His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 239

Chapter 239

Chapter 239

ELENA

The office smelled like laminate flooring and cheap ambition.

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“This one just came available last week,” the realtor said brightly her heels clicking across the polished concrete as she waved toward the wall of glass–fronted cubicles. “Lots of natural light, open floor plan, pre–installed cable and ethernet–plus, we’ve got a breakroom that could easily be converted into a kitchenette with just a little vision.”

I nodded politely, trying to stay engaged. Behind her, Aiden spun slowly in a dusty office chair someone had left behind, his feet barely brushing the floor. He tilted his head back as he turned, staring at the ceiling tiles like they might offer salvation.

“Can we go yet?” he groaned.

“Soon,” I said, forcing a smile.

He groaned again, more dramatically this time, and let his arms fall limp as the chair rotated a half–circle and wobbled to a stop.

This was the fourth office space we’d toured today. All of them were the same. Bland beige walls. Slightly stained carpet. Windows facing parking lots or alleyways. Every tour started the same way–enthusiasm, potential, opportunity—and ended with me nodding politely and feeling… nothing.)

I looked at my watch again. Jacob Stormvale was supposed to meet us nearly an hour ago.

Maybe I shouldn’t have expected much. He was charming, yes, and interested, or so he claimed–but playboys were notoriously unreliable. The kind of wolf who loved the idea of philanthropy as long as it earned headlines or got him laid. The minute real work showed up, so did their excuses.

I exhaled slowly, glancing again at the door. Maybe he wasn’t coming.

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“Now this,” the realtor said, pausing dramatically in front of a closet–sized room with glass doors, “could be a great private office. For the director or founder, of course.”

Aiden spun by again behind her like a slow–moving tornado of attitude.

Just then, the door opened with a cheerful chime.

Jacob Stormvale strolled in like a magazine spread come to life. Navy–blue suit, no tie, top button casually undone. Expensive sunglasses perched on his head. In one hand, he carried a tray of coffees from a place I recognized–the kind of trendy little café that put flower petals on lattes. In the other hand, two roses: one red, one yellow.

“Ladies,” he said, flashing that maddeningly perfect smile. “I am so sorry to be late. Please accept these as the smallest of apologies for my truly shameful timing.”

He handed a cup to the realtor, who blinked in delighted confusion “Tall nonfat vanilla latte, two extra pumps?” he said with a wink.

The woman practically preened. “Oh my gosh. That’s exactly right!”

Then he turned to me, more gently. “And a lavender oat milk latte, one pump honey, extra hot.”

I stared at him, taking the cup more slowly. “How did you know how I take my coffee?”

“I called the Moonstone Packhouse,” he said. “Asked to speak to the chef. I hope that wasn’t overstepping.”

I blinked. “No, just… unexpected.”

“And for you both,” he added, offering the roses. The red one to the realtor. The yellow to me.

“To you,” he said to the realtor, “my deepest apologies for making you wait. You’ll have my undivided attention going forward.”

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Chapter 239

The woman was now one breath away from melting into the carpet

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