Free Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1) by Molly Jameson

some prince or other used to employ a person whose sole job was to put toothpaste on his toothbrush. Was that true?"
    "It might have been, but I assure you, I perform all my ablutions without aid from anyone."
    "What's so funny?" she asked when he couldn't suppress a laugh.
    "I've been asked many things about being a member of the royal family, but no one has ever asked me if I apply my own toothpaste."
    "That's me-- always getting to the heart of things. Do you always have to worry about the paparazzi?"
    The paparazzi. He knew they'd have to get around to that. He took several sips of champagne while he weighed his words.
    "You don't have to answer. I'm sorry if I'm being nosey."
    "It isn't that. It's just that I don't want to tell you the truth, but I also don't want to lie to you."
    "If you wanted to lie to me, what would you say?"
    "I'd say that no, I don't worry about the paparazzi constantly. They hardly trouble me at all."
    "Oh."
    He refilled her glass.
    "I think that I worry about them perhaps more than is warranted. Jamie doesn't worry about them at all, and Lizzy--Lizzy actively courts them."
    "But you care more."
    "About the family, no, but about the family's image--yes, I believe it's something like that. Jamie is heir to the throne, and there's a lot of responsibility there. For me, less is required of me," he shrugged, "so I took over the role of managing the family's public image."
    "From what little I've seen, that can't be an easy job."
    "As much as I adore having you think that I'm single-handedly taking on the villainous press and protecting my family with my life, I have to tell you that there's an entire staff of public image consultants, all of whom work more diligently at this than I do."
    "I wish I'd have known that sooner," she said, "because what happened earlier-- that was totally a pity fuck."
    Royals did not snort champagne out their noses. They certainly did not. But it was a very near thing. Edward blotted with his napkin just in case.
    "I have had perhaps three conversations with you, and you've made me laugh more than any single person ever has."
    "Even Jamie? He seems pretty funny."
    "Please don't tell him so. He needs no further encouragement."
    "It's kind of hard to think of him being king someday."
    "Jamie will be the greatest monarch Great Britain has ever known."
    At her look of surprise, he went on.
    "Indeed, he may appear to be irresponsible--and I'm not suggesting he's ready for the position yet--but no one cares about Britain -- its history, its people, its culture -- the way Jamie does. At university, our father --"
    "That would be the king."
    "You're a bit stuck on that, aren't you, love? Yes, our father, the king , wanted Jamie to study international business and geopolitics, but Jamie chose history instead. Father nearly had apoplexy when Jamie postponed his entry into His Majesty's Naval Forces to assist on an archeological dig in the north of England."
    "I'm with Jamie. International business?" She mimed a yawn.
    "So that's me. Anything more you want to know you can find out on the Internet. Now tell me about Carrie MacCallum."
    "I am not nearly as interesting as you, I promise."
    "You're from the American South, that's all I know. Apart from the rather obvious fact that you have amazing legs."
    "If you must know. I am from Kentucky."
    "The one with the derby?"
    "Yes, except we pronounce it correctly. It's DER-by ."
    "I believe one of my ancestors invented thoroughbred racing, but I'll indulge you. Der by then. Now, what else?"
    "I own a knitting shop."
    "Knitting, the bit with yarn and pointy sticks?"
    "Monarchy, that's the bit with trumpets blaring and fancy headgear?"
    He raised his glass in mock salute, "Touché."
    "If you want to boil my livelihood, nay my passion, down to it's most basic components, then, yes, it's yarn and pointy sticks."
    "I always wanted a girlfriend who could knit me a jumper. Can you knit me a jumper?"
    "Hmmm."
    "I don't warrant a jumper?"
    "You're