“So you’re a banker?” she asked with mock horror. Thabiso couldn’t help but laugh. She could pull that out of him, even though he was neck deep in shit.

“I have to study all day,” Ledi said, and her gaze darted toward the door across the hall. She sighed and he knew what she was thinking. Mrs. Garcia would be back soon—Likotsi had received the online check-in info for her flight in an email. Thabiso didn’t want to think of going back to his real life.

“Do you have plans tomorrow night?” he asked.

“You have plans tomorrow night,” Likotsi interjected.

“I do,” Ledi said, gaze darting between them. “Maybe I can make time for you afterward.”

Thabiso knew her well enough to understand many men probably hadn’t received that grace from her. He was tempted to have Likotsi tell Ledi the truth right then so it could be done—wasn’t that part of her duties as a royal assistant?—but he owed Ledi more than that.

Likotsi cleared her throat. Thabiso squeezed Ledi’s hand, and then stepped out the door and crossed the hall with his enraged assistant.

As soon they got into the apartment, she whirled on him. “You silly, self-important, rhinoceros-skulled man! What are you thinking? How could you toy with her like this?”

He noticed the tears standing in Likotsi’s eyes then, but she quickly dashed them away. “Oh never mind. Some people enjoy playing games with others’ emotions, it seems. I’m tired of being your conscience. You’ll have to develop your own.”

Thabiso was unsure of how to proceed. Earlier in the evening, she’d been walking on cloud nine as she headed off for a date with her mystery woman. “Do you want to talk? Did something happen with the woman you’re seeing? Is that why you fetched me?”

Likotsi sucked her teeth. “I would never be so unprofessional as to burst into a room and demand you listen to my problems. That’s your job.”

Thabiso couldn’t argue with that.

She sighed. “I’m not seeing her anymore, so there’s nothing to talk about.” Her eyes glistened but she kept her face expressionless. “You, on the other hand, have a problem.”

“I was trying to solve that problem by telling Naledi the truth when you interrupted us,” Thabiso gritted out. Why was everyone making this so bloody difficult?

“No, actually there’s a new problem,” Likotsi said as she pulled her handy tablet out and tapped and dragged. “An email from your parents, Your Highness.”

She handed the tablet over.

Subject: Your Fiancée Has Been Selected.

Thabiso glanced up at Likotsi, whose expression was perfectly blank.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he asked, scraping a hand through his beard. He still smelled of Ledi.

Likotsi shrugged. “I’ve offered you romantic advice several times over this trip, to no avail. Figure it out yourself. Sire.”

With that, she clicked the heels of her spats and wandered into the bathroom, one of the few places in the apartment where she wouldn’t have to look at him.

Thabiso dropped down onto the couch. Perhaps he could be Thesolo’s first bachelor king? At this rate, his love life was more complicated than keeping a small nation thriving.

Chapter 18

Ledi spent the following day at the lab and then studying with Trishna, despite the temptation to cancel, leave her door open, and spread herself out suggestively on her bed. But even Jamal and his amazing body couldn’t make her forgo her studies. She’d worked too hard and had too much still stacked against her to let her infatuation get that deep.

Still, her attention span wasn’t up to her usual high standards. Her brain was more interested in replaying brief snippets of the most amazing sex of her life than reading case studies. When she could push thoughts of Jamal away, and thoughts about having so many thoughts about Jamal, her nervousness about her introduction to Dr. Okri that evening was already lined up and ready to tag in for Team Distracto.

When Trishna had finally demanded to know why she was acting so strange, Ledi had hedged, but then she remembered Jamal telling her to delegate. That she didn’t have to do everything herself. She’d explained her dilemma, and Trishna had gone into action, emailing her network of friends for help in finding a new practicum for Ledi in case Dr. Okri didn’t work out.

Ledi wondered at the strange burning behind her eyes as she watched her classmate’s fingers fly over her laptop keyboard. First Portia, and now Trishna, who she’d shielded herself from all of these months.

It’s almost as if people will help you out if you let them in, a not so subtly sarcastic part of her mind chimed in. It’s almost like it’s okay to need that sometimes.

After parting from Trishna with a hug, Ledi returned home, fed the Grams, and hurriedly got dressed for the fundraiser. She chose a purple knee-length sheath dress that hugged and enhanced her curves, paired with a black shawl and her fanciest heels. She moisturized her hair and fluffed it so it framed her face and dabbed on simple but elegant makeup. As she prepared herself, she couldn’t stop hoping that Jamal would knock on the door with a Yellow Spatula box and a smile. Maybe nothing else. Even if she’d have to turn down an offer of dinner, there was always the possibility of dessert when she returned.

But that brief fantasy was doused by the reality that even if she saw him later in the night, by next week he’d be another notch on her bedpost. That was all he could be, especially given the fact that he was apparently some rich kid and she was decidedly not. Her stomach flipped, but she focused on blotting her lipstick instead.