Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
He grins. “I don’t know, but you’ll have to make it up to me one day.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off as I walk to the door. “Don’t worry,” I say with a smile. “I’ll make it up to you in ways you can only dream of.”
He clutches his chest. “Stop, or I’ll think you’re flirting with me.”
“There’s only one man I flirt with, thank you very much.”
“Ah, your mystery man. I live for the day I can finally meet him.”
I toss a smile over my shoulder. “It might be coming sooner than you think.”
“Wait!”
“See you!” I throw my hand up in a hurried wave and rush away, leaving him gaping after me very unprofessionally.
Honestly, we’re at his office. Doesn’t he have anything better to do than stare after me as if I’ve just spoilt the ending of his favourite movie franchise?
The thought makes me suppress a giggle, and I make my way to the ground floor of the building. A red car is waiting outside, and I walk up to the driver’s side. Thankfully, Finn has arranged for the same person to pick me up every day even if the cars change, so I recognise the man in the seat and get into the back.
“Good afternoon,” Sophia says brightly. “You’re a bit late.”
“Sorry, my meeting ran a little over.” I close the door behind me, and after she nods to the driver, he pulls away. “Can you tell me what’s on the schedule for today?”
“I can, but His Royal Highness told me you probably aren’t going to like it, so I think I’ll wait.”
My head snaps around so I can glare at her, and she deliberately looks out of the window. “Sophia…”
“Sorry,” she says with a wince. “I think it’s best he tell you. For me, that is. It’s best for me.”
***
“An interview?” The words squeak out of me, and I blink aimlessly at Finn. “A fricking live interview? Have you lost your mind?”
He presses his lips together. “Unfortunately, it’s tradition. But don’t worry—the reporter, Melissa Nelson, is from the national news station. She’s been fully vetted, signed all the appropriate confidentiality forms, and we’ve been over what questions she can and cannot ask. My mother trusts her more than any other journalist.”
I press my hand to my face, covering one of my eyes. “No. I can’t do this. I don’t have any media training. I’m not prepared at all.”
“We’ve pushed it as late as we can. It needs to be edited before it airs the day after the banquet, and that’s ten days away.”
“I know that, but you never said I’d have to do a live interview. Of all the things you warned me about, don’t you think this should be one you should have mentioned?”
“Don’t panic.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Mr Thirty-Years-Of-Media-Training!”
He takes my hands and pulls me against him. He wraps his arms tightly around my body, pinning mine to my sides, and rests his chin on top of my head.
In the last ten days, I’ve realised one thing: this is what he thinks will calm me down when I get a bit agitated.
Which, well.
Annoyingly, he’s completely right, although I have no intention of telling him that.
“I have the questions here. You can read them over and veto any you’re uncomfortable answering before she arrives,” he says quietly. “You already know that our engagement is going to open a can of worms and drag up all the stories from when you went missing. People are going to want answers, and we have to be prepared to give them. We might be able to head a few off before they become a point of discussion.”
“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact the gossips masquerading as reporters think you’re marrying Jasmine Sinclair and that the two of you are in a long-term, secret relationship.”
He pauses.
“Finn…”
“All right, so one of the questions to me is about that. I intend to firmly deny ever having any type of relationship with her.”
I sniff, turning my face away. “You better.”
He releases his hold on me slightly and leans back, grinning down at me. “I quite like your possessive streak, do you know that?”
“You’re insane.” I wriggle out of his hold and walk across the room with a sigh. “They’re going to ask about my family, aren’t they? About our relationship. And I’m going to have to lie and say it’s hunky dory, perfectly fine, not toxic in the slightest. Stuff like that.”
He hesitates. “There’s a question regarding them on the list, yes. But like I said, you have full control over what you answer. We can wipe it.”
I nod. “Please do. Given the situation it can’t be avoided entirely, but I’d rather not discuss my relationship with them right now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. You didn’t really think I was going to let them all go down as innocent people, did you?” I raise my eyebrows. “I plan to make the people fall dreamily in love with me as their crown princess, then plant enough little hints to the internet sleuths so that they figure out what really happened in their own way. Then, when I ruin the Sinclairs, everyone will feel sorry for me, not them.”