The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1) - Page 3

“If I wasn’t, I would have found a way to get out of it.”

They shared a grin.

“I think it will be fun for you. Something different. But also, it’s important right now. With the current political situation, it’s vital to give our country something to celebrate. And there’s nothing we love more than football.”

She shrugged. There were things she could say, inequities she could point out. But Jamie wouldn’t, couldn’t waver in his support of the crown on the issue of independence. To even ask him to share his thoughts would put him in a difficult situation.

“You could use some fun,” Jamie remarked, conveniently changing the subject.

“What makes this seem like such fun to you?”

“I don’t know. I just thought … your appearances are so staid. You know, your stamp collectors union and all,” he said with a wink. She opened her mouth to argue, but Jamie was quick to continue, “I know you love your committee work. But when was the last time you let go and cut loose?”

Ele shrugged. “My definition of ‘having fun,’ ” she quoted, “has changed in the last twelve years. And really, your great idea for me to have a good time is to send me out on an official event. Perhaps your definition has changed too.”

Jamie grinned. “It wasn’t planned that way. It just happened.”

“Of course it did.”

“Have you seen some of the lads? I heard they put together a calendar. Figured, if nothing else, you would have pretty faces to look at.”

Ele’s hand flew to her chest, her eyes widening. Head swiveling, she glanced around the room before scooting her chair back and peeking under the desk. “Thank goodness there aren’t any paps around. What kind of comment is that for the future king to be making?”

“Sod off!”

Ele snickered.

“Seriously though, any prospects I need to vet?”

“I’m the Spinster Ice Princess. Even the promise of vast riches and royal babies can’t entice men to notice me. Don’t you read the tabloids?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Maybe. But I know Charlotte gets a packet every morning and highlights it for you to read over your coffee.”

Jamie grinned but refused to comment.

“What about you though? Is there a beautiful aristocrat who has struck your fancy?”

In the roulette wheel of genetics, Jamie, Juliana, and Ele had won. They suffered no weak chins, heavy jowls, or hooked noses. If Jamie ever took the time to think about what he might change about himself, maybe he’d wish to be taller. But with his perfectly coiffed mahogany hair against the amber hues of his skin and his ice-blue eyes, most forgot about his height. If one were looking for an imperfection, his lips were too full and wide—a bit feminine, to be fair. Yet his appeal wasn’t wrapped up in the outer trappings. Charismatic and charming, Jamie didn’t have a personality as much as an aura. Ele knew there was a depth to him, some part of himself he hid away and only allowed very few people to glimpse. In his introspective moments, he left the door ajar.

“Do you think there is any opportunity for real, genuine”—he glanced at her—“guess that means the same thing”—his self-deprecating smile was in place—“connection?”

Goose bumps trailed down Ele’s arms, the subject matter so telling. She attempted to shake the melancholy of the moment. Because when it was quiet and the duties were done, she thought of it. Her brain didn’t function like Jamie’s; he was more intuitive than she. The subject matter though was the one thing she couldn’t analyze with her scientific method.

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps.”

“Is that what you want?” She knew everyone was supposed to want a connection with another person, but could a future king afford it? Could he share himself in that way?

Could I? With all of my rules and rituals and rigidity, is there someone who could fit themselves into the tight confines of our lives?

“Maybe it’s me. I’ve met countless women but never gotten that feeling. The one poets adorn with words. I can quote Shakespeare here.” His sad smile nearly broke Ele’s heart.

Uncomfortable, Ele shifted in her seat. “I don’t know.”

“Me either. You know I have never begrudged our lives. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” When Ele glared at him, he amended, “Of course, that. But I mean, I have never felt sorry for myself and this life we were born into. It’s probably blasphemous or treasonous to say this, but”—his voice dropped to a whisper—“I look forward to the day I will ascend the throne.” He smiled wickedly. “I just don’t want to do it alone.”

Tags: J. Santiago Royally Pitched Billionaire Romance
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