Royals: Chosen By The Prince: The Prince's Waitress Wife / Becoming the Prince's Wife / To Dance with a Prince

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 anything 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 waistband 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?’

‘We share a very powerful sexual chemistry, or we wouldn’t bein this position right now,’ Casper responded instantly, and her hands dropped and she gave a disbelieving laugh.

‘Well, that’s romantic. There’s no mistaking your priorities. Summarised in three words, it would be sex, sex, sex.’

‘Don’t underestimate the importance of sex,’ Casper breathed, watching as her lips parted slightly. ‘If we’re going to be sharing a bed night after night, it helps that I find you attractive.’ Surprisingly, his statement appeared to finally silence her.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. Then she rubbed her hands over her jeans in a self-conscious gesture. ‘You find me—attractive? Really?’

‘Obviously your dress sense needs considerable work,’ he said silkily. ‘And generally speaking I’m not wild about jeans, although I have to confess that you manage to look good in them. Apart from that, and as long as you don’t ever wear anything featuring a cartoon once you’re officially sleeping in my bed, yes, I’ll find you attractive.’

A laugh burst from her throat. ‘I can’t believe you’re telling me how to dress—or that I’m listening.’

‘I’m not telling you how to dress. I’m telling you how to keep me interested. It’s up to you whether you follow the advice or not.’

‘And that’s supposed to be enough? A marriage based on sex?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘It doesn’t make sense. I still don’t understand why, if you genuinely don’t believe this is your baby, you’d be willing to marry me. Instead of facts, why don’t you give me feelings?’

He didn’t have feelings.

He hadn’t allowed himself feelings for eight years.

‘Given all the research you did on the royal house of Santallia, I would think you’d be aware of the reasons. I’m the last of the line. I’m expected to produce an heir. To the outside world, it appears that I’ve done that.’

‘You’re giving me facts again,’ she said softly. ‘How do you feel, Your Highness?’

Ignoring her question, Casper paced over to the window, his tension levels soaring. ‘The people of Santallia are currently in a state of celebration. The moment the story broke on the news, they were making plans for the royal wedding. There will be fireworks and state banquets. Apparently my popularity rating has soared. School children have already been queuing outside the palace with home-made cards and teddies for the baby—little girls with stars in their eyes.’ He turned, looking for signs of remorse. ‘Are you feeling guilty yet, Holly? Is your conscience pricking you?’

‘Teddies?’ Instead of retreating in the face of his harsh words, she appeared visibly moved by the picture he’d painted. Her hand slid to her stomach in an instinctively protective gesture, and he saw tears of emotion glisten in her eyes. ‘They’re that pleased? It is wonderful that everyone is longing for you to get married and have a baby. You must be very touched that they care so much.’

‘It’s because they care so much that we’re standing here now.’

Her gaze held his. ‘So, if they wanted you to have a baby so badly, and you’re so keen to please them, why haven’t you done it before? Why haven’t you married and given them an heir?’ She broke off abruptly and he knew from the guilty flush on her cheeks that her research had included details about his past relationships.

He could almost see her mind working, thinking that she knew what was going on in his.

Fortunately, she didn’t have a clue.

No one did. He’d made sure of that.

The truth was safely buried where it could do no harm. And it was going to stay buried.

Observing his lack of response, she sighed. ‘What’s going on in your head? I don’t understand you!’

‘I don’t require you to understand me,’ Casper said in a cool tone. ‘I just require you to play the part you auditioned for. From now on, you’ll just do as you’re told. You’ll smile when I tell you to smile and you’ll walk where I tell you to walk. In return, you’ll have more money than you know how to spend, and a lifestyle that most of the world will envy.’

She opened her mouth and closed it again, her face a mask of indecision. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ She stooped and started picking up pieces of broken china, as if she needed to do something with her hands. ‘I thought I’d made up my mind, but now I’m not sure. How can I accept your proposal when you scare me? You use three words, I use thirty. I’ve never met anyone so emotionally detached. I—I’m just not comfortable with you.’ She put the china carefully on the table.

‘Comfortable?’

She rubbed her fingers over her forehead, as if her brain was aching and she wanted to soothe it. ‘We’ll hardly be great parents if I’m bracing myself for conflict every time you enter a room. And then there’s the fact that I don’t exactly fit the profile of perfect princess.’

‘The only thing that matters is that the world thinks you’re carrying my child. As far as the people of Santallia are concerned, that makes you the perfect princess.’

‘But not your perfect princess. You don’t seem to care who you marry. Did you love her very much?’ She blurted out the question as though she couldn’t stop herself, and then gave an apologetic sigh. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t. But you lost your fiancée, Antonia, and it’s stupid to pretend that I don’t know about it, because everyone knew—’

No one knew.

‘Enough!’ Stunned that she would dare tread on such dangerous territory, Casper sent her a warning glance, and in that single unsettling moment he had the feeling that she was looking deep inside him.

‘I am sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘Because I certainly don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see how we’re going to have any sort of marriage when you won’t let another human being get close. You create this barrier around you. Frankly, how I ever felt relaxed enough with you to have sex, I have no idea. At the moment my insides feel as though I swallowed a knotted rope.’ But even as she said the words the tension in the air crackled and snapped, and he saw her chest rise and fall as her breathing quickened.

The sexual chemistry was more powerful than both of them, and Casper wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until his hands slid into her hair and he felt her lips parting in response to the explicit demands of his mouth.

Enforced abstinence and sexual denial had simply increased the feverish craving, and he hauled her hard against him, driven by a sensual urgency previously unknown to him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and the scent and taste of her closed over him, drowning his senses until every rational thought was blown from his brain by a powerful rush of erotic pleasure.

She moaned with desperation, her arms winding round his neck, her body trembling against his as she arched in sensual invitation, her abandoned response a blatant invitation to further intimacy.

In the grip of an almost agonising arousal, Casper closed possessive hands over her hips and lifted her onto the kitchen table. She was pliant and shivering against him, the sensuous movements of her body shamelessly urging him on.

And then the gentle hiss of water boiling on the Aga penetrated the red fog in his mind and he froze, his seeking hands suddenly still as he realised what he was doing.

And where he was doing it.

Another time, another table.

Deploring the lack of control that gripped him whenever he was with this woman, he dragged his mouth from hers with a huge effort of will, and stared down into her dazed, shocked eyes. Her mouth was damp and swollen from his kiss, and she was shaking with the same wild excitement that was driving him.

His usual self-restraint severely challenged by her addictive sexuality, Casper released his grip on her hips and stepped backwards.

‘Hopefully that should have satisfied any worries you might have about whether or not you’ll be able to relax with me when the time comes.’

She slid off the table, her fingers fastened tightly round the edge for support. ‘Your Highness.’ Her voice was smoky with passion. ‘Casper—’

‘We’re short on time.’ Ruthlessly withdrawing from the softness he saw in her eyes, he glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve flown in a team of people to help you prepare.’

‘Prepare for what?’ Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and it was obvious that she wasn’t really listening to what he was saying—that her body was still struggling with the electricity that sparked between them.

‘The wedding. We fly to Santallia tonight. We’re getting married tomorrow.’ He paused, allowing time for his words to sink in. ‘And that’s not a proposal, Holly. It’s an order.’

CHAPTER FIVE

THE roar of the crowd reached deafening proportions, and the long avenue leading from the cathedral to the palace was a sea of smiling faces and waving flags.

‘I can’t believe the number of people,’ Holly said faintly as she settled herself in the golden carriage. The rings on the third finger of her left hand felt heavy and unfamiliar, and she glanced down in disbelief. ‘And I can’t believe we’re married. You certainly don’t hang around, do you? You could have given me a little more warning.’

‘Why?’

Why? Only Casper could ask that question, she thought wryly. Fiddling nervously with the enormous diamond ring, she wondered whether there was something wrong with her. Here she was, living a life straight out of the pages of a child’s fairy tale, and she would have swapped the lot for some kind words from the man next to her.

Her life was moving ahead too fast for comfort.

Having spent the previous afternoon with a top dress designer who had apparently cleared her schedule to accommodate the prince’s request to dress his bride, she’d been transferred by helicopter to the royal flight and then arrived in the Mediterranean principality of Santallia as the sun was setting.

‘I loved The Dowager Cottage, by the way.’

‘It was built for my great-great grandmother so that she could escape occasionally from the formality of life in the palace. I’m pleased you were comfortable.’

Physically, yes, but mentally…

Unable to sleep, Holly had spent most of the night sitting on the balcony that looked over the sea, thinking about what was to come.

Thinking about Casper.

Hoping she was doing the right thing.

Exhausted from thinking and worrying, she’d eventually sprawled on the bed, only to be woken by an army of dress designers, hairdressers and make-up artists prepared to turn her from gauche waitress into princess. And then she’d been driven through this same cheering crowd to the cathedral that dominated the main square of Santallia Town.

She remembered very little of the actual service—very little except the memory of Casper standing powerful and confident by her side as they exchanged vows. And at that moment she’d been filled with a conviction that she was doing the right thing.

She was giving her baby a father. A stability that she’d never had. Roots and a family.

How could that be a mistake?

As the carriage began to move forward down the tree-lined avenue, she glanced at the prince, only to find him studying her intently.

Startlingly handsome in his military uniform, Casper lifted her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that was greeted with cheers of approval from the crowd. ‘The dress is a great improvement on ripped jeans,’ he drawled, and she glanced down at herself, fingering the embroidered silk with reverential fingers.

‘It’s impressive what a top designer can do when required, although I was terrified of tripping over on those steps.’ She couldn’t take her eyes from the cheering crowd. Everywhere she looked there were smiling faces and waving flags. ‘They really love you.’

‘They’re here to see you, not me,’ he said dryly, but she remembered what she’d read about him on the Internet—about his devotion to his country—and knew it wasn’t true.

Although he’d never expected to rule, Prince Casper had stepped into the role, burying his own personal grief in order to bring stability to a country in turmoil.

And they loved him for it.

‘Do you ever wish you weren’t the prince?’ The question left her lips before she could stop it and he gave a faint smile.

‘You have a real gift for voicing questions that other people keep as thoughts.’ He relaxed in the seat, undaunted by the crowds of well-wishers. ‘And the answer is no, I don’t wish it. I love my country.’