The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child: The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child. Raye Morgan
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she said in a cool voice.
“Hello to you, Your Highness. How are you?” Ryder asked.
“I’m actually getting ready to make an appearance for a children’s art program in Dallas,” she said, smiling at the people who were waiting for her.
“Okay, I’ll make this quick. Are you free tonight?”
She rolled her eyes. The man clearly had no idea how many demands were placed on her once people got word she was in the area. “I’m not often free but can sometimes make adjustments. What did you have in mind?”
“Swimming,” he said.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Swimming with the twins and pizza,” he said.
“The pizza had better be fabulous. Ciao,” she said and disconnected the call, but she felt a crazy surge of happiness zing through her as she followed the museum representatives inside the room where the children and press awaited.
Bridget gave a brief speech about the importance of art at all levels of society and dipped her hands and feet in purple paint. She stepped on a white sheet of paper, then pressed her handprints above and finished with her autograph.
The crowd applauded and she was technically done, but she stayed longer to talk to the children as they painted and worked on various projects. Their warmth and responsiveness made her feel less jaded, somehow less weary. Who would have thought it possible?
After extensive rearrangements of her schedule, Bridget put on her swimsuit and had second thoughts. What had possessed her to agree to join Ryder for a swim class when she was in a nearly naked state? She didn’t have a perfectly slim body. In fact, if honest, she was curvy with pouches. Her bum was definitely larger than her top.
Her stomach clenched. Oh, bloody hell, she might as well be thirteen years old again. Forget it, she told herself. It wasn’t as if anything could happen. She and Ryder would have two six-month-old chaperones.
Within forty-five minutes, she and Ryder stood in a pool with Tyler and Travis. Tyler stuck to her like glue, his eyes wide and fearful. “It’s okay,” she coaxed, bobbing gently in the water.
Ryder held Travis, who was screaming bloody murder.
“Are we having fun yet?” he asked, holding his godson securely.
“Should we sing?” she asked, trying not to be distracted by Ryder’s broad shoulders and well-muscled arms and chest. For bloody’s sake, when did the man have time to work out?
“They would throw us out,” he said. “You look good in water.”
She felt a rush of pleasure. “Thank you. Is Travis turning purple?”
“I think it’s called rage,” he said.
“Would you like to switch off for a moment?”
“Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.
She nodded. “Let me give him a go,” she said.
Tyler protested briefly at the exchange, then attached himself to Ryder. Travis continued to scream, so she lowered her mouth to his ear and began to quietly sing a lullaby from her childhood. Travis cried, but the sound grew less intense. She kept singing and he made sad little yelps, then finally quieted.
“Aren’t you the magic one?” Ryder said.
“Luck,” she said and cooed at the baby, swirling him around in the water. “Doesn’t this feel good?” she murmured.
By the end of class, they’d switched off again and Travis was cackling and shrieking with joy as he splashed and kicked and Ryder whirled him around in the water.
As soon as they stepped from the pool, they wrapped the boys in snuggly towels. Ryder rubbed Travis’s arms. She did the same with Tyler and he smiled at her. Her heart swelled at his sweetness. “You are such a good boy. Isn’t he?” she said to Ryder.
“You bet,” Ryder said and pressed his mouth against Tyler’s chubby cheek, making a buzzing sound. Tyler chortled with joy.
“That sound is magic,” she said.
Ryder nodded as he continued to rub Travis. “Yeah, it is.” His glance raked her from head to toe and he shook his head. “You look pretty damn good.”
Bridget felt a warmth spread from her belly to her chest and face, down her legs, all the way to her toes. “It’s just been a long time for you,” she said and turned away to put some clothes on Tyler.
A second later, she felt Ryder’s bare chest against her back. An immediate visceral response rocked through her and she was torn between jumping out of her skin and melting. “Yeah, it has,” he said. “But that shouldn’t make you so damn different from every other woman I’ve met.”
Her stomach dipped. “Stop flattering me,” she said. “Get your baby dressed. You don’t want him chilled.”
After pizza and a raucous bath time, Ryder and Bridget rocked the babies and put them to bed. Ryder would have preferred to usher Bridget into his bed and reacquaint himself with the curves he’d glimpsed in the pool, but he would have to bide his time. Hopefully not too long, he told himself as his gaze strayed to the way her hips moved in her cotton skirt. He’d thought he was so smart getting her out of most of her clothes by inviting her to the baby swimming class. Now he would live with those images all night long.
“Wine?” he asked, lifting a bottle from the kitchen before he joined her in the den.
She had sunk onto the sofa and leaned her head back against it, unintentionally giving him yet another seductive photo for his mental collection. One silky leg crossed over the other while the skirt hugged her hips. The V-neck of her black shirt gave him just a glimpse of creamy cleavage. For once, her lips were bare, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to kiss her.
Her eyes opened to slight slits shrouded with the dark fan of her eyelashes. “One glass,” she said. “I think everyone will sleep well tonight.”
Speak for yourself, he thought wryly and poured her wine. He allowed himself one glass because he wasn’t on call.
“It’s amazing how much they can scream, isn’t it?” she said as he sat beside her.
“They save up energy lying around all the time. It’s not like they can play football or baseball yet.”
“Have you thought about which sport you’ll want them to pursue?” she asked.
“Whatever keeps them busy and tired. If they’re busy and tired, they won’t be as likely to get into trouble,” he said.
“So that’s the secret,” she said with a slow smile. “Did that work for you?”
“Most of the time. I learned at a young age that I wanted a different life than the life my parents had.”
“Hmm, at least you knew your parents,” she said.
“Can’t say knowing my father was one of my strong points.”
“Well, you know what they say, if you can’t be a good example, be a terrible warning.”
He chuckled slightly and relaxed next to her. “I don’t want to be the same kind of father he was. Drunk. Neglectful. Bordering on abusive.”
“You couldn’t be those things,” she said.
“Why not? You’ve heard the saying, an apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“You’ve already fallen a long way from that so-called tree,” she said. “Plus, you may be fighting some of your feelings, but you love those boys.” She lifted her hand to his jaw. “You have a good heart. I liked that about you from the first time I met you.”
“And I thought it was my singing voice,” he said and