Page 13 of Jon’s Desert Prince Dream

“Yes, very much so. No one will be able to lie to me with you at my side.”

This seemed to stabilize him, somehow? I wasn’t sure how to frame it, how to explain, but I sensed from him a need to do something. A need to somehow forge a path here, gain some footing. He probably did feel very displaced after everything he’d survived the past several months.

If giving him a job would help, I’d be happy to do so. “Most of what I do is a routine patrol, really. I go from district to district and check in, handle emergencies, sometimes review very strange or awful crimes in order to sort them through the court system. From what you explained to Carol and Sharon, this is very much your strong suit. Would you like to hire on with my department? At least to start?”

“I would.” He canted his head a little at me. “I’d like to work, since I was given this insane amount of cash—”

The way he poked at the purse hanging at his side made me chuckle, like he was a little wary of its contents.

“—which, by the way, can’t be standard.”

“It is. The money is meant to support you until you’ve found a vocation and settled in, and can start drawing a steady paycheck. Easier to survive to that first paycheck if you have money in the purse.”

“Really hard to argue with that. And the building?”

“That is a perk of your ability.” I gestured to the buildings as we passed them. They were all of thick adobe, made to keep the intense heat of the sun out. People painted them all different colors, though, so it was much akin to walking through a rainbow. “Tennoa is very old, and it’s not actually that large, so there’s a limited pool of available houses. We build a certain amount every year, earmarking them for psychics, as you’re going to find it hard to buy a home otherwise. If a building comes up on auction, we tend to buy and renovate it as well. There’s very few abandoned buildings in this entire kingdom.”

“What if I don’t choose to keep the building?”

“The building is an asset,” I assured him. “Not an anchor. If it doesn’t suit you, or you don’t wish to keep it for whatever reason, you can sell it. The welcoming package you received is to set you up for success. You must choose what success looks like for you.”

“That’s reassuring. I’m not really sure what to do with it at the moment.”

“We’re close. Take a look, at least.”

I turned the corner and gestured to the building sitting squarely in the middle of the block. It was narrow—as most of the buildings were—painted pastel green, and stood two stories tall with a very cute garden tucked in along the side. It was very much meant for a business on the main floor, with an apartment on the second.

Jon fetched the key from his belt ring and slid it into the door, then stepped in hesitantly. Why was he feeling so insecure?

The house felt excellent to me. Someone had freshly repainted the walls, so they were all white, the red tiled floors seemed to have been swept in the past week or so. Someone had come in to check on the place and clean it up a little. This bottom floor was incredibly open—you could see all the way to the back patio, which had a small garden and water fountain. Stairs were the only main feature on this bottom floor, directly to the right and leading up. Jon went up them, and I followed as he went from sitting room, to kitchen, to bathing room, to bedroom, then eventually onto the back balcony that overlooked the side and back garden. Everything was clean but barely furnished, with only a bed, two chairs, and a kitchen table in the way of furniture up here. Enough to survive with until you could buy your own, which was also standard.

He looked down at the flower beds and water fountain and said softly, “You said housing was rare. So how did I warrant one in the heart of the city?”

“I asked them to keep you nearby,” I admitted. “There’s multiple options around the country, and you can switch if you’d like, but this was the closest building to the palace.”

He lifted his head and stared blindly out. “My family would kill to own something this nice. I’m…not sure how to react to just being handed a building.”

There were many, many things I didn’t know about him and this seemed the time to ask. “What is your family like?”

“Nothing like yours. Father who abandoned me as a child, mother who’s also psychic and does her level best to ignore her ability, abusive stepfather. My sister is my main comfort, and the only one I’ll really miss. She just got married, actually, to a very good man. That’s my only comfort, that my sister will be fine.”

The urge to hold this man, already very strong, grew stronger. I slid an arm around his shoulders, tentatively, not sure if he would accept comfort from me. Some who had never had someone to trust didn’t know how to accept comfort.

To my surprise, he leaned into my hold, trusting his body weight against my chest. Was that a soft, happy sigh I heard as well?

“Write to her,” I said tenderly. “At least that way she’ll know you’re all right. You can even invite her here.”

“I think I will. I bet I can convince her to move here, really. She doesn’t like Orleansa. She’ll be in a far better living situation.” Jon perked up a little, glancing about the building more. “Oh! Maybe I can offer her the house. That would be the best use for it, truly. She and Aaron would love this place.”

I found it cute that he wanted to give a house to his sister, whom he clearly adored. And yet, it did beg the question: “So you won’t consider staying in it?”

“That’s up to you.” Jon lifted the glasses up to rest on his head, then looked up at me with those stunning, penetrating blue eyes. I felt like I had no secrets from this man and knew that instinct to be true. “How much I’m in your life is completely up to you.”

5

I wasn’t challenging Prince Donovan, far from it. I wanted to clear the air, or somehow stop dancing around his desire to be my anchor, to be mine. Prince Donovan clearly wasn’t the type to be pushy; he was quite content to go at my pace. Which was incredibly strange to me as every other male in my life had been pushy, often to my detriment. So it was odd to need to push the topic when I’d never in my life done so.

Prince Donovan’s lust spiked and I could see it, almost feel it in its intensity. Or perhaps that was my own desire rising to the challenge. I wanted this man, to the point it scared me. He represented everything in my life I’d yearned for and found impossible to have: safety, protection, and true affection. I thought such things were a fantasy and truly, most of the time being with him felt like a delusion—a fever dream to help me survive my horrific circumstances. Surely this man had to be a figment of my imagination.