The Billionaire Prince’s Stubborn Assistant by Leslie North Page 0,13

We’re barely staying afloat.”

Clem’s shoulders sagged, and Edward placed a hand over hers. He’d never really thought about the impact modernization had on companies like her family’s. “I’m sorry, Clem. I didn’t realize it was that bad here.”

Clem gave him a sad smile. “Business is bad, but working here isn’t. I’m proud of this place,” she said. “And I love the stuff we work with, as you know. Old things have stories written into them.”

“Want to show me around?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “But I’ll bet that all you’ll see is trash.”

“So, tell me why you see treasures,” he said and squeezed her hand.

Clem ushered him into the back room and began pointing out cherished pieces. She stood in front of a scratched wooden wheel and grinned. Edward had no idea what he was looking at.

“This spinning wheel is the only thing that survived a raging fire that destroyed an entire block of homes in the 1700s,” she told him.

“Why do you like it?” he wondered aloud.

“It reminds me of my favorite fairy tale,” she said.

“Sleeping Beauty,” he guessed, and she beamed at him.

“Maybe your childhood wasn’t as bleak as I pegged it to be,” she said, and he laughed.

“There’s so much merchandise,” he observed.

“Lack of demand,” she explained, and once again, guilt pulled at Edward’s heart.

He looked around the storage room, impressed once more by Clem’s passion and expertise. “I may not be fascinated by old things, Clem, but I have to admit, I’m more than a little fascinated by you.”

She blushed and looked away, but he took her chin in his hands.

“And I don’t mean just because you are a picture of loveliness.” He heard the intake of her breath and liked that his words had surprised her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and serious. “I mean that I admire the way you take such care of the things you appreciate.”

He tilted her face up toward his and leaned toward her. He could almost taste the sweetness he’d craved since that fateful night in the schoolyard. Heat swam between them, as he touched his lips to hers. At that same moment, someone called Clem’s name from the front of the shop, and Edward pulled back before their kiss could become anything more.

Dirk Wicke plodded through the door to the storage room and eyed the two of them. They were still standing too close.

“Clementine?” Dirk spoke his daughter’s name accusingly, or perhaps it only seemed that way because Edward felt guilty for crossing boundaries, especially in her father’s shop. He watched Clem swallow and smooth the hair to the side of her face. Her cheeks were cherry-red.

“I was just showing Edward the merchandise back here,” she said, and Edward nearly choked on the irony of her words.

As Clem’s father eyed them smartly, the taste of her lingered on his lips.

Clem cursed herself for allowing that kiss to happen—and in the shop, at that! She’d promised her father she would play nice, but she was sure he wouldn’t consider locking lips with the client as part of that bargain.

“Edward,” Clem said. “I just have to finish up here and I’ll be back to the castle. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Alright,” he answered, his eyes imploring hers. Was he looking for the meaning behind their kiss? If so, she didn’t have any answers for him. Clementine’s stomach was in knots. Between her attraction to Edward and the shock of her father almost catching them in the act, she didn’t know which way was up.

Edward turned to her father. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Wicke,” he said and held a hand out to shake.

“How are things working out with the renovation?” Dirk asked, and Edward smiled.

“With your daughter on the job, it’s been seamless. In fact, I’ve been quite lost without her today.” He grinned unashamedly at Clem, and a glow bloomed on her cheeks. She brushed away the blush, hoping her father wouldn’t notice.

“See you later, Edward.” She ushered him out of the store, careful not to stand to close to him while her father was lurking.

Edward locked eyes with her. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he said and left.

She caught her breath then turned around to see her father standing right behind her. His arms were crossed over his chest, an air of suspicion in his narrowed eyes.

“When I told you to play nice—” he began and Clem’s face sank into her hands.

“I know!” she said, admitting her guilt. She could never hide