Page 6 of Tabloid Princess

He flashed me another smile. “Most people are happy I’ve arrived at all.”

I shrugged. The air in the room didn’t want to fill my lungs. My gaze remained trained on his face no matter how much I wanted them to look at the pad of paper on the desk instead.

“The Beaufort Foundation. Isn’t that the charity you and your siblings maintain?”

He shifted, his eyes becoming guarded. “Yes.”

“But there’s only one of you.”

He uncrossed his legs. “I didn’t realise my being here was going to upset the marketing manager. If I’d known I wouldn’t have come.”

“Exactly! You say you don’t understand why we don’t have a higher profile, but this is why. I’ve been here for seven years and no one has ever heard a peep out of you, excluding the charity’s emblem at the top of our headed paper.”

His lips pressed into a firm line, his toe tapping as he analysed me for a lengthy pause. “You don’t look old enough to have been here for seven years.”

My cheeks flushed uncontrollably, and I offered him a tight-lipped smile. My hostility was rolling in his direction in tangible waves and I couldn’t pull it back in.

“You seem to have a very defined opinion of me despite us just meeting.”

I dropped my gaze for a millisecond willing myself to back down. I couldn’t though. Tight coils of anger flourished in my stomach.

“Not just you.” Lifting a hand, I brushed at my hair, trying to break the awkward as hell tension. “Listen. I’m sorry. It’s just this place is amazing. What it does is beyond belief. But if you are just here for one brief window in your busy royal schedule, then honestly, I don’t think you deserve to have your name on our headed paper. This place saves lives every single day. And I’m sorry if I’m being rude, or you aren’t used to people keeping it real for you, but this place means something to me, and I won’t see it played with.”

“So it’s not just because I’m a prick?”

Oh God above. The burning inferno my cheeks became was uncontrollable. “No.”

Silence hung like an oppressive cloud. From under a hooded gaze he watched me. My cheeks continued to flame as I sat under his scrutiny.

Then he leant forward, spreading his fingers across the desk like an open fan. When he spoke, his words tumbled quickly. “My brother and I are splitting the Beaufort Foundation. I went down the list and found the ones I thought sounded like something I could support. I’ve been reaching out to all of them. As Bright Futures is down the road from where I live, I thought instead of asking my assistants to call ahead I would just pop down.”

I struggled to make sense of his words. He lives where? St Mark’s Palace is the other side of town. Tourists take pictures of it all day.

Trying to pull myself together, I clenched my nails deep into my palm. I’d just been mortifyingly rude to the future King of England.

I found myself moving nearer to him. My mouth opened, primed to ask why the royal foundation was splitting. Instead I said, “You’ve got freckles.”

His laugh rang in my head. “I do. It’s true.”

Leaning closer still, I inspected them. “You don’t see them in the pictures in the papers.”

When he smiled, it was a genuine curve of his lips. It unravelled the tight tension in my chest as though by magic. “No. My freckles are secret. I’ll have to ask you to sign a secrecy disclaimer.”

“I’m surprised one of your kiss-and-tell girlfriends hasn’t sold them to the tabloids.”

I met his eyes, my breath catching a little. He inclined his head and a dart of something that almost felt like pain speared through my chest. “I guess they have other stories to sell.”

I wanted to see him smile again. As irrational as that need was, I couldn’t ignore it. “I’d sell the freckles. I think everyone would want to know about them.”

“You sound like a dangerous woman to know.”

I snorted loudly and then flushed scorching heat which prickled along the back of my already hot neck. “Deadly.”

He watched me, his lips curved at the edges, and I watched him, my heart unwilling to stop pounding so loud in my chest he could probably hear.

“So, you want to know what we do so you can decide if we are worthy of your support?”

His mouth twitched and I stared, or rather ogled, as he bit down on his lower lip. “Maybe I’ve decided.”