A Royal Mess. Jill Shalvis
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know him better, and she would do this by herself. “I’ll change,” she said. She’d purchased clothes during their stop at a general store. With his money. An advance, she’d told him. To be paid back. Now she had jeans and T-shirts, just like Tim.
Somehow she doubted she’d look as good in them as he did. “But I’ll start work now.”
“That’s not necessary, Natalia.”
“You’ll all need dinner, correct?”
“Well, yeah.” He looked right into her eyes, in a way few others did, completely uninhibited by who she was. “You sure about this?”
Sure? Ha! She hadn’t been sure of anything since she’d stepped on the plane a tough princess and had gotten off a regular, unsure woman. “Point me to the kitchen.”
He led her through the house, which was as open and spacious as the land around them. The wood floors were scarred but clean, the furniture oversized, just like everything else in Texas appeared to be, and surprisingly warm and inviting.
At home in Grunberg, there were rooms for guests, and rooms for children. Never the two shall meet.
Not so here. Everyone would be welcome in any room, as there were no precious antiques to destroy, or priceless paintings to breathe on. Here would be an incredible place for a kid to run free. Literally. “It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning it.
He laughed as he headed toward a set of white, double swinging doors. “You sound so surprised.” He stopped and turned so fast she nearly walked right into him. Heat radiated from his big body as he lifted his hands to her waist to steady her. She hadn’t closed his jacket. Beneath she still wore her wet leather skirt and top, which didn’t quite meet. As a result his fingers slid around her bare waist, his thumbs brushing her belly. “Do I look that uncivilized to you?” he asked.
He was teasing her again. She could see the smile tugging at his lips, but with his hands on her, she couldn’t react. Couldn’t even open her mouth to retort.
Then a stream of vulgarities erupted from the kitchen in a very furious, very female voice.
“Who is that?” Natalia asked, stepping back so that his hands fell to his sides.
“My sister.” Tim stared at the closed door with dread. “Please, don’t let her have set anything on fire or killed anyone,” he muttered, and with a weak smile to Natalia, he pressed through the swinging doors.
At the huge table sat a small group of rough-and-ready men, all of whom brightened considerably at the sight of Tim.
But at the refrigerator, wearing low-slung jeans, a tank top and scuffed boots, stood a woman, swearing at the rather sparse-looking shelves. “I am not going to face the grocery store,” she said. “No way, no how, not again. I don’t care how hungry you all are, you’ll make do with whatever is in here.” She picked up something moldy. “Well, f—”
“Sally,” Tim said quickly, with his hand low on Natalia’s spine as he guided her into the room.
“Hallelujah.” She whirled with a wide, anticipatory grin that perfectly matched her brother’s.
A grin that vanished at the sight of Natalia, who stood next to Tim in her wet leather covered by Tim’s jacket.
“Sally, meet—”
“Oh, great. Just great. I get in trouble for kissing Josh in the barn and you—”
“What?” asked a man from the table, where all the men had perked up.
“You were kissing Josh?” another asked.
“Wow.”
“Damn, you didn’t tell us that.”
Sally ignored all of them. “—and now you’re flaunting some new biker chick right under my nose. Nice, Tim. Real nice.”
Natalia’s jaw dropped. “I am not the…new biker chick.” Just the idea made her want to laugh. Made her want to stomp her foot in anger.
Made her wonder what it would be like to be Tim’s “new biker chick.”
“Well, then who are you?” Sally demanded.
“I’m trying to tell you who she is,” Tim said mildly, though there was a definite warning in his eyes for his sister. “Now try to behave. Natalia’s the temporary cook.”
“Uh-huh,” Sally said. “And I’m the queen of England.”
“My God, you people and the queen of England!” Natalia exclaimed, baffled. She instantly pitied Tim for having such a horrid sister, and decided to kiss Annie and Lili the moment she saw them next.
Tim laughed and shook his head. “Okay, let’s start over. Natalia, forget Sally, she’s just being bad-mannered and equally bad-tempered, which happens…oh, every few moments or so.”
“Anyone related to you would have the same problem,” Sally muttered.
Tim ignored her. “Natalia, these guys at the table—Ryan, Pete, Seth and Red—they’re my head guys.”
All four men smiled.
She smiled back.
Tim turned her toward the refrigerator, and the woman who was standing there scowling. “And this is my sister, Sally, who is going to try very hard to be kind and sweet. Sally, this is Natalia. The woman who’s going to relieve you in this very kitchen, so be nice.”
Sally eyeballed Natalia up and down.
Natalia eyeballed Sally up and down right back.
“Sally,” Tim warned.
“I’m always nice,” Sally said with a sniff, but she at least came forward and gave her brother a great big bear hug, resting her head on his shoulder as if she was very happy to see him.
“I’m always nice, too,” Natalia said, oddly touched by the obvious show of affection between siblings.
“Good. We’re all nice. No problem.” Tim pulled back and gave an extra long look to his sister. “So, I guess you’re still mad about Josh.”
“Gee, give the man a prize.”
“Where is he?”
“Outside eating. Like you said he had to.”
“Yeah, let’s hear more about Josh,” Seth said from the table. “Details.”
“In your dreams,” Sally said, then turned on Tim. “So if she’s only the cook, why do you have your hand on her?”
He did, it was still on Natalia’s back, lightly. He didn’t remove it. Instead, his thumb brushed her spine as his green, green eyes gazed down at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “I was protecting her from you.”
The men laughed heartily, while Sally sent them daggers with her eyes.
“If this is going to cause problems…” Natalia started. “I can—”
“No problems,” Tim said with another pass of his thumb, which in return, caused most of the thoughts to dance right out of Natalia’s head.
But she wasn’t some silly teenager, run by racy hormones. She wouldn’t get all flustered and tongue-tied over a sexy-as-hell cowboy whose jeans should be registered as an illegal weapon. “I don’t want to be the cause of any bad feelings.”
“Well, don’t leave on my account.” Sally smiled sweetly and held open the kitchen door. “Unless you feel you must. How about I call you a cab? You can take it to the nearest body-piercing saloon. In say, California.”
Tim reached out and shut the door.
But Natalia stepped forward. She spoke for herself, always, and had since the age of two. “I’m—”
“Staying,”