Page 41 of The Press Secretary's Passion

I roll my eyes.

“We were just trying to get to the bottom of that,” Jake says.

“I figured it wasn’t as it seems,” he tells us, and I think for a second I would be happy to listen to him read the phone book or the dictionary his voice is so damn pretty.

“I take it there’s a reason you called,” Jake urges.

“There are things in play that you don’t understand.”

“No,” Jake says, the fun tone of the room becoming serious.

“I found her,” he replies quietly.

“So it’s true?”

“It’s true,” Rhys confirms.

“Be safe,” Jake says.

“You as well, mate.” And then the line goes dead.

“What was that?” I ask.

“I think your question is more a ‘who was that?’” Ryan corrects.

“Okay,” I amend. “Who was that?”

“That was George Rhys John Aidan Alexander,” Jake answers. “Crowned Prince of the Isle of Saints.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“He has some stuff going down, so you can’t speak of this conversation,” he warns.

“I won’t.”

“This is serious, Jules,” Ryan adds. “No one can know.”

“Okay, I get it.” And I do. I have enough crazy shit going on in my life; I don’t need to know what a crowned prince has going down that would put that shocked tone in Jake’s voice. In fact, I don’t want to know anything else. I need thoseMen in Blackguys to come erase my memory. Actually, that sounds great, because then I could also forget Ryan’s beautiful cock and the magnificent orgasms he gives me with it, his hands, and his mouth.

“Now, back to your parents,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I let out a sigh.

“They want nothing more than for me to make a strong match for them,” I explain. “My whole life, I was raised with the knowledge that I was expected to become the wife of a powerful businessman who could benefit my father, or a strong politician who could help my brother with his political aspirations.”

“How is Gil?” Jake asks.

“Wanting me to call my mother so she will leave him alone,” I answer.

“And how’s that working out for him?”

“Not so good,” I reply and watch his lips twitch as he tries not to laugh. It must be difficult to be the president of the United States and have to try and be dignified all the time. “I fear my parents must have caught wind of the senior senator’s interviews and jumped on the bandwagon. I’ve since set them straight.”

“And what did they say to that?” Ryan asks from beside me.

“That I’m a disappointment, because what better link for Gil than to have his sister be the stepmother to the current president,” I answer. “We’re not currently speaking.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs for my ears only.

“I’ve told the press repeatedly that I’m not currently involved with anyone.”