More than She Bargained For: The Prince's Waitress Wife / Powerful Greek, Unworldly Wife. Sarah Morgan

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More than She Bargained For: The Prince's Waitress Wife / Powerful Greek, Unworldly Wife - Sarah Morgan


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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, and 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.

      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.


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