The Prince and the PA
Maisey Yates

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Copyright

Endpages

Chapter One

“Breathe. Come on, Karen, just breathe.” Karen Roberts stood in the back of the opulent ballroom in the Kyonosian palace, hugging a pillar, using it as a lifeline as she listened to the announcement.

“The wedding will take place in just over three weeks.” King Stephanos of Kyonos’s voice was loud and sure, everyone in attendance held captive by his words. By the promise of a union between Kyonos and Komenia.

Which meant the union between King Stephanos’s daughter, Princess Evangelina Drakos, and Komenia’s prince, Bastian Van Saant—respected ruler, tyrannical boss and the love of Karen’s life—was now set in stone.

It was just stupid to be whiny and soggy about it. Bastian had had four years to wake up and notice that she was a woman. A woman with breasts and everything, which he seemed to like, by all accounts. But he’d never liked hers.

Or at least, he’d never made any show of liking hers.

Well, there was that one time when— But she didn’t let herself think about that. And anyway, since that one time she wasn’t letting herself think about, he hadn’t shown any interest in her.

And she shouldn’t want him to, given their differences. Except she did. And if she couldn’t have forever, she was reduced to wanting at least one night with him, and that was destructive beyond reason. She wasn’t a one-night-stand girl. She was a commitment girl. She’d only had one boyfriend, and that had lasted three years. Then, just after she’d graduated from college, she’d gotten the offer of a job in the Komenian palace, and her enthusiastic “Heck, yeah!” hadn’t gone down well with the man in her life, who hadn’t seen the point of trying the long-distance thing.

Which had worked out nicely since she’d fallen head over heels for Prince Bastian the moment she’d set foot in his office. Her feelings for Bastian had been pointless from the first moment she’d seen him, and they were even more pointless now. But still her body ached for his, and now her heart hurt so bad she wanted to cut it out with a spoon.

She sucked in a breath and turned, walking out the back doors and into the empty corridor. She was shaking. And seriously afraid she might vomit.

She and Bastian were staying here in the palace, and it was lovely. But right now it wouldn’t have mattered if she was here or in a fleabag motel. Because no matter how opulent her surroundings, it didn’t make this whole thing suck any less.

She wandered down the corridor and to the left, stopping for a second, unsure now, with the lights dimmed and the halls empty of servants, if she’d gone in the right direction. It had taken long enough to get used to the layout of the massive palace in Komenia; she could hardly adjust to a brand-new castle in twelve hours. Especially when she was grappling with epic heartbreak.

She took a few more turns but didn’t recognize any of the uniform doors. Or rather, she didn’t think any of them looked particularly more like the door to her room than the others did. Well, shoot. Now she was heartbroken and lost.

She stopped walking and leaned back against the wall, resting her head on the cold marble. Tonight was the worst night of her life. Worse than anything, ever.

But then, a girl had to expect this kind of thing when she went and fell in love with a prince. Especially when that girl was as ordinary as could be. She closed her eyes and she let the old memory play out in her mind, that one time he’d looked at her like a woman.

It had been just after his father had died. She’d been working late in the office and he, unable to sleep, had come in unannounced. She could remember—so strong, so vivid—him sitting on the edge of her desk, pain and sadness etched on his handsome face.

“I hardly knew him, Karen. He was a figurehead, even to me. Hardly a person. I worry sometimes that that is what I’ll become, too. That there will be no one to grieve for me as a human being when I die. They’ll only be grieving for an ideal. Because being a ruler means putting your feelings away. Denying it all for a bigger picture.”

“I know how you feel, Bastian. I mean…kind of. On a smaller scale. I had to leave my boyfriend for this job. It’s not ruling but it’s…the bigger picture.”

“Do you ever worry that it will keep you from finding happiness?”

She looked up at him, and she saw her shot at real happiness. “Sometimes.”

He leaned in, his lips close to hers. “I wonder what it would be like to just forget it all for a while. To do something…something I shouldn’t.”

She’d really, really wanted to be that something he shouldn’t do. But he’d pulled away. And instead they’d started making plans to see his father’s vision for the country through. To make sure his father’s life, his sacrifices, counted.

At the end of that night’s planning session, they’d concluded Bastian needed a good, dynastic marriage to make his father’s dreams a reality. And marriage to the Princess of Kyonos had been discussed even then, while Karen’s heart cracked and bled.

“Karen?”

Karen’s head snapped up and she looked down the dim corridor toward the sound of the voice that occupied her dreams.

“Bastian. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be dancing away with your new fiancée?” She tried not to say the last word like it was poison in her mouth. But it was, and she didn’t think she was all that successful in pretending otherwise.

“Evangelina had to go attend to some issues,” he said.

“What issues?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“You don’t particularly sound like you care.”

“I don’t,” he said. “You know I don’t.” And that right there was the thing that sucked worst of all. Bastian didn’t love Eva. He didn’t even like her. He didn’t know her. He was marrying her only because the alliance would benefit his country.

If he’d loved her, well, then Karen could have maybe dealt with it. You couldn’t fight love, and all that. But to see a man like Bastian—a man she knew had so much passion simmering beneath the surface, bound up by honor and duty just waiting to be unleashed—waste it all on convenience…it was unendurable.

“Well, perhaps you should start caring. Misplacing one’s fiancée could be termed careless.”

He shrugged. “That is true. A mislaid princess could become problematic.”

“No comment on the possible double entendre there.”

Bastian chuckled and a warm feeling spread through her chest. He had a way of making her feel so good just for being herself. They had clicked immediately and easily, from the first day she’d taken the position as his assistant.

“I’ve never mislaid a princess in my life,” he said, taking a step toward her, the glimmer of humor in his dark eyes devastating to her remaining composure.

And if that hadn’t done it, the sight of him, the proximity, would have. He was just so…perfect. Everything a man should be. Tall, broad shouldered, elegant in his custom-made tux that concealed a lot of hard-packed, well defined muscle. Bastian worked out shirtless and in dark pants that rode low on his lean hips and showed off all kinds of interesting lines and acres of golden, gorgeous skin.

Not that she dwelled on that. Except she did. She totally did. All the time.

“I would bet you’ve never mislaid anyone,” she said, horrified by the sudden change in her tone. The drop in pitch, the bit of huskiness. She sounded turned on. That happened when she was around Bastian. She got all Jessica Rabbit if she wasn’t careful. Though, much like her breasts, he rarely seemed to notice.

“The complaint is usually with my means of ending relationships rather than my bedside manner, I admit.”

“Well, that’s one perk to getting married, isn’t it? You don’t have to worry about dating politics.”

“It’s true,” he said, leaning against the wall, his eyes focused on a spot somewhere past her head.

“You sound about as thrilled as you did the last time I had to schedule you an appointment with the dentist.”

“Marriage is a bit like that.”

“Best to be numb before the drilling?” He shot her a bland look. “Sorry.”

“You have the numb part right,” he said.

She swallowed hard, her throat aching. It was almost worse that he was unhappy. No, it was way worse that he wasn’t happy. “Being single isn’t that great. Actually, it’s really not great at all. No one to take you to dinner. No one to kiss you good-night. And you have to go on first dates. First dates are awkward. No one likes first dates.”

“And I will never have another one again.”

“You don’t sound as thrilled as you should.”

“How long has it been since you went on a first date, Karen? You’re always working, it seems like you never do much in the way of socalizing.”

Karen bit her lip. She really didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t been on a date since before she’d stepped onto Komenian soil.

“It’s been a while.”

“So maybe they aren’t as bad as you think.”

“I doubt it.”

“We could test the theory.”

“I’m sorry?”

Bastian turned his focus to her, dark eyes burning into hers. “We could test the theory. How would you like to be my last first date?”

Chapter Two

Bastian hadn’t intended to ask Karen on a date. It was a stupid idea. Likely the worst he’d ever had. And considering he’d once freed all of the lobsters from the tank in the palace kitchen as a child—during a ball—that was saying something.

But when he’d seen her standing there, looking lost and alone, his control had slipped. She was so soft. Touchable. Kissable. She was so very kissable. And she always had been, from the moment he’d met her. He’d had to tell himself that she was ten years too young for him, that she was in his employ and therefore off-limits. And that both of those problems were magnified by the fact that, were he to make a move on her, the only possible result was that the relationship would end.

She wasn’t royal. Their alliance would add nothing to Komenia, would not advance the country’s position on the world stage. He needed the alliance with Kyonos. It was the only way to make sure his father’s vision for the future of his country was carried out. His father’s dream had been to gain an unshakable military alliance with the island nation. To be able to make the most of both countries’ superior naval defenses and technology. It had been his father’s life’s work.

But it had been Bastian who had figured out the perfect way to accomplish it. To ensure the bond between the nations was unshakable. By marrying Kyonos’s princess.

And that meant, no matter how much he ached when he looked at Karen, there could be no future for them.

So he’d ignored the tug, the violent physical tug, he felt for her, compliments of her beauty, her auburn hair, her creamy skin and lush figure, not to mention his response to her laugh, her wicked humor and her quick wit.

Yes, he ignored all of that. Usually.

But as the union with Evangelina had grown closer to being finalized, it had become much more difficult. Because he was having to face the fact that there would never be a time with Karen. That he would never kiss her. Never touch her. Never share a dinner with her where she wasn’t acting as his damn PA.

But they could have tonight. They would do dinner tonight.

The rest would have to go untasted. There was no other choice.

The thought made his stomach tighten painfully.

“So…this date,” she said slowly. “Dutch? Or are you paying?”

“I’m paying,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers, on the glimmer of mischief there.

“Well, then, how can I resist?”

That was the question he was asking himself. How could he resist? A chance to pretend, for a moment, that he had his most cherished fantasy in his grasp. It would be an illusion. Like trying to take hold of a vapor. But he would try anyway. Would take that moment of near possession over having never come close to it at all.

He’d nearly kissed her once. The night of his father’s death. Ironic, because that was the night he’d accepted the necessity of putting all of his personal desires aside for the sake of his country. His father had done it, had given all, to lead. How could he do less?

“You can’t,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Give me one last thrill before I give everything up for God and country.”

“If dinner with me is a thrill, then I suppose I have to oblige you. We did already eat, though. Before the ball. And it’s nearly midnight.”

“Don’t be so practical, Karen. Have a sense of adventure.”

“It’s my job to be practical,” she said. “To keep your life organized and your feet on the ground.”

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Tonight, try not to be so sensible.”

She sucked her full lower lip between her teeth and gnawed it for a moment. The action sent a streak of heat down to his groin. Like an undiluted shot of alcohol rushing straight to his head.

“I’ll do my best.”

And the minute he said that, he knew he was lost. Because if Karen let go, if she stopped being sensible, he had a feeling he might make some very bad decisions tonight.

Karen’s breath left her body in a rush when she walked out onto the empty balcony overlooking the Aegean sea. Lights were strung overhead, lanterns hanging down low over vacant tables.

“How did you arrange this?” she asked.

“I’m a prince, it was no hardship.”

“And the fact that you’re here with a woman who is very much not your fiancée?”

“You’ve been my right hand for four years. Most people are used to seeing you with me at all times.”

“In a closed restaurant?”

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