Page 3 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Everyone is essential,” James replied, his tone both pleasant and confident. “Everyone in this room can also be trusted without question.”

And this was why Leo loved his boss.

It looked as though Atkin might argue, but he settled down when the Prince muttered a soft, “George, please. Let’s just get this over with.”

Wow, thanks. So kind of Prince Joshua to convey his desire to be anywhere but here.

Picking up his tea, Leo kept quiet throughout the explanation delivered by Atkin; some basics about Joshua—PrinceJoshua—returning from a holiday in Spain with friends, and how it coincided with an email sent to Atkin’s account, an email containing a sample of what promised to be fairly incriminating material. At James’ reminder that full disclosure was part of his terms, Atkin grimaced, cast the Prince a sideways glance and then retrieved an iPad. Next to Leo, Nate tensed up, and Leo could tell that he was forcibly holding back a rant about the risks of cloud storage and Apple’s thirst for data.

When Carole looked at the screen, the Prince, who’d been sitting primly so far, seemed to curl slightly into himself as he stared resolutely at the tabletop. Ashamed, was he? No pity from Leo, that was for certain. If you made your bed, you’d better be prepared to lie in it.

Accepting the tablet from Ben, Leo studied the picture for longer than necessary.Sweet Jesus, fuck everything. Ten years ago, a visual of Prince Joshua stretched out on the floor, partly undressed and straddledby a hot man, would have fuelled Leo’s imagination for months. He was no longer seventeen and horny, though. Also, Prince Joshua was no longer the cherubic, curly-haired boy Leo had glimpsed around the hallways of Eton; at twenty-five, the Prince was very much a man, tall and slender, with a wide mouth, clear green eyes and a loose tumble of chocolate curls. Still irritatingly attractive.

Not that it mattered in any way.

Leo passed the iPad on to Nate, took another sip of tea and avoided staring at the Prince’s hands, long fingers twisted together on the table, the same fingers that had been clutching the other man’s biceps in the picture, and—and Leo wasnotstaring at the Prince’s hands. Definitely not.

Once Atkin had pocketed the iPad again, there was a moment of silence before Carole spoke up, sounding highly uncomfortable. “Um, Your Grace?”

“Your Royal Highness,” Leo corrected without thinking. A moment later, he wished he hadn’t, especially because Carole looked even more uncertain than before. “Sorry,” he told her quietly. “If you want to follow conventions, it’s Your Royal Highness for the first address, and then Sir afterwards. Just, you know. If you want to be precise.”

“Just Joshua is fine,” the Prince said into this awkwardness, followed by a curious look at Leo. Leo arched a brow and turned away.

So much for his ability to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.

“Carole, you were saying?” James asked, and Carole cleared her throat.

“I was just wondering, Sir—excuse me,Joshua.” She tried for a smile that still looked a little overwhelmed by the situation. Oh, for fuck’s sake, prince or not, the bloke was still bloodyhuman, wasn’t he? “I was wondering about the guy in the picture. Is there a chance he set you up?”

“Absolutely not,” Joshua replied immediately. For the first time, there was a hint of authority to his tone. “Mo is one of my best mates. Also, if he’d have wanted, he could have done this years ago. There is zero chance it was him. Justno.”

“Interesting concept of friendship,” Leo said. Since he clearly had no brain-to-mouth filterwhatsoever.

Under the table, Nate kicked him in the shin, and Leo suppressed a flinch. He’d probably deserved that, what with how he’d promised to at leasttryto keep his comments to himself. Then again, Nate knew Leo and should thus be aware of just how impossible a request it had been in the first place.

Joshua must have caught the mocking edge to Leo’s voice, a frown wrinkling his forehead. The gentle morning light washing over his features brought out the colour of his eyes. “Do you have a problem with,”—a short pause—“homosexual actions?”

“A problem with dicks touching?” Leo laughed, unable to help it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed James giving him a warning glare, and oh. Um, right.Client. Leo tamped down on his amusement and met Joshua’s gaze evenly. “Beg your pardon,Sir. I’m gay, so no, I certainly don’t have a problem with homosexual actions. What I do have a problem with is dishonesty. Why not do yourfriendthe courtesy of calling him your boyfriend? Or fuck buddy, whichever.”

“Leo,” James said with a sharpness he rarely heard directed at himself. In parallel, Nate delivered another kick to Leo’s shin, more forceful than the first. Still Leo refused to break eye contact with Joshua, refused to apologise just because Joshua happened to possess several titles and a shitload of money. Little twat.

“Not that it’s any of your business…” Joshua’s voice was deep and precise, each syllable shaped carefully. “But Mo is indeed myfriend, first and foremost. We also happen to get each other off sometimes. Mostly because I can’t very well pick up random guys at a club now, can I?”

Leo lifted both shoulders and smiled. His fingertips throbbed, keeping pace with his rapid pulse. He felt oddly dizzy. “You could if you came clean. Being gay is no cause for shame, little prince.”

The informal address made Joshua sit up a little straighter, eyes narrowing, chin tipping up in challenge. Hell yeah, bring iton.

Only then Leo glanced over, and the open disappointment in James’ eyes had him swallow and shrink back into his chair. Fuck.Fuck. “I apologise,” he said, rushed. Meeting Joshua’s gaze, he tried to ignore the unsteady thump of his own heart, beating high up in his throat. He also tried to ignore the way Atkin was glaring at him. “That was out of line, and it won’t happen again. I’m in no position to judge, obviously.”

After a second that stretched like a brittle rubber band, ready to tear with the strain, Joshua nodded once, barely perceptible, and looked away. Leo found that he could breathe again. Focusing on his tea, he resolved to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the meeting.

It was going to be a long day, and it had barely even started.

There were four viable options: one, the Royal Family could pay the money and hope to never hear from the blackmailer again; two, Joshua could come out and render the blackmailer’s material much less valuable; three, they could stall for time and try to catch the culprit before anything went public; four, they could do nothing and wait it out. Of course there were further details, such as the question of whether they were looking at one blackmailer or several, or whether the ramifications of a potential coming-out would be cushioned if Joshua’s friend were to pose as his boyfriend, at least for a short while. The basic options remained the same, though.

Throughout the discussion Prince Joshua had been remarkably quiet, listening with his hands clasped in his lap and his gaze lowered, lashes hiding his eyes. Atkin had been much more vocal, although he hadn’t displayed a clear preference. For all that Leo considered himself quite skilled at reading people, he honestly couldn’t predict the outcome when Joshua and Atkin—George—asked for a few minutes of privacy.

While James and Ben went to check their emails in their respective offices and Carole popped down to the deli to grab something for lunch, Nate grabbed Leo’s arm and pulled him into their tea kitchen.