not offering her his hand, but rather a simple incline of his head. “I have read your file, and taken the recommendation of my advisor into consideration. However, I did not follow the advice. I merely took it under consideration.”
She frowned, not entirely sure what to make of the comment. “Really?”
“Yes. A fact you should be grateful for, as he felt you were a bit too pretty to serve my needs.”
Her face burned. But it wasn’t with anger, as it should have been. Well, there was a bit of anger, but also a wave of excitement that had no business being there. “I was not aware my looks had anything to do with whether or not I would be a qualified assistant.”
“They don’t. Not to me. Though, I imagine his concerns center squarely around my younger brother, Andres, not me.”
She was well educated on the royal family. Applying for a job at the palace without proper knowledge would be foolish. She was well familiar with Prince Andres and his reputation with women. She was also immune to such things. She was focused. She’d been accused of having tunnel vision by people who were nice, and of being frigid by people who weren’t. None of it bothered her. She had goals. And once she reached those goals she could expand her horizons. Until then, she would move on with a single-minded focus and make apologies to no one.
No, Prince Andres didn’t concern her.
The fact that some of her focus had splintered the moment she’d seen Prince Kairos concerned her a little bit. But that was an anomaly. Nothing to be concerned about. She would be back to normal as soon as she became accustomed to him, to the surroundings. Assuming she had a chance to do so.
“There’s no need to be concerned,” she said.
“You haven’t met him yet.”
“I don’t need to meet him. I have not gotten as far as I have in my life by being silly, or easily seduced by princes. I’m here because this is not the kind of work experience that can be matched. I’m here because of what this will do for my résumé in the future. I’m not here to become the subject of tabloid gossip.”
He smiled and the expression echoed in her stomach. “Then congratulations. I would like to hire you.” And there he stood, extending his hand.
She stood as well, wrapping her fingers firmly around his, ignoring the zip of heat that passed between them. She had just told him that she had no desire to become tabloid fodder, and she would not be undermined by betraying the fact that his touch affected her.
She buried it. Buried it down as deep as it would go.
“Excellent.”
“Very. If you’re ready, I can show you to your quarters.”
* * *
“Do you need me to escort you?”
Tabitha blinked, coming back to the present sharply. “No. You can send my things up later. I’m assuming you had my things packed.”
“No,” he said. “However, your room should be stocked with all the amenities you might require.”
“Translated into direct English, please, rather than your particular brand of doublespeak.”
“I called ahead. Clothing, makeup and other toiletries should be delivered shortly. To the room of your choosing. There are no servants in residence at this house, that’s part of the attraction to it.”
“I wouldn’t know, as this is the first time I’ve ever been here.”
“I haven’t been here since we were married, as you well know. I’ve been busy running the country.”
“You’re right. I am well aware.”
She turned away from him then and walked up the stairs, acutely aware of his dark gaze following her every move. She didn’t know why he should watch her with such attention now, when he had certainly never done so before.
She stiffened her posture and continued on, as though she were completely unaware of his attentions. She’d spent a very long time pretending she didn’t notice how little he saw her. This should be no different.
She scoffed when she reached the landing and looked down the expansive corridor. There were a dozen rooms on this floor, at least. He had made it sound different somehow. Talking about his room being at the end of the hall, saying there were no servants in residence. Still, she should have known that his family owned nothing modest.
She selected the first door, if only because it would be the farthest away from him.
It was white like the rest of the rooms in the house. A four-poster bed was at the center, with gauzy, pale fabric draped over the carved wooden spires. The floor was marble with a plush rug at the center. The only color was provided by a jade vase positioned on a table set against the far wall, with bright cheery crimson flowers bursting from it. She wanted to take the vase, and the flowers, and hurl it to the ground.
Its very existence made her angry. As though it were trying to tell her she should be happy to be here. As though it were trying to prove that this was a wonderful, beautiful place.
Most of all, it made her furious because she had to wonder if this was the only room that contained flowers. If her husband had known she would choose this one because of its proximity, or lack thereof, to his room.
If he knew her so well, while not knowing her at all.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was pregnant. Kairos had all but kidnapped her and brought her to an island. He wanted to negotiate, or terminate her parental rights.
She stumbled over to the plush bed, sinking down onto the covers. She felt weighted down by despair, as though her clothing were woven together with thread fashioned from lead. She closed her eyes, letting the bed pull her in as her clothing pushed her down. Her head was swimming with thoughts, confused, present and distant. Mainly, though, as she drifted off, she thought of Kairos. Of the day he asked her to be more than his assistant.