"Your name, miss?"

"Excuse me?" replied Eleanor rudely, looking up from her phone in alarm. An email from one of her assistants had caught her attention- there was a delay in the fake snow arrival for the ball. She wanted to turn the back garden into an ice rink since the canal had yet to freeze. Her mother, the Dowager Queen, said the preposterous. "Who would want to skate in a ballgown, Eleanor? Or be outside, for that matter?"

Fortunately, her sister-in-law, the reigning Queen Wilhelmina, thought it was an excellent idea, and gave her free reign to turn the back garden into an elegant wintery grotto. It still didn't didn't stop her mother from trying to interfere at any possible chance she could. The woman seemingly had an unnatural fear of being forgotten by the people. Or by the media. Or London's high society.

The barista across the counter went white as a sheet. Eleanor coughed. "I'm sorry. Holidays, am I right? My name is uh-," she stuttered. The young girl stared blankly, still holding the empty cup tightly in one hand, the other limply held a black marker between her fingers. "Matilda."

"Matilda," she repeated incredulously.

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, her eyes flickering to the tag on her chest baring the name 'Olivia' and several seasonal stickers. "Matilda. Would you like to see my ID, too?"

"Right," replied Olivia slowly as she wrote it out. Clearly, working in a Starbucks in a luxury department store gave this one some sort of superiority complex. If only she knew. "£3.50 for your tea, then."

Eleanor slowly began to reach for her wallet, narrowing her eyes.

"I'll get it. Add a venti black to her order. Jasper for the cup, Olivia," replied a voice from behind her. Eleanor felt a hand press lightly into the small of her back as her head whipped around in alarm, her jaw slack as the man she had run into earlier in housewares stared back at her, his blue eyes twinkling dangerously. He wanted her to challenge him.

"Alright. Er, seven quid then," snapped Olivia, clearly unimpressed that this transaction managed to escalate to another level of absurdity.

Eleanor turned back to the barista and offered her a quick, tight smile as a grey credit card was passed between them. She cast a wary look over her shoulder. The line behind them was out the door. Shit.

She furrowed her brow as the man she now knew apparently as Jasper ushered her to the other end of the counter to join another cluster of awaiting patrons.

"You used me to jump the line? Your ignorance really knows no bounds, does it?" she asked, stepping away.

"It doesn't," he agreed with a light laugh. "But, I wanted a coffee and you were already there, and I wanted to apologise to you for running into you earlier. I wasn't watching where I was going. So it's good-good now, isn't it?"

"It's win-win," Eleanor replied slowly, although a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Win-win," he repeated. He looked like he wanted to say more, but hesitated, and closed his mouth.

"What? Is something on my face?" she asked worriedly.

"Just your hat," answered Jasper without missing a beat. "So stubborn girl, I missed your name when you were arguing with the staff."

Eleanor rolled her eyes and turned away to eyeball the staff in question cast a wary look at the two of them. She had no intention in giving him her name. Certainly not her real name at that.

"GRANDE EARL GREY FOR MATILDA!"

She froze, hand outstretched to pick it up as he was finishing his sentence.

"VENTI BLACK FOR JASPER!"

Her fingers closed around the warm paper cup and pulled it towards herself.

"Matilda, huh?" his breath was hot against her ear, his voice silky. Had he hit his head on the doorframe? Was he really flirting with her right now? Did he know? The man she know new to be called Jasper reached around her to retrieve his own cup, careful to keep his body close to hers. On purpose, she was sure "I'm sorry for running into you earlier, Matilda. I've just been stressed out at work and suddenly there you were."

"And there I was," she mused.

The pair pushed their way through the crowded coffee shop to fix their respective beverages- or she did, he smirked and simply put a lid on the black sludge he was drinking. Eleanor never had been much of a coffee drinker; she was British. She preferred tea, just like any sensible English woman. Lidding her own drink, she lifted it to her lips and took a tentative sip. "Well, thank you. I'm going to return to my shopping now."

"Wait," he pleaded. She swore she heard a hint of desperation in his voice.

Eleanor paused and bit her lip. This was dangerous.

Then again, if he hadn't figured out who she was by now, he likely was never going to.

She turned back around and arched an eyebrow in his direction, and waited.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth behind her cup. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, I don't usually do this. Ever. But would you like to delay heading back out into that fucking madhouse for at least fifteen minutes and finish my break with me before I have to go back to the office?" Jasper's blue eyes stared intently at her. "I don't know anybody here. I'm new, if you can't already tell," he gestured to his throat with a roll of his eyes, indicating he was well aware of the attention that his articulate American drawl brought about.

This poor bloke was lonely. Or was he being nice? Or a reporter? Stalker?

"Matilda?"

She blinked and shook her head as he repeated her name. "Um," she hesitated, her eyes flickering over to the clock on the far wall. She was supposed to meet James within the next hour, and she was nowhere finished her shopping. She had been sending her purchases to a courier that was used by the Palace for pick up. She was a princess; she didn't carry bags, nor did she want to have her bodyguard trailing about while she looked at lingerie.

Fuck it.

"I'd like that," she smiled, realizing that he was staring at her.

He stuck his hand out between them. "My name is Jasper. Jasper Frost. I've just moved here from America. I'm a security analyst for Harry Winston."

Eleanor eyed his hand for a fraction of a second. Princess' did not shake hands. "Nice to meet you, Jasper Frost," replied Eleanor grasping his warm hand; his long fingers easily wrapped around her own. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles as she began to pull her hand back. Over his shoulder, on the television, was a news broadcast running footage of Robert and Wilhelmina from the previous night when they had lit the Christmas Tree in the palace courtyard with children from a local orphanage. "My name is Matilda … Matilda Roberts. I live in London. I'm an event planner."

"Matilda Roberts the event planner," he repeated slowly as they slid into a small table off to the side of the cafe. It sounded as if he almost didn't believe her, judging from the skeptical look on his face. "That is an unfortunate name."

Eleanor scoffed in surprise as she pulled the hat off of her head, her hand automatically flying up to run her fingers through her hair to even out her flyaway strands. "It may be an unfortunate name, but it was my grandmother's. Besides; Jasp-ah isn't anything to ring home about either. Is your father's called Jack Frost, too?"

"Touche," Jasper reluctantly admitted as he sat down in the seat across from her, taking a moment to put his jacket on the opposite chair. Eleanor mimicked his actions before setting her bag carefully on the floor, against the wooden chair leg. "And no, my father is called Earl."

Scoffing, Eleanor brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up to find him staring at her yet again. "You stare a lot," she accused lightly, reaching for her tea once more.

She could have sworn she saw his cheeks tinge red. Or, it could be the overheated temperature of this bloody Starbucks. Eleanor preferred to think she was having some sort of effect on this handsome stranger. She hadn't wanted to be in any man's company since she ended things with Beck. Hadn't wanted to. Robert wanted her to keep a low profile and she was more than happy to oblige. However, he wanted her to start easing back into her royal duties in the new year; something she was understandably apprehensive of. Planning and attaching her name to the Snow Ball was their compromise.

A public breakup between his sister and best friend was a kind of publicity the King of England hadn't bargained for when when he himself had married in a lavish ceremony earlier in the year. They were all supposed to be happy. Happy, and in love.

She and Beck were naturally expected to be next big royal wedding.

It was unspoken knowledge within the walls of the palace she she was expected to make up for Liam's bastard baby. A burden that she still resented him for.

Robert might have even consented to letting her marry in Westminster Abbey if it meant that he would be able to curry favour with the House of Lords over their union and Twysden Beckwith's subsequent rise from Lord to His Royal Highness.

Maybe after the brat was born she might come around and give Kathryn Davis another chance. Right now, she still wasn't ready.

Keeping a low profile as Matilda Roberts, event planner extraordinaire, was as low of a profile she was willing to get.

If their father could to slip out and live amongst the plebs once in a while, why couldn't she?

"You're paranoid," he dismissed lightly, taking a drink of his coffee before slumping back in his seat, lowering his eyes to her manicured hands on the table.

"So you work for Harry Winston, huh?" It was easier to change the subject. He secured diamonds and she liked them. Maybe if she were lucky, she could sweet talk this Jasper into giving her a private viewing, and she could make her picks for the ball in peace. "Bodyguarding diamonds seems to be a lucrative… niche."

Jasper snorted and looked away for a moment. "Something like that, yeah. I'm not a security guard. I work for corporate."

"Corporate," she repeated, clearly bemused. "I work for my brother."

"Is he a decorator too?" teased Jasper.

"Event planner," Eleanor bristled; she was quick to correct him. Determined to stick to her story. If he was full of shit, he would not make her crack. She would play this game to the death. "No, he's … military. Or was. He had an accident and now he runs a non profit for wounded vets. I work with him there and help out where I can."

He blinked in surprise. Eleanor knew she was a skilled in the art of bullshit, a trait she unfortunately inherited from her mother. At least it wasn't a complete lie. After all, this was just a brief encounter. It wasn't a date. She was being nice. He bought her a drink and his American ignorance didn't clue into who she was yet and so she would play along. For fifteen minutes, she could pretend to be normal. That she was a normal woman who had been nearly trampled by a handsome man in Harrods in the holiday rush. It was a modern fairytale.

"That is-" began Jasper, only to be interrupted by a young man yelping in pain and falling to the floor next to their table.

"-ugh what the hell!" he grumbled as he quickly tried to right himself. Eleanor recoiled in surprise and inched away as much as she could in her seat, her hair falling in front of her face as she turned away in a lame attempt at hiding her face in case someone did end up recognizing her. The last thing she needed was someone fawning about saying how much she looked exactly like Princess Eleanor. "My bloody boot lace came undone and I tripped, i'm sorry," apologized the man. His voice was muffled from the combination of still being half beneath their table as he tied his bootlace and his mouth hidden behind the wool scarf that was wound around his neck.

It was stifling inside. How could he possibly not be overheated?

"Excuse me," he said quickly before either of them could reply, and scrambled to his feet and took off in the other direction in a brisk walk.

"What the hell was that?" said Eleanor incredulously as she righted herself. She narrowed her eyes and looked over Jasper's shoulder.

"Holy shit," Jasper interjected, quickly rising to his feet, his voice raising in alarm. "Matilda, he just stole your purse. It's gone."

"What?!" she panicked. Her phone was in that bag.

She looked down.

Sure enough, it was gone.

When she looked back up, Jasper was gone. Instead, he was pushing his way through the line to go after him, but it was too late.

"Jasper!" she called hoarsely, gathering both of their coats up in her arms in haste. This was bad. Bad. Or was it? "JASPER, STOP!" Louder this time.

A few people turned their heads in alarm at the sound of her shrill voice, including her intended target. "Stop," she repeated when she finally reached his side. "Please."

"He just stole your bag, Matilda. You have to let me call security."

"Just let him go," she said firmly, although there was an edge of panic in her tone. "You can't call security."

He stared at her like she had just lost her mind. Maybe she had.

"Your wallet. Your credit cards-"

"I don't have any credit cards," she interrupted. Her annoyance was growing with each passing second. She needed to get out of here. Preferably, with him.

"Everyone has credit cards," he replied.

"Not me. Debt free," she joked lamely as she shoved his wool coat into his arms.

"You don't want me to call security?" he ignored her statement, and pressed again. He jammed his arms into the sleeves, but didn't bother to zip it back up.

"No I don't," she said firmly, holding his gaze. "There wasn't anything in there that was important, I used most of the cash I had on me, anyway. If he stole it he must need the money, right?"

Jasper stared at her slack jawed. "Or," he tried again, stepping in closer. It was as if he could sense her agitation with the situation. Still confused about why she wouldn't involve security. Any other woman would want their purse and belongings back. "He is a thief who needs to be taught a lesson. You can't just go around stealing beautiful womens' bags like that!"

Eleanor was no other woman.

To this innocent man, she was not a princess. Simply put, a beautiful woman.

Let James go on a wild hound chase after the thieves who stole the Princess' purse. As far as James and the rest of palace security knew, she was with it, and had been kidnapped. James knew her well enough; it wouldn't have been the first time she had taken off like this. It had been months since she had time to herself.

On the inside, Eleanor was smiling.

"Please Jasper," she begged, her hand flying out to grab hold of his wrist and lowered her voice. Her tone took on an edge that she only used when speaking to the help; a sign of her desperation. He must have sensed it. "There really wasn't much in there. My family is rich. I've been putting all of my purchases today on our credit account. That's why I don't have any bags with me, alright? It was just my mobile, and maybe a few hundred quid. Replaceable things."

She was treading dangerous waters now. "You should probably go," sighed Eleanor, releasing him and taking a step backward. She could smell his cologne; a fresh, woodsy scent that reminded her of the Christmas' that she and her siblings had with their father at the Henstridge family's private country estate when they were children. A time when their mother disappeared to spend time with her lover, and they could finally relax and act like real children.

Maybe it really was her time to disappear. She would be back in time for the Snow Ball. No harm, no foul.

"I can't leave you here like this," he gestured to the crowd moving around them; a passing lady bumped his shoulder with a large garment bag forcing him to stumble backwards. "Come back downstairs with me to my office and you can use my phone to call an Uber. Or something."

She was a casually dressed princess in the middle of a popular London department store without a security detail. However, there was a strange man who probably knew how to use a gun or protect her if worse came to worse. James would be proud of her in due time.

There was no way in hell she was going to call an Uber. Not now, or ever.

"Sure," Eleanor gave in, smiling sweetly. There would be no place more safer than a back office at a high-end diamond retailer. There would be no place more sexier, either, she reasoned with herself as she trailed closely behind him towards the double doors that led to the back staircase.

A quicker escape route. More discreet.

This was quite possibly her best idea. Second to that of going to Robbie's new wife to get permission to flood a portion of the garden after her mother said no.

She snorted to herself.

"Everything alright?" Jasper peered over his shoulder as he pushed open the door, and then stood aside for her to pass him.

"Just great," she drawled, brushing her hand along his chest, a small smirk playing across her lips. "I've never taken an Uber before so I'm very interested in calling one."

"Of course you haven't," he rolled his eyes as they began their decent down. "It's an app, Matilda. Honestly…"

His disdain only caused her smirk to widen.

Eleanor looped her arm through his. "You can teach me how to app an Uber. I'm just a poor, lost little rich girl," she teased. "Jasper, I don't even know my driver's number. How pathetic is that? Am I?"

"You're not pathetic," he assured her, patting his hand on hers as they rounded a corner on the metal staircase, by passing another pair. "It's not your fault you were born in the back of a limousine with a nanny to memorize numbers for you."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "Hm. I can't wait to tell my mother she's raised an invalid."

That caused him to laugh. A full bellied laugh escaped him and she snapped her neck to look at him in alarm.

"Sorry," he choked. "I'm not. I don't know why that was so funny."

"If you knew my mother, you'd laugh," said Eleanor. If only he knew who her mother was. Helena might be the beloved, resilient Queen Mother to the outside world. To those on the inside- those who were supposed to be her family, she was cold, calculating, and obsessed with her family's public persona. A public persona that her two youngest children had put on very thin ice as of late.

He offered her a smile, but said nothing more until they were outside on the side of the street.

"Are you sure you want me to come in there? I mean, you just picked me up in a Starbucks," Eleanor asked worriedly.

"It'll be fine," he assured her. "My office is upstairs above the store. It'll be fine, just follow my lead, alright?"

"You're so dramatic," Eleanor whispered harshly. For a brief moment, she had feared he was going to lead her through some sort of check point where he would vouch for her. Instead, only a few heads turned in their direction. One security guard offered them a wave and a curious look which they both ignored. She was too focused on the feeling of his large hand wrapped around hers.

Jasper had pulled a key card from inside of his coat pocket to unlock a door in the far corner of the store, and led her into a small, dark entry way that led to a rickety staircase that only existed in London's oldest buildings. The place was probably haunted by one of her ancestors. Shit, her family probably owned something deep within the basement vaults.

He shook his head and led her towards the second floor where there was indeed, a small office door with his name on a black plate.

"Jasper Frost," she read, purposefully annunciating his name with a taunt.

"Matilda Roberts," Jasper mimicked,. He pushed the tips of his fingers into the small of her back, ushering her into the room. Eleanor cast a look over her shoulder; a small black camera was hanging above the door. She lowered her head. Maybe she should have put the hat back on. Jasper was right. She was paranoid. James likely hadn't realized she took off yet. He didn't have access to every security system in the entire kingdom.

Too late now.

She liked the way her fake name rolled off of his tongue in his smooth American accent. Eleanor imagined that her actual name would sound much, much better. Things that would come in good time, she hoped. She was still a princess, after all; and a resourceful one at that.

"You don't want me to get an Uber do you," he said softly from behind. Eleanor froze in surprise; she hadn't heard him approach. His hand came to a rest on her elbow and she closed her eyes, and breathed in. Leaned back into his embrace.

There was a time before Beck- before Robbie became king- before all of that bad shit happened- that she used to be so carefree. An encounter like this was nothing new; it was a game she knew how to play very well. She knew that she wanted to him from the second she laid eyes on him from inside the car.

The iPad in question was sitting on his desk on the far side of the room.

"I don't, no," she whispered. Eleanor turned in his embrace, and raised her hand to wrap her fingers around the thin, black tie around his neck to pull him in closer. "I must confess, I saw you in the window earlier when you had that frown on your face." His other hand anchored her more firmly against his body as her free one rested on his rough cheek.

His face inched closer to hers; his blue eyes had darkened considerably.

"I saw you get out of that black town car," Jasper revealed. His lips were mere centimeters from hers now.

He began to back her up. Towards the desk.

"I saw you get out and I knew I had to have you," he continued. "I didn't mean to run into you, Matilda. That was an accident, baby."

"An accident?" she murmured. Eleanor lowered her hand from his face to wind around his neck. The desk hit the back of her legs and she slid on top. She pushed his ipad to the side as their mouths finally fused together. His hands moved up her back. Around her neck and then in her hair; forcing her to tilt her head up to give him better access to her neck.

"I'm making it up to you, aren't I?" he said gruffly; his hot breath came in hot, quick pants against her throat.

"That remains to be seen," Eleanor ran her hands down his front; fingers ghosting along the buttons of his white dress shirt before coming to a rest on his belt buckle. Something had come over her. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire; his touch was an accelerant.

Jasper chuckled before he pressed his lips against her throat once more. He was done talking.

Eleanor closed her eyes and allowed her body to go limp in his arms. A voice deep in the back of her head said that she was safe here, with him. There was a spark between them. A spark she never felt with Beck, not once.

"Just for the record, I never do this," he panted as she pulled his belt from his trousers and sent it clattering to the floor.

"Shut up Jasper," she rolled her eyes before reaching for the zipper on her black jeans. "Please."

He smirked. "I like the way you say my name," he said softly.

A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as he stepped between her parted thighs.

She cast a quick look down and then back up to meet his eyes and it only caused his smirk to widen. "We don't have much time. We can talk later."

"Later," he agreed, and pressed his mouth to hers once more.

Later turned into him convincing her to stay hidden up in his office until the end of his shift, shortly after 6PM. She spent a few hours fiddling around with catalogues she found in his office to watching him stroll around the store floors on the cameras from behind the desk he had fucked her on mere hours ago.

Her purse being stolen was an inconvenient blessing. She wanted to have more of him. Not on a desk above a retail store.

Behind his desk was a small sofa and she curled up on it, leaving her boots on the floor. Using his wool coat as a blanket, Eleanor snuggled into it. His scent was everywhere. On the jacket. On her. In her.

No words had been spoken between them after their tryst. It was quick. Too quick. She wanted more. More feeling. More … him. Judging by the look on his face, she knew the feeling was mutual. He had smoothed her hair out and kissed her deeply. Stuffed himself back inside his trousers and helped her back into her jeans before he asked her to wait and not disappear on him again.

Eleanor found herself agreeing.

Every time he cast a look up at a camera, she knew he was looking at her. He knew she was watching. He wanted her to watch.

"Hey sleepy head." A hand on her face. Fingers brushing her hair away. A thumb ran across her bottom lip; Eleanor opened her eyes as she closed her mouth around his finger.

"Hey," she croaked. Jasper pulled his hand away and leaned back against his desk, and folded his arms across his chest. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pass out like this."

Her comment only caused him to smile. "You had a big afternoon," he lamented.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "If that's what you need to tell yourself, sure," she shot back. Stretching, she swung her legs over the side of the couch. He extended his hand to help her back on her feet. She liked the way the way that his hand felt wrapped around hers.

"About that," said Jasper carefully. "I realize we've just met- and fucked on my desk- but they're having holiday drinks downstairs and I really don't want to do this alone. And you're an event planner, right? Can't you plan an event to get us out of this early?"

"I'm just an escape route to you, aren't I?" she joked.

"Not at all," he replied. "You'd be doing me the favour, babe. I'll make it up to you later."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Frost."