get the bus home to go undetected.”
“No,” Xander says firmly, and by the tone in that one word, I know Captain Wales has come out. “You will not. I want to make sure you get home safely. I’ll call a black cab. My protection officer will take you up to the gate to wait for it when you are ready. I’ll pay for it.”
“You don’t have to pay for it!” I cry, shaking my head.
“I insist. You let me know when you are ready, and I’ll get one.”
I tilt my head to the side. “This is your ‘do not argue with me’ expression, isn’t it?”
He tilts his to the opposite side and stares back at me. “Yes, it is.”
I giggle as I sit up straight again. I like Xander’s sense of humour.
“You know, whenever I’ve seen you on TV, you were one of two things: serious and undertaking a royal duty, or wild, like the photos of you in a nightclub. I rather like this you, with your sense of humour.”
And warmth, I add to myself. He should let this warmth come out in his public appearances.
“Those were both me, but different parts of me,” he says. “I take my duty, whether it’s military or royal, seriously. But the part of me that let loose in the clubs and bars? That was me escaping my reality. Christian escaped his by hiding away. I escaped mine with partying and girls.”
I think back to the articles I had seen about both him and Christian in the past. Xander’s headlines always screamed about his string of beautiful conquests; Christian was labelled as a hermit and recluse up at Cambridge.
“Both escapes were true at the time,” Xander says, reading my mind again. He pauses to take another drink and slowly puts the glass back down on the table. “Neither are true now.”
His gaze locks on mine as he speaks. I find myself growing warm from the intensity of his stare.
“And you don’t feel the need to escape now?”
“No, I don’t.”
Ooh!
“Do you have a Connectivity account?” he asks, switching the subject.
I nod. He is referring to the social media platform that most people my age favour. “I do.” Then I wrinkle my nose. “But surely, you do not.”
“Wrong. I have an account for my activities as the Prince of Wales across all platforms, Connectivity included.”
“Oh, yes, that makes sense. I was thinking of a personal one.”
“Hmm, it does seem a rather risky move for the next in line to the throne to have a social media account, doesn’t it?”
A smile plays at his lips. He lifts his hand to his face and absently runs his thumb over that full bottom lip, causing heat to surge within me. Oh, God, his mouth is beautiful. Desire to kiss those lips of his and taste the wine on his tongue burns hot, and for the life of me, I can’t think of anything else but doing just that.
“I don’t think you would,” I say, mesmerised by the way he’s touching his mouth.
He removes his hand.
Hmm. I notice he seems to touch his neck a lot. I wonder if he touches his mouth in the same way he touches his neck. A habit, something he does without thinking.
“What if I told you I do have a personal account? One only a handful of people know about?”
I blink in surprise. “You do? Don’t you worry about someone finding it out? Or hacking it?”
“Oh, the suits in the palace would implode if they knew,” Xander says, a gleeful smile spreading across his face. “Which makes it more fun, actually. But I do. I’ll send you a connect request. It will be from Kevin Smith.”
I laugh. “Why Kevin Smith?”
“Why not? He sounds vague.”
I smile at him. “I shall accept his connect request. What is your profile pic?”
“The picture is of something I love, and only the squad knows about it.”
I take another sip of wine. “The squad?”
“The squad is my family. Christian and James,” he says, referring to his brothers. “Liz, Bella, and Victoria,” he continues, naming his cousins. “And their significant others. That’s Clementine, of course, and Roman, Liz’s fiancé.”
I’m being let in on something only his family knows about. Goosebumps sweep over my skin as this sinks in.
“I’m looking forward to seeing this avatar now,” I say, grinning.
“I assure you, it’s fascinating,” he teases.
I smile, as I have no doubt it is.
We finish the wine and continue to talk. I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I find my body