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His smile morphs into an impish grin as I slide back into the booth. “Your pie arrived, and I may have taken a bite.” My stomach lurches. Holy shit. I’ve dealt with countless crises in my three years as prime minister. Economic, social, national security. But it appears spending an evening with the future king is what will defeat me. Because I suddenly realize my problem isn’t that I’m attracted to Callum. My problem is I’m charmed by him. And that feels like a much more dangerous proposition.