The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant by Leslie North Page 0,12

might be surprised once you get to know him better,” her father said. “Maybe you can sway him to our side, get him invested in a little bit of history.”

“Maybe,” Clem said then told her dad she loved him before saying goodbye.

She didn’t think it was possible for Edward to ever see things the way she did, and she wasn’t going to waste time finding out. She’d do her job well and play nice. She’d get her hands on whatever she could at various demolition sites. But the one thing she would not do was get close to the prince.

5

Edward stood, brows furrowed, staring at two samples of stone that looked identical. The contractor wanted him to choose one for the refortification of the massive castle gate.

“Your project manager requested our chalk and sea pebble blend, but it’s on back order, so I brought a limestone with two different grain sizes in two different hues.” The black-haired woman moved her reading glasses to her nose and looked up at him, waiting for an answer.

“Uhhh.” He didn’t know what to say. The stone samples seemed the same to him. She held out a pamphlet.

“Here is a close-up image of the chalk and sea pebble blend,” she said, pointing to a picture of another yet identical stone. “You can see the similarities.”

Edward threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know,” he said. “You pick.”

With that, he stomped away from the perplexed looking woman. Where was Clementine when he needed her?

In truth, he had to admit that Clem had been doing an amazing job so far on the restoration of the castle. In a few short weeks, she’d tacked down reliable contractors, had successfully overseen specific jobs that had been true thorns in Edward’s side before she’d arrived on the scene. When she’d requested a personal day to help out at her family’s shop, he couldn’t have denied her.

Here he was now, though, at ten in the morning, feeling lost without her. First the painters asking about window frame shade, and now this woman with the stone.

“Prince Edward.”

He heard someone calling his name and turned around to see a small man holding a bucket in his hands. He was waving at Edward with his other hand.

What now?

“I’m here to refinish the tray ceiling in the master suite,” he said. “I was wondering if you preferred a wax-based paint or oil-based.”

Dear God.

“I’ll be right back,” he lied and sidestepped around the man.

“Lance,” he called into the front office where his driver tended to camp out during the day with his favorite coffee and crossword puzzles. “I need to get to Wicke Salvage, post-haste.”

Lance emerged from the office, a half of a pretzel rod hanging out of his mouth.

“Can’t seem to live without that young lady these days, can you, sir?”

Edward shot Lance a dirty look as he slid into the car…but he didn’t try to deny it. It was true. He needed Clem. He’d called her numerous times and texted her, but she hadn’t responded, which was completely unacceptable. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the back door until they arrived at the pristine storefront on the dingy street.

“I’ll be back,” he told Lance and slammed the door.

Upon entering the shop, he immediately spied Clementine at the counter on the phone. She caught sight of him but showed no reaction to his presence.

“Yes, sir,” she said into the phone. “I understand your frustration with—”

Edward could hear a man’s voice, yelling and using foul language, on the other end of the line. He fought the urge to grab the phone from Clem and defend her against this rude asshole.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way, sir,”

Edward had yet to experience this calm, collected side of Clementine. She lost her temper daily with him when he suggested something that she found abhorrent.

“Is there something I can do to—”

But the man hung up, leaving Clem to shrug and place the phone down.

“Why didn’t you tell that idiot to sod off?” Edward asked.

“Wicke Salvage isn’t exactly in the position, financially, to be turning customers away, no matter how rude they may be,” she told him and ran a hand through messy hair.

Edward felt a pang of sympathy for Clem and the pressure she was under to keep her family business afloat.

“We need all the work we can get,” she continued. “Especially since most people out there are like you, seduced by whatever is the newest thing. People want modern and flashy, and here we are offering antiques.