Huh. Interesting. I wonder why?
“The summer palace,” I say, not knowing what’s discomfited her—but enjoying it, nonetheless.
It’s the little things.
“Is there a problem?” Ronan asks.
“No problem,” she replies smoothly.
Ronan closes his compendium over. “That settles it, then. The Palace will make arrangements for you to accompany His Royal Highness to the north. In the meantime, let’s begin this project here at the palace. You can shadow His Royal Highness for the next couple of days, attend the state dinner, and then leave for the north.”
As the meeting breaks up and everyone files out, I remain seated, watching Fabiana pack up her tablet with brisk efficiency. Pippa fawns over Fabiana as Ronan nods his farewell, and then it’s just her and me and suddenly the conference room seems too quiet, too intimate.
"See you later for our first official filming, sir," she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Looking forward to it," I lie.
She pauses at the door. " I meant what I said about representing you fairly."
I hold her gaze. “Thank you.”
She disappears from the room, and I let out a heavy breath.
I’m not the least happy about it, but the fact of the matter is I'm attracted to Fabiana, and not just physically. She challenges me. She isn’t afraid to stand up to me. She’s razor-sharp. She doesn’t react the way most women do, all simpering and blushing, hanging on my every word.
This could be a disaster in the making. A month ofserious levels of proximity with someone who isn't impressed by me.
I need to keep my head. I need professional distance. That's what I have to maintain with her, even if something tells me Fabiana Fontaine could turn out to be the most dangerous thing that's happened to me in a long, long time.
Chapter7
Valentina
I chew on a piece of toast topped with the creamiest scrambled eggs I’ve had in my life. I run my eyes over the schedule I was sent yesterday after the meeting. Prince Max’s day is packed, that’s for sure. But then that's what you get when you're born into royalty. Endless public engagements, parties, public adoration, and smiles for the cameras.
My heart bleeds for the guy.
Today kicks off with a 9 AM meetingwith the Minister of Education in the Blue Drawing Room, followed by something called a “correspondence review”—code for reading his DMs from adoring women, I bet—then a ribbon cutting at a new library wing across town. Finally, there’s a dinner welcoming heads of states from no less than three European countries.
Lots of chances to get both video footage and material for my next article.
I pop the final bite of my breakfast in my mouth and wash it down with barista-level coffee. With all the breakfast options offered to me today, I’ll be leaving the palace in a month with tighter clothing, that’s for sure. It all looks so good, and I've already planned what I'm having tomorrow: blueberry pancakes topped with maple syrup with a compote of raspberries and blueberries and a side order of clotted cream.
Today’s scrambled eggs on toast felt so restrained in comparison.
I pull on my blazer, scoop my hair up into a high ponytail, and slip on my glasses.
It's Fabiana go time.
Gathering my camera equipment, phone, and notebook, I check my watch. It’s eight-forty, which is perfect timing to set up in the Blue Drawing Room before the Minister of Education arrives. And who knows? I might even get a couple of moments alone with the prince before she arrives. Not that our time together so far has been exactly great. “Frosty” is probably the softest word I could use to describe it, although “outright hostile” would probably be more appropriate. The prince has made no bones of the fact he thinks I’m a despicable human with no redeeming features.
It's not exactly the start of a beautiful relationship.
My heels click on the marble floors as I make my wayto the meeting place. Arriving at the doors to the Blue Drawing Room, I wait and listen. With no sounds emanating from the room, I push inside to find it empty.
I’m the first one here.
I position myself near the large windows with my phone ready, my camera on its tripod, and my notebook turned to a fresh page.
