A/N - Thank you for taking the time to read and review the first chapter. The muse wasn't done yet so here's a new chapter. Hope you guys like it.

Eleanor stifles a yawn. It's her third night of entertaining the President of something-or-other and she's knackered. Before it was easy to turn on the charm and party her ass off - all she had to do was drop some E, do a few shots, and she was good to go. Now, when she's actually trying to do the whole sober thing, schmoozing is hell. And massively boring when the company sucks.

"What do you think, your highness?"

Realising the conversation's turned back to her, she fakes a smile for the President. "It's brilliant."

The balding jerk stares back at her, gobsmacked. "You approve of what the terrorists did?"

Oh, shit.

"Of course not. Len simply meant the way the military handled the situation was brilliant," Liam adds quickly.

She sends her brother a grateful smile. Liam may not have been born to be King but that's exactly who he was now, and she couldn't have been more proud. If only he hadn't insisted on keeping Jasper as his bodyguard.

Her heart clenches in pain at the thought of his name alone.

Fuck Jasper.

Fuck Jasper.

Fuck Jasper.

He was supposed to have left two weeks ago, but of course he hadn't. Another thing he'd lied about. He'd acted like her offer of a severance cheque had been deeply insulting, and his shitty excuse that he was staying for her was just that - a goddamn bloody excuse.

It hurt to see him, to cross paths with him practically every day. Most of the time she pretended to look right through him but it didn't seem to matter as his gaze was glued to her, his blue eyes striking, penetrating her to the very core whenever they were in close proximity to each other. She desperately wanted to stop her body from reacting to his steely yet heated gaze.

She gives herself a mental shake, telling herself to snap out of it. The last thing she should be doing is thinking about Jasper. At least he isn't here tonight - day off or something - and she's grateful.

Craving a cigarette, she stands up and excuses herself from the table. Liam shoots her a disappointed look but she ignores it, heading out of the large room.

"Your highness," Mr. Hill greets in his usual chipper tone.

As he starts following behind her, she turns around. "Just need a smoke. Not looking for company."

He stops, gives her a cheerful smile. "I'll remain here then."

"Thank you."

Soon she's standing by herself on the small terrace, taking a drag off her ciggie when she hears the terrace door open, then close behind her. Expecting to find Mr. Hill, she whirls around with a smile - but it's not her current bodyguard at the door. No, it's the one who's let her down time and time again and done a shoddy job of protecting her. Well, fine. Maybe that's not entirely true. Jasper was a great bodyguard, but when it came to everything else he was an asshole. "You're not welcome here, Jasper."

"I'm working."

"Thought you were off today."

"Been checking up on me?"

She hates the satisfied glint in his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself." She takes another puff. "Last time I checked I don't look like Liam. So you're guarding the wrong body, don't you think?"

"Well, you are twins."

Her gaze wavers down his form, taking in his casual outfit. The blue sweater is moulded perfectly to his muscular frame, and his jeans... she has to stop herself from remembering how fit he looks without any clothes on. Okay, yeah, it's been a while since she's gotten any but that's no reason to act like a thirsty bitch in front of him. Especially him. "Get lost, Jasper. I'm not in the mood for you tonight."

He doesn't leave. Of course he doesn't. Instead he swaggers towards her, wearing the same cocky smile that makes her heart jump up in her chest. He comes to a stop in front of her, peering at her, as if daring her to hold his gaze. She does.

And then he reaches for her cigarette.

His thumb lingers against her lips, stroking her with a feather-light touch, before taking the cigarette from her and pressing it between his own lips.

She trembles, despite herself.

"Cold, your highness?" he asks with an arrogant smirk.

"Fuck yourself, Jasper."

"Fine, but it's not as much fun without you." He drops the ciggie to the floor, rubs it out with his foot.

Her breath catches in her throat as he takes a step closer, forcing her to grip the banister behind her.

"I miss you," he whispers, his fingers wrapping around her waist.

"Sounds like you're just horny," she fires back, hating her quivering voice.

He smiles. "It has been a while." His hands caress up her arms, and she can feel goose bumps on her skin. Bloody hell. He starts playing with her hair, teasing her, his eyes still fixated on her.

Her breath starts coming out in short spurts.

"You know what I miss the most, Len?" he whispers closely, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear.

"I don't care," she mutters with great difficulty.

"The sound that you make when you come. Your voice gets me so hard."

The bastard may be hell-bent on wreaking havoc with her body, but she refuses to yield. She closes her eyes.

"I miss the way you taste, and your loud moans when I go down on you."

Oh god. She misses his goddamn mouth on her, all the ways he can get her off. The memories off all their times together come flashing back, filling her body with excitement. It's been so long. Too long. And she wants him so fucking much.

"I miss being inside you, making love to you."

It's his manipulative words that break through the spell. Gathering whatever strength she can manage, she pushes him away. He falters back, but he doesn't seem surprised by her actions.

"We never made love, Jasper. We fucked. That was all."

"It was a lot more than that, Princess, and you know it."

"Oh, so did you make love to mom too?" she taunts, even if the words sting like hell.

"We're back on that again, are we?" he drawls. "You want me, Len, and I want you. But it's not just sex. It hasn't been about that in a long time."

"I don't trust you, and I'm never gonna let you in again."

At last the cocky expression on his face slips, but she feels no relief - not when he stares back at her with a vulnerability that breaks her heart.

"Sooner or later, Len, you will. Even if you can't see that now."

"You don't really believe that."

"I do."

The quiver in his voice is so subtle she wonders if it's just a figment of her imagination.

"I have to," he continues.

He turns around and storms off, leaving her by herself once again.

She contemplates going back in to find a bottle of tequila, but she knows it'd be pointless. No amount of booze is going to erase the memory of Jasper's body pressed against her, the low murmur of his voice seducing her. More than anything, she misses the way he'd spoon her in bed, hold her close after they had sex.

Fingers trembling, she fishes for a cigarette in her fish to take off the edge.