I can be me.
The small number of staff at the palace have known me since I was knee high to a grasshopper, many of them still calling me Maxie. It should make me cringe—I'm a man of twenty-seven—but secretly, I love it. They know who I really am, and that’s what matters.
By the looks of things, Toffee adores this place just as much as I do. The moment she's out of her crate, she gets a serious case of the zoomies, bolting the moment I open her door, only to come careening back when I whistle for her. Her tail wags like a windscreen wiper in a storm, her tongue flapping as it hangs out of her mouth, her big brown eyes glistening with excitement.
I bend down and ruffle her fur. “This is your new favorite place, isn't it, girl?”
Her answer is to take off once more.
Fabiana strides over to me. She looks all business in her high heels, so out of place here in the country, as they crunch across the gravel, her ever-present notebook clutched against her chest as she films. She's removed her blazer in the heat of the afternoon, and I allow my gaze to trail over her curves, encased in a slim-fitting skirt and blouse.
My belly clenches at the sight of her.
Man, she’s hot.
“Someone’s happy to be here,” she says as she films Toffee madly sniffing the plants, darting between them like she’s never smelt anything so wonderful in all her life.
“She told me she prefers the country to the city,” I say.
“A talking dog? Royalty really does get all the good stuff.”
We both watch as Toffee begins to dig a hole in the middle of the lawn, dirt flinging through the air like little missiles.
“Is she allowed to do that?” Fabiana asks.
“Not exactly. Father would have a stroke if he knew.”
She clicks her phone off. “Good job he doesn’t, although I would have thought you’d be bothered by it. Don’t you have a thing for lawns? Sloping ones, covered in slip n’ slides, that is.”
I let out a laugh. Once I would have taken it as a jibe, now it’s more like her teasing me.
She grins. “It had to be said.”
I shake my head. “Did it really?”
“This place is amazing! And it’s so warm here. I’m roasting!” Pippa exclaims as she wanders over to us. “I thought it would be cooler in the mountains, sir.”
“It usually is. It’s unseasonably warm,” I reply.
She plunks herself down at the edge of the fountain and dips her fingers in the water. “Smell that fresh air! I bet you can drink this water; everything’s so fresh here.” She cups a hand and lifts it to her mouth.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Pippa,” I call out.
It’s too late as she takes a long sip and dips her hand in the fountain for more. “Why not? It’s so refreshing!”
“Is that water safe to drink?” Fabiana asks.
“We can but hope Pippa’s digestive system is made of stern stuff.”
“Let’s hope, for her sake.”
I whistle, and Toffee immediately stops her digging, turning in my direction, her ears pricked up. “Come on, Toffee!” I call, and she comes bounding over to me, only to leap at Fabiana as though she's the one who called her.
By now, Toffee’s dirty paws are all over Fabiana’s skirt, but she doesn't seem to have noticed as she leans down to pet her, or even care. “Hello, little Toffee,” she says as she strokes her fur. “Aren't you having a marvelous timealready? And look at your dirty paws. Your daddy will need to give you a bath.”
I arch a brow. “Daddy?” I question.
She looks up at me. “Should I have referred to you as His Royal Highness?”
