Sarah Morgan - Princes Waitress Wife Page 7

  Holly was smiling gratefully and Casper felt like an interloper, intruding on a private moment. Experiencing a wild surge of quite inexplicable anger, he stood in the doorway.

  The rest of the staff were eating and chatting, and Emilio was the first to notice him. ‘Your Highness.’ Evidently shocked at seeing the prince in the kitchen, he stiffened respectfully. ‘I was just about to come upstairs and meet you.’

  ‘But you had other things to distract you,’ Casper observed tightly, strolling into the kitchen and taking in the empty plates and the smell of baking in a single, sweeping glance.

  Without waiting for him to issue the order, the various members of his household staff rose to their feet and hastily left the room.

  Pietro hesitated and then he, too, melted away without being asked.

  Only Emilio didn’t move.

  Casper slowly undid the buttons on his long coat. ‘I’m sure you have many demands on your time, Emilio,’ he said softly, but the bodyguard stood still.

  ‘My priority is protecting Miss Phillips, sir.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Casper removed his coat and dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. ‘But not,’ he said gently, ‘From me.’

  Emilio hesitated and glanced at Holly. ‘You have the alarm I gave you, madam, should you need me for anything.’

  There was no missing the affection in Holly’s smile. ‘I’ll be fine, Emilio, but thank you.’

  Watching this interchange with speechless incredulity, Casper was engulfed by a wave of anger so violent that it shook him.

  Against his will he was transported back eight years, and suddenly he was seeing another woman smiling at another man.

  Pain cut through the red mist of his anger, and he glanced down at his hand and realised that he was gripping the back of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white.

  ‘Your Highness?’ Holly’s voice penetrated his brain. ‘Are you all right?’

  Locking down his thoughts with ruthless focus, Casper transferred his gaze to Holly, but the bitter taste of betrayal remained. ‘Emilio is a married man. Do you have no sense of decency?’

  ‘I—I’m sorry?’

  ‘I’ve no doubt his wife and child will be sorry, too.’

  Her expression changed from concern to anger. ‘How dare you? How dare you turn everything beautiful into something sordid. Emilio and I are friends—nothing more.’ She lifted a hand to her head. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe you’d even think—what is the matter with you? It’s almost as if you believe the worst of people so that you can’t be disappointed.’

  Was that what he did? Stunned by that accusation, Casper felt as cold as marble. ‘Despite a short acquaintance, Emilio would clearly die for you.’

  ‘We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for two weeks—what did you expect? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, maybe you don’t know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do that, but you know Emilio. He was telling me that he’s been with you for twenty years! How could you think that of someone so close to you?’

  Because he knew only too well that it was the people closest to you who were capable of the greatest betrayal. And causing the greatest pain.

  Casper released his grip on the chair and flexed his bloodless fingers.

  ‘Whatever the nature of your relationship, Emilio is in charge of my security. He can’t perform his duties effectively if he’s flirting in the kitchen.’

  ‘Nor can he perform his duties on an empty stomach. We were eating lunch, not flirting. Or aren’t your staff allowed to eat lunch?’

  ‘You’re not a member of my staff.’ Casper glanced round the homely kitchen. ‘And there is a formal dining-room upstairs for your use.’

  ‘It’s as big as a barn, and I don’t want to eat on my own. Where’s the fun in that?’ Her expression made it clear that she thought it should have been obvious that eating alone was a stupid idea. ‘Sorry, but sitting alone at one end of a vast table is a bit sad. I prefer the company of real people, not paintings.’

  ‘So you’ve been distracting Emilio.’

  ‘Actually, yes. I’ve been trying to take his mind off his worries.’ Her shoulders stiffened defensively. ‘Did you know that his little boy has been taken into hospital? And he’s been stuck here with me, fretting himself to death while—’

  The anger drained from Casper. ‘His son is ill?’

  ‘Yes, and he—’

  ‘What is wrong with the child?’

  ‘Well, it started with a very high temperature. I don’t think his wife was too worried at that point, so she gave him the usual stuff but nothing seemed to bring his temperature down. Then she was putting him to bed when—’

  ‘What is wrong with the child?’ Impatient for the facts, Casper sliced through her chatter, and she gave him a hurt look.

  ‘I’m trying to tell you! You’re the one who keeps interrupting.’

  Attempting to control his temper, Casper inhaled deeply. ‘Summarise.’

  ‘I was summarising.’ Affronted, she glared at him. ‘So, his temperature went up and up and then he had a fit, which apparently can be normal for a toddler because they’re hopeless at controlling their temperature, and so they took him in and did some tests and—’

  ‘That isn’t a summary, it’s a three-act play!’ Exasperated, Casper strode across to her and placed a finger over her mouth. ‘Stop talking for one minute and answer my question in no more than three words—what is wrong with Emilio’s son?’

  Her lips were soft against his finger and he felt the warmth of her breath as she parted her lips to respond.

  ‘Virus,’ she muttered, and Casper withdrew his hand as if he’d been scalded, taken aback by the rush of sexual heat that engulfed him. The urge to take possession of her luscious mouth was so strong that he took a step backwards.

  ‘And is his condition improving?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘That’s all I need to know.’ Needing space, Casper turned and strode purposefully towards the door, but she hurtled after him and caught his arm.

  ‘No! No, it isn’t all you need to know! “Virus” and “improving” doesn’t give you a clue about what it’s been like for poor Emilio! Those are just facts, but it’s the feelings that matter.’ She waved an arm. ‘He was stuck here with me while they were doing all these tests, and he was worried sick and—’ She broke off, clearly unsettled by his silence. ‘Don’t you care? You’re so cold! Y-you just stand there looking at me, not saying anything. What do you think it’s been like for Emilio being stuck here with me while his little boy is ill?’

  Casper scanned her flushed cheeks and lifted an eyebrow in sardonic mockery. ‘Noisy?’

  Her hand fell from his arm. ‘I’m only talking too much because you make me nervous.’

  Only both of them knew that there was more than nerves shimmering between them.

  It was there in her eyes—awareness, excitement, longing.

  Distancing himself, Casper yanked open the door. ‘Then I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself.’ He left the room, issued a set of instructions to a waiting security-guard, and then returned to the kitchen to find Holly pacing the room in agitation.

  She threw him a reproachful look. ‘All right, maybe I do talk a lot, but that’s just the way I am, and nobody’s perfect. And you’re the one who left me here without even telling me when you’d be back!’ Her chin lifted. ‘Did you think I’d sit in silence for two weeks?’

  Casper strode over to the large table and poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table. ‘It was fairly obvious to me from our last meeting that you and silence have never been intimately acquainted.’

  ‘Well, I don’t expect you to understand, because you’re obviously the strong silent type who uses words like each one costs a fortune, but I like people. I like talking to them.’

  And they liked talking to her, if the buzz of conversation around the kitchen table had been anythi
ng to go by.

  And she knew about Emilio’s son.

  Casper tried to remember a time when people had been that open with him, and realised that they never had been.

  Even before tragedy had befallen the royal family of Santallia, he’d lived a life of privileged isolation. Because of his position, people were rarely open and honest.

  And he’d learned the hard way that trust was one gift he couldn’t afford to bestow.

  Because of his error of judgement, his country had suffered.

  And now he had the chance to make amends. To give the people what they wanted.

  And as for the rest of it—physically the chemistry between them was explosive, and that was all he required.

  He drank deeply and then put the glass down, his eyes locking with hers.

  Immediately engulfed by a dangerous tension, Casper tried to analyse what it was about her that he found so irresistibly sexy.

  Not her dress sense, that was for sure. Her ancient jeans had a rip in the knees, her pale-pink jumper was obviously an old favourite, and the colour in her cheeks had more to do with the heat coming from the Aga than artful use of make-up.

  Accustomed to women who groomed themselves to within an inch of their lives, he found her lack of artifice oddly refreshing.

  Her beauty wasn’t the result of expensive cosmetics or the hand of a skilled surgeon. Holly was vibrant, passionate and desperately sexy, and all he wanted to do was flatten her to the table and re-enact every sizzling moment of their first meeting.

  Exasperated and baffled by the strength of that inappropriate urge, Casper dragged his eyes back to her face. ‘Emilio failed to pass on the message that you were to buy a new wardrobe.’

  ‘No. He told me.’ She hooked her thumbs into the waist-band of her jeans and the movement revealed a tantalising glimpse of smooth, flat stomach. ‘I just didn’t need anything. What do I need a new wardrobe for? I’ve spent the mornings helping Ivy and the afternoons helping Jim prune the trees in the orchard.’

  ‘Who is Ivy?’

  ‘Your housekeeper. She lost her husband eight months ago and she’s been very down, but she has started joining us for lunch, and she’s been talking about—Sorry.’ She raised a hand in wary apology. ‘I forgot you just want facts. OK, facts. I can do that. Ivy. Housekeeper. Depressed. Improving.’ She ticked them off her fingers. ‘How’s that? You’re smiling, so I must have done OK.’

  Surprised to discover that he was indeed smiling, Casper shook his head slowly. ‘Your gift for conversation has clearly given you a great deal of information about my staff.’

  ‘It’s important to understand people you work with.’

  ‘When I left you here, my intention was not for you to work alongside the staff.’

  ‘I had to do something with my day. You gave orders that I couldn’t leave the premises. I was trapped here.’

  ‘You were brought here for your own safety.’

  ‘Was I?’ Her brilliant green eyes glowed bright with scepticism. ‘Or was I brought here for your safety, so that I couldn’t talk to the press?’

  ‘That particular boat has already sailed,’ Casper said tightly, his temper flaring at her untimely reminder of just how effectively she’d manipulated the media. ‘You’re here for your protection.’

  ‘Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?’ Holly glanced pointedly at the rip in her jeans. ‘I mean, one minute I’m a waitress who no one notices unless they want to complain about their food, and the next I’m someone who needs twenty-four-hour protection.’

  ‘You’re carrying the heir to the throne.’

  ‘And that’s all that matters?’ She tilted her head to one side, studying his expression. ‘You’ll put aside your personal feelings for me because of the baby?’

  What personal feelings?

  Emotion had no place in his life.

  On one previous occasion he’d allowed himself to be ruled by emotion and the consequences had been devastating.

  As far as he was concerned, his relationship with Holly was a business transaction, nothing more.

  Casper stared into her anxious green eyes, wondering why she didn’t look more triumphant.

  She’d successfully secured a future for herself and her child.

  Or was she suddenly realising just how high a price she’d paid for that particular social leap?

  ‘I don’t want to discuss this again.’ Crushing any future urge on her part to dwell on the unfortunate circumstances of their wedding, Casper strolled forward, realising that he hadn’t yet revealed the reason for his return.

  ‘Y—you’re a bit crabby. Perhaps you need to eat,’ she said helpfully, scooping up a plate from the table. ‘Try one of Pietro’s pastries. It’s a new recipe and they’re really delicious.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ His intention had just been to deliver his orders and then spend the afternoon catching up on official papers. He hadn’t expected to be drawn into a discussion.

  Nor had he expected an ongoing battle with his libido.

  ‘Just taste them.’ Apparently unaware of his reluctance, she broke off a piece of the pastry and lifted it to his lips. ‘They’re fresh out of the oven. Try.’

  Drowning in her subtle floral scent and her smile, Casper’s senses reeled and he grasped for control. ‘I have things to tell you.’

  ‘Eat first.’

  Casper ate the pastry and wished he hadn’t, because as his lips touched her fingers again he was immediately plunged into an erotic, sensual world that featured Holly as the leading lady in a scene dominated by scented oils and silk sheets.

  She withdrew her hand slowly, her eyes darkening as they both silently acknowledged the dangerous sexual charge that suffused every communication they shared.

  ‘What is it you need to tell me, Your Highness?’

  ‘Casper.’

  For the space of a heartbeat, she looked at him and then she gave a twisted smile. ‘I don’t think so. I’m not comfortable enough with you. Maybe it’s just because you’ve had a long journey, but you’re very cold. Intimidating. I feel as though you’re going to say “off with her head” any minute.’

  ‘You can’t call me Your Highness in the wedding ceremony.’

  Shock flared in her eyes. ‘I sort of assumed the wedding was off. You haven’t once phoned me whilst you’ve been away.’

  Casper thought of the number of times he’d reached for the phone before he’d realised what he was doing. ‘I had nothing to say.’

  Holly lifted her hands and made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and laughter. ‘Well, if you had nothing to say to me in two weeks, it doesn’t bode well for a lifetime together, does it? But I do have things I want to say to you.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Starting with your offer of marriage. I’ve given it a lot of thought.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. I expect it’s been two weeks of non-stop self-congratulation while you enjoy your new life and reflect on the future.’ His cynical observation was met with appalled silence and she stared at him for a moment, her delicate features suddenly pinched and white.

  Then the plate slipped from her hands and smashed on the kitchen floor, scattering china and pastry everywhere.

  ‘How dare you say that? You have a real gift for saying really horrible things.’ Her small hands curled into fists by her sides. ‘Have you any idea how hard all of this is for me? Well, let me tell you what my life has been like since you walked into it!

  ‘First there is that huge picture of me on the screen so the whole world can see the size of my bottom, then the press crawl all over my life, exposing things about me that I haven’t even told my closest friends and making me out to be some psycho nutcase. Then I discover I’m pregnant, and I was really happy about that until you showed up and told me that you didn’t believe it was yours. So basically since I’ve met you I’ve been portrayed publicly as a fat, abandoned slut with no morals! How’s my new life sounding so far, Your Highness? Not good—so don’
t talk to me about how I must be congratulating myself because, believe me, my confidence is at an all-time low.’ Her breathing rapid, she sucked in several breaths and Casper, who detested emotional scenes, erected barriers faster than a bank being robbed.

  ‘I warned you that—’

  ‘I haven’t finished!’ She glared at him. ‘You think this is an easy decision for me, but it isn’t! This is our baby’s future we’re talking about! And, whatever you may think, I didn’t plan this. Which is why I’ve done nothing but agonise over what to do for the past two weeks. Obviously I don’t want to be married to a man who can’t stand the sight of me, but neither do I want my baby to be without a father. It’s been a horrible, horrible choice, and frankly I wouldn’t wish it on anyone! And if you need that summarised in two words I’d pick “scary” and “sacrifice”.’

  In the process of formulating an exit strategy, Casper looked at her with raw incredulity. ‘Sacrifice?’

  ‘Yes. Because, although I’m sure having a father is right for our baby, I’m not sure that being married to you is right for me. And there’s no need to use that tone. I don’t care about the prince bit, nor do I care about your castle or your bank account.’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘But I won’t have our child growing up thinking that his father abandoned him. And that’s why I’ll marry you. By the time he’s old enough to understand what is going on, you will have realised how wrong you are about me and given me a big, fat apology. But don’t think this is easy for me. I have no wish to marry a man who can’t talk about his feelings and doesn’t show affection.’

  Casper responded to this last declaration with genuine astonishment. ‘Affection?’ How could she possibly think he’d feel affection for a woman who had good as slapped him with a paternity suit?

  She rolled her eyes. ‘You see? Even the word makes you nervous, and that says everything, doesn’t it? You were quite happy to have hot sex with me, but anything else is completely alien to you.’ She covered her face with her hands, and her voice choked. ‘Oh, what am I doing? How can we even think about getting married when there’s nothing between us?’