Tempted By The Royal. Michelle Celmer
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her head.
“Why not?” the princess asked.
“Because I’m a bartender, not a writer.”
“You have a gift,” Lara insisted. “It would be a shame not to see what you could do with it.”
Molly’s grandmother had said the same thing to her more than once, but she’d thought she was just encouraging her because that’s what grandmothers did—and because hers in particular thought she should be doing anything other than serving drinks in a bar. But Molly had never really thought seriously of doing anything else, so she was relieved when William crawled over and drew Lara’s attention.
The baby climbed into his mother’s lap and laid his head against her breast, rubbing his eyes with hands that were stained with dirt and grass. Lara just sighed and snuggled him closer. “You’re getting sleepy, aren’t you, dirty boy?”
His only response was a yawn.
Molly felt a strange tug inside her as she realized it wouldn’t be too much longer before she would have her own baby to cuddle in her arms.
“They’re all such stunning children,” she murmured.
“The Santiago genes are strong,” Lara said, then smiled. “And exceptional.”
Molly nodded. “I met Prince Damon first,” she said. “And I was stunned by how beautiful he is. I know he’s a boy, but there isn’t any other word to do him justice. I thought the same thing when I saw his brother and then Prince Matthew and Prince William, too. And then Princess Alexandria walked into the room and somehow managed to outshine them all.”
Lara laughed. “She does, doesn’t she? And Isabella, Marcus and Jewel’s baby, is just the same. You’ll get to meet her when they fly in for the wedding.”
“They’re coming here for Scott and Fiona’s wedding?”
“Yeah, Marcus grumbled, of course, because San Antonio is a lot closer to West Virginia than Tesoro del Mar is, but I don’t think he would miss it for the world.”
“I didn’t realize, until recently, that Scott had grown up here,” Molly said. “I’m not sure Fiona did, either, or knew that his best friend was a prince. I mean, Scott had talked about Eric and Marcus and Rowan, but he certainly didn’t make a big deal out of the fact that they were royalty.”
“Titles shouldn’t matter between friends,” the princess said simply. “Which is why I’d really like it if you’d call me ‘Lara’ instead of ‘Your Highness’.”
“Thank you,” Molly said.
Lara rose to her feet with the half asleep baby on her shoulder and grinned. “And as your friend,” she said. “I expect to be kept apprised of whatever is going on between you and Eric—because I know there’s something.”
Molly couldn’t deny it, but she could clarify to ensure the princess didn’t anticipate any new romantic developments. “Was.”
The smile never wavered. “We’ll see about that.”
And before Molly could think of an appropriate response, Lara had excused herself to round up Matthew, and take both kids inside, to clean them up before they went for their naps.
Despite the hints about Molly’s relationship with Eric, she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with the princess and her children and was disappointed when they left.
Left to her own devices once again, she changed into her bathing suit, slathered on a generous amount of sunscreen and headed down to the pool. She’d forgotten to pack a book and considered detouring past the library on the main level to borrow one, but decided that she wasn’t feeling that ambitious. She didn’t want to read or think…she just wanted to be.
She laid her towel over the back of the lounge chair, adjusted the tilt and settled in. Then she remembered Fiona’s warning about raccoon eyes and tan lines, so she removed her sunglasses and, double-checking to make sure no one else was around, she untied the strings of the halter from around her neck and tucked them into the keyhole between her breasts.
She promised herself that she would clear her mind, that she wouldn’t let herself think about Eric or her pregnancy or anything else that would give her worry lines. And she managed to keep that promise—until a shadow fell over her, blocking the sun.
She knew, even before she opened her eyes, that it was Eric. Somehow, instinctively, she just knew.
“How long have you been out here?” he asked her.
She shrugged, then realized her mistake when the top of her bathing suit slipped a little lower.
His gaze dropped, lingered.
“The dress I’m wearing for the wedding is strapless,” she explained. “Fiona would have a fit if I had tan lines.”
“I imagine she would.” He reached for the bottle of sunscreen beside her chair, squirted some on his palm, then rubbed his hands together to spread it over both. “She would be even more upset if you burned.”
Molly swallowed as he shifted closer, his intent obvious. “I covered up pretty good before I came out.”
“But you don’t even know how long you’ve been out,” he said, sliding his hands over the curve of her shoulders.
She had to bite down on her lip so that she wouldn’t moan out loud because, oh my, he had such talented hands. Such wickedly, wonderfully, talented hands.
No—she wouldn’t moan. But she would, and did, close her eyes, as he smoothed lotion down her arms, then up again. Across her collarbone. And—oh my—over the swell of her breasts.
Desire, hot and liquid, pulsed through her system as his hands glided over her skin, caressing and lingering long after the lotion had been rubbed into her skin.
“I think that’s, um, good,” she finally managed. “Thanks.”
His lips curved. “My pleasure.”
“So…” she held a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun as she looked up at him “…is there a reason you came down to the pool? Because it obviously wasn’t to swim.”
“I sat in on a meeting with the Minister of Economic Development,” he said, explaining the dark suit he wore. “I came down to the pool looking for you.”
“And now you’ve found me.”
“So I did,” he agreed, then grinned. “The question now is, can I keep you?”
“Believe me, you won’t want to in a few more months.”
“I can’t imagine that being true,” he said, sitting on the edge of the chair beside hers. “Just thinking about the fact that you’re carrying my baby—”
“Eric,” she warned.
“There’s no one around to overhear.”
He was right. They were completely alone. It was just the two of them and all of her rampaging hormones—not a good scenario.
“And as I was saying,” he continued, “just knowing that you’re carrying my child makes me want you even more.”
“The wanting is what got us into this predicament,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, and gave her another one of those slow smiles that made everything inside of her turn to mush.
Molly picked up her glass and drank deeply, but what had been ice water half an hour before was now lukewarm and did nothing to cool the heat in her veins.
As the day of Fiona and Scott’s wedding drew nearer, Molly saw less and less of Eric. She knew that all the