Sarah Morgan - Princes Waitress Wife Read online

  ‘That’s all rubbish! I had sex with you because—’ She broke off and gave a hysterical laugh. ‘I don’t know why I had sex with you! Frankly the whole episode was pretty shocking.’

  Their eyes collided, and shared memories of that moment passed between them like a shaft of electricity.

  His eyes dropped to her wide, lush mouth and he found himself remembering how she’d tasted and felt. Even though he now realised that she couldn’t possibly have been a virgin, he still wanted her with almost indecent desperation.

  ‘Stop looking at me like that,’ she whispered, and Casper gave a twisted smile, acknowledging the chemistry that held them both fast. Invisible chains, drawing them together like prisoners doomed to the same fate.

  ‘You should be pleased I’m looking at you like that,’ he drawled softly, ‘Because good sex is probably the only thing we have going for us.’

  Even as his mind was withdrawing, his hands wanted to reach out and haul her hard against him. He saw her eyes darken to deep emerald, saw her throat move as she murmured a denial.

  ‘I honestly don’t know what’s going on here,’ she muttered. ‘But I think you’d better leave.’

  Somehow her continuing claim at innocence made the whole episode all the more distasteful, and the face of another woman flashed into his brain—a woman so captivating that he’d been blind to everything except her extraordinary beauty. ‘What sort of heartless bitch would lie about the identity of her baby’s father?’ Ruthlessly he pushed the memories down, his anger trebling. ‘Don’t you have a conscience?’ His words sucked the last of the colour from her cheeks.

  ‘Get out!’ Her voice sounded strange. High pitched. Robotic. ‘I don’t care if you’re a prince, just get out!’ Her legs were shaking and her face was as white as an Arctic snow-field. ‘I was so pleased to see you. That day when you comforted me when I was upset—I thought you were a really nice, decent person. A bit scary, perhaps, but basically nice. When I opened the door and saw you standing there I actually thought you’d come to see if I was OK—can you believe that? And now I feel like a complete fool. Because you weren’t thinking about me. You were thinking about yourself. So just go! Go back to your palace, or your castle, or wherever it is you live.’ The wave of her hand suggested she didn’t care where he lived. ‘And do whatever it is you want to do.’

  ‘You’ve robbed me of that option.’

  ‘Why? Even if the world does think I’m having your baby, so what? Don’t tell me you’re worried about your reputation. You’re the playboy prince.’ There was hurt in her voice, that same voice that only moments earlier had been soft and gentle. ‘Since when has reputation mattered to you? When you have sex with a woman, everyone just smiles and says what a stud you are. I’m sure the fact that you’ve fathered a child will gain you some major testosterone points. Walk away, Your Highness. Isn’t that what you usually do?’

  ‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ His voice was thickened and raw. ‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’

  What exactly had she done?

  Appalled, Holly stared at him.

  The anger in his face was real enough. It was clear that he genuinely believed that he couldn’t be the father of her baby. And her only proof was the fact that she’d been a virgin.

  But he didn’t believe her, did he?

  And could she blame him for that? It was true that she hadn’t behaved like a virgin. The entire encounter had been one long burst of explosive chemistry. It had been the only time in her life that she’d been out of control.

  And that chemistry was back in the room, racking up the tension between them to intolerable levels, the electricity sparking between them like a live cable. His gaze dropped to her lips and she saw in his eyes that his mind was in exactly the same place as hers.

  It was like a chain reaction. His glance, her heartbeat, harsh breathing—her or him?—and tension—tension like she’d never experienced before.

  Streaks of colour accentuated his aristocratic cheekbones and he stepped towards her at exactly the same moment she moved towards him. The attraction was so fierce and frantic that when she heard a ringing sound she actually wondered whether an alarm had gone off.

  Then she realised that it was the phone.

  Hauling his gaze from hers, Casper inhaled sharply. ‘Don’t answer that.’

  Still reeling from the explosion of sexual excitement, Holly doubted she’d be capable of answering it even if she’d wanted to. Her legs were trembling and the rhythm of her breathing was all wrong.

  She watched dizzily as he crossed the room and lifted a bunch of papers from the printer.

  Mouth grim, shoulders tense, he leafed through them and then lifted his gaze to hers. ‘What were you doing? Profiling your target?’

  Having completely forgotten that she’d actually printed out some of the sheets on him, including a particularly flattering picture, Holly suddenly wished she could sink through the floor. ‘I—I was looking you up.’ What else could she say? She could hardly deny it, given that he was holding the evidence of her transgression in his hands.

  ‘Of course you were.’ He gave a derisive smile. ‘I’m sure you wanted to know just how well you’d done. So, now we’ve cleared that up, let’s drop the pretence of innocence, shall we?’

  ‘OK, so I’m human!’ Her face scarlet, her knees trembling, Holly ran damp palms over her tee-shirt, wishing she could go and change into something else. He looked like something out of a glossy magazine, and she was dressed in her most comfortable tee-shirt that dated back at least six years. ‘I admit that I wanted to find out stuff about you. You were my first lover.’

  ‘So you’re sticking to that story.’ He dropped the papers back onto the desk and Holly lifted her chin.

  ‘It’s not a story. It’s the truth.’

  ‘I just hope you don’t regret what you’ve done when you have two hundred camera lenses trained on your face and the world’s press yelling questions at you.’

  She shrank at the thought. ‘That isn’t going to happen.’

  ‘Let me tell you something about the life you’ve chosen, Holly.’ Tall and powerfully built, he looked as out of place in her flat as a thoroughbred racehorse in a donkey derby. From the stylish trousers and long cashmere coat, to the look of cool confidence on his impossibly handsome face, everything about him shrieked of enormous wealth and privilege. ‘Everywhere you go there will be a photographer stalking you, and most of the time you won’t even know they’re there until you see the picture next day. Everyone is going to want a piece of you, and that means you can no longer have friends, because even friends have their price and you’ll never know who you can trust.’

  ‘I don’t need to hear this—’

  ‘Yes, you do. You won’t be able to smile without someone demanding to know why you’re happy and you won’t be able to frown without someone saying that you’re suffering from depression and about to be admitted to a clinic.’ He hammered home the facts with lethal precision. ‘You’ll either be too thin or too fat—’

  ‘Too fat, obviously.’ Heart pounding, Holly sank down onto the sofa. ‘Enough. You can stop now. I get the picture.’

  ‘I’m describing your new life, Holly. The life you’ve chosen.’

  There was a tense, electric silence and she licked her lips nervously. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘You have made sure that the whole world believes that this is my baby. And, as a result, the whole world is now waiting for me to take appropriate action.’

  Pacing back over to the window, he stared down into the street.

  Holly had a sudden sick feeling in her stomach. ‘A—appropriate action? What do you mean?’

  There was a deathly silence and then he turned, his eyes empty of emotion. ‘You’re going to marry me, Holly.’ The savage bite in his tone was a perfect match for the chill in his eyes. ‘And you may think that I’ve just made your wildest dreams come true, but I can assure you that you’re about to e
mbark on your worst nightmare.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘SO WHEN do you think he’ll be back?’ Holly paced across the priceless rug in the Georgian manor house. ‘I mean, he’s been gone for two weeks, Emilio! I haven’t even had a chance to talk to him since that day at the flat.’ The day he’d announced that she was going to marry him. ‘Not that this house isn’t fabulous and luxurious and all that—but he virtually kidnapped me!’

  ‘On the contrary, His Highness was merely concerned for your safety,’ Emilio said gently. ‘The press had discovered where you were and the situation was about to turn extremely ugly. It was imperative that we extracted you from there as fast as possible.’

  Remembering the crowd of reporters that had suddenly converged on Nicky’s flat, and the slick security operation that had ensured their escape, Holly rubbed her fingers over her forehead. ‘Yes, all right, I accept that, but that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t been in touch. When is he planning to come back? We need to talk.’

  There was so much she needed to say to him.

  When she’d opened the door to the flat and seen the prince standing there, her first reaction had been one of pure joy. For a crazy moment she’d actually thought that he was there because he’d spent the past two weeks thinking about her and decided that he needed to see her again. Her mind had raced forward, imagining all sorts of unrealistic scenarios that she was now too embarrassed to even recall. Her crazy, stupid brain had actually started to believe that extraordinary things could happen to someone ordinary like her.

  And then he’d strode into her flat like a Roman conqueror neutralising the enemy.

  Remembering everything he’d said to her, she felt a rush of misery.

  He didn’t believe it was his baby and the injustice of that still stung. True, she wasn’t exactly proud of the way she’d behaved, but it seemed he’d conveniently forgotten his own role in the affair.

  And as for his proposal of marriage—well, that unexpected twist had more than kept her mind occupied over the past two weeks.

  Had he meant it? Was he serious? And, if he was serious, what was her response going to be?

  It was the most difficult decision she’d ever had to make, and the arguments for and against had gone round and round in her head like a fairground carousel. Marrying him meant being with a man who didn’t know her or trust her, but not marrying him meant denying her baby a father.

  And that was the one thing she’d promised herself would never happen to any child of hers.

  Reminding herself of that fact, Holly straightened her shoulders and stared across the beautifully landscaped gardens that surrounded the manor.

  Their baby was not going to grow up thinking that his father had abandoned him. She swallowed down the lump that sprang into her throat. Their baby was not going to be the only child in school not making a Father’s Day card.

  Which meant that her answer had to be yes, regardless of everything else.

  What else mattered? Hopefully over time the prince would realise how wrong he had been about her, and once the baby was born it would be a simple matter to prove paternity. Perhaps, then, their relationship could develop.

  Realising that Emilio was still watching her, she felt a squeeze of guilt. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being really selfish. Is there any news about your little boy? Have you phoned the hospital this morning?’

  Remembering just how taciturn and uncommunicative the prince’s Head of Security had been when they’d first met, she was relieved that he’d responded to her attempts to be friendly.

  ‘His temperature is down,’ he told her. ‘And he’s responding to the antibiotics, although they’re still not sure what it was.’

  ‘Your poor wife must be so tired. And little Tomasso must be missing you. I remember having chicken pox just after—’ Just after her father had left. The feelings of abandonment were as fresh as ever and Holly walked across to him and touched his arm. ‘Go home, Emilio,’ she urged. ‘Your wife would like the support and your little boy would dearly love to see his daddy.’

  ‘That’s out of the question, madam.’

  ‘Why? I’m not going anywhere. I feel really guilty that you’re stuck here with me. If it weren’t for me, you’d be back home in Santallia.’

  Emilio cleared his throat. ‘If I may say so, your company has been a pleasure, madam. And you’ve been a great comfort since Tomasso was ill. I’ll never forget your kindness that first night when he was first taken into hospital and you stayed up and kept me company.’

  ‘I’ve never been thrashed so many times at poker in my life. It’s a good job I don’t have any money to lose,’ Holly said lightly. ‘The moment the prince turns up, you’re going home.’

  But what if he didn’t turn up?

  Perhaps he didn’t want to marry her any more.

  Perhaps he’d changed his mind.

  Or perhaps he’d just imprisoned her here, away from the press, until the story died down? After all, he believed that she’d talked to the press. Was he keeping her here just to ensure her silence?

  Her thoughts in turmoil, Holly spent the rest of the morning on the computer in the wood-panelled study that overlooked the ornamental lake. Resisting the temptation to do another trawl of the Internet for mentions of Prince Casper, she concentrated on what she was doing and then wandered down to the kitchen to eat lunch with the head chef and other members of the prince’s household staff.

  ‘Something smells delicious, Pietro.’ Loving the cosy atmosphere of the kitchen, she warmed her hands on the Aga. Naturally chatty by nature, and delighted to find herself suddenly part of this close community, Holly had lost no time in getting to know everyone living and working in the historic manor house.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to cook for someone who enjoys her food, madam,’ the chef said, smiling warmly as he gestured towards some pastries cooling on a wire rack. ‘Try one and give me your verdict. You’re eating for two, remember.’

  ‘Well, I’d rather not be the size of two. I’m not sure I’m meant to be developing cravings this early, but already I don’t think I can live without your pollo alla limone.’ Holly still felt slightly self-conscious that everyone clearly felt so possessive about her baby. She bit into a pastry and moaned with genuine appreciation. ‘Oh, please—this is sublime. Truly, Pietro. I’ve never tasted anything this good in my life before. What is it?’

  Pietro blossomed. ‘Goat’s cheese, with a secret combination of herbs—’ He broke off as Emilio entered the room and Holly smiled.

  ‘Emilio, thank goodness.’ She took another nibble of pastry. ‘You’re just in time to stop me eating the lot by myself.’

  ‘Miss Phillips.’ The bodyguard’s eyes were misted, and Holly dropped the pastry, alarmed to see this controlled man so close to the edge.

  ‘What? What? Has something happened? Did the hospital ring?’

  ‘How can I ever thank you? You are—’ Emilio’s voice was gruff and he cleared his throat. ‘A very special person. My wife called—she just received a delivery of beautiful toys. How you managed to arrange that so quickly I have no idea. Tomasso is thrilled.’

  ‘He liked his parcel?’ Relieved that nothing awful had happened, Holly retrieved the pastry and threw Pietro an apologetic glance. ‘Sorry. Slight overreaction there on my part. Just in case you can’t tell, I briefly considered drama as a career. So he liked the toys? I couldn’t decide between the fire engine and the police car.’

  ‘So you bought both.’ Emilio shook his head. ‘It was unbelievably generous of you, madam.’

  ‘It was the least I could do given I’m the reason you’re not with him.’ Holly frowned and glanced towards the window. ‘What’s that noise? Are we being invaded?’

  Still clutching the spoon, Pietro peered over her shoulder. ‘It’s a helicopter, madam.’ His cheerful smile faded and he straightened his chef’s whites and looked nervously at Emilio. ‘His Royal Highness has returned.’

  Chilled by the wind, an
d battling with a simmering frustration that two weeks of self-imposed absence hadn’t cured, Casper sprang from the helicopter and strode towards the house.

  Although he’d managed to put several countries and a stretch of water between them, he’d failed to wipe Holly from his thoughts. Even the combined demands of complex state business and the successful conclusion to negotiations guaranteeing billions of dollars of foreign investment hadn’t succeeded in pressing the stop button on the non-stop erotic fantasy that had dominated his mind since that day at the rugby.

  Even while part of him was angry with her for her ruthless manipulation, another part of his mind was thinking about her incredible legs. He knew she was a liar, but what really stayed in his head was her enticing smile and the taste of her mouth.

  And that was fine. Because her manipulation had given him a solution to his problem.

  As he approached the house, two uniformed soldiers that he didn’t recognise opened the doors for him, backs ramrod straight, eyes forward.

  Casper stopped. ‘Where is Emilio?’

  One of them cleared his throat. ‘I believe he is in the kitchen, Your Highness.’

  ‘The kitchen?’ Casper approached a nervous footman. ‘Since when did my kitchen represent a major security risk?’

  ‘I believe he is with Miss Phillips and the rest of the staff, sir.’

  Having personally delivered the order that Emilio should watch her, Casper relaxed a fraction. Contemplating the difficult two weeks Holly must have had with his battle-hardened security chief, he almost smiled. Emilio had been known to drive soldiers to tears, but he felt no sympathy for her. After all, she was the one who had decided to name him as the father of her unborn baby. She deserved everything she had coming to her.

  Striding towards the kitchen with that thought uppermost in his mind, he pushed open the door, astonished to hear the rare sound of Emilio’s laughter, and even more surprised to see his usually reserved Head of Security straighten a clasp in Holly’s vibrant curls in an unmistakeably affectionate manner.