His Royal Favorite Read Free

won’t be ready.”
    Once again, James stared at him, uncomprehending. Ms. Tseng fielded that one: “Dry cleaners normally have a delay of several days before clothing is ready to be returned, sir. Express service is often available but must be requested in advance.”
    “Which I didn’t do, since I didn’t exactly have this scheduled,” Ben said.
Good God, it’s going to be like dating someone from another planet.
    James had already moved on. “I’m going to message my valet. Paulson can get your measurements and scrounge something up.”
    “Speaking of Mr. Dahan’s flat . . .” Ms. Tseng hesitated. Ben had already learned that if something was big enough to give her pause, it was pretty damned big. But he still wasn’t fully braced for her saying, “Does he intend to keep it?”
    Ben and James looked at each other. When James said, “I should imagine so,” it felt as though Ben might be able to breathe again.
    “I’m going to make a suggestion you both may consider presumptuous,” she said. “While it would be preferable for Mr. Dahan to maintain another legal residence, for the weeks immediately following the announcement, I believe he should stay at Clarence House.”
    So much for breathing easy. “Why?” Ben said.
    James answered first. “She means the press. You have no idea how relentless they can be. They’d be outside the door of your building every morning, every night. Throwing things at your window in hopes you’ll look out, making your neighbors despise you. But you’ll have to deal with it at work regardless, won’t you? We’ll arrange a car for your commute; that should help.”
    Ben didn’t give a rat’s ass about this and intended to say so, but then Ms. Tseng added, “My concern is more about your ability to see each other. While the public is still getting used to the news, the last thing we need are reports that Mr. Dahan has arrived to stay the night, or left Clarence House first thing in the morning—”
    That was when James cut in. “You mean, it would be better if the tabloids couldn’t report every single time we have sex. Because they would, wouldn’t they?”
    She nodded. “Precisely, sir.”
    Move in with James? As of
tomorrow
? This was all racing away from Ben so far, so fast. He’d told himself he knew what it meant to be with James publicly, but it was already a hell of a lot more complicated than he’d counted on.
    But if the tabloids thought they could wrest Ben away from James, they were wrong. He was going to take pleasure in proving it.
    “Of course,” Ben said. “I’ll pack my things tonight.”
    “Yes?” James looked so damned happy that it made the rest worthwhile.
    So Ben smiled back. “Yes.”
    ***
    He looks like he’s drowning
, James thought.
    He’d believed it would be best if he simply did what he naturally did when he walked out of his private suite—if he set his personal concerns aside and became The Prince, the person he had to be in his public role—then Ben would understand this and match it. Ben always came across as so calm, so worldly. James had assumed there was no situation he couldn’t handle.
    It wasn’t that Ben
wasn’t
handling it, exactly, but his unease shadowed every word he spoke. Now James wondered if he’d gone about this all wrong.
    Did the persona he put on in his official duty come across as fake? It wasn’t; it was part and parcel of the job James had been born to, and as natural to him as anything else. Would Ben understand that?
    Once they’d finished with Kimberley and given Ben’s measurements to the valet, they returned to James’s private suite. Neither of them spoke until James had shut the door behind them. At that moment, Ben went still.
    “All right?” James said, trying to smile.
    Ben stood in the middle of the room, as if he no longer felt comfortable there. He didn’t answer immediately. Finally he said, “I didn’t realize you had a valet. Of course you do. As long as anyone in