Читать книгу The Pregnant Princess - Anne Marie Winston - Страница 11

She wasn’t one bit happy with him, Rafe reflected as he unlocked the door of his Phoenix home shortly after lunch. He eyed the rigid line of Elizabeth’s back and the regal tilt of her small, dimpled chin. They didn’t call her Princess for nothing.

When she’d realized that despite her protests he was adamant about taking her to a doctor, she’d become quietly furious. Through the appointment, and the quick lunch they’d had afterward, she hadn’t spoken one word to him beyond the absolute minimum civility required. If she appreciated his concern for protecting her anonymity, it sure didn’t show.

Now he ushered her into his spacious foyer, wondering what she thought of the skylights that let in the bright, cheerful sunlight, the flagstone floors and the soft pastel colors of the desert that he’d wanted for his private spaces. He’d designed it himself, initially intending to use it as a display for potential clients. But he’d liked it so much, he hadn’t been able to part with it in the end.

Elizabeth halted about three feet into the foyer and turned to face him. “May I use your telephone, please? I’ll put any charges on my calling card.”

He glared at her, oddly disappointed that she didn’t even seem to notice his home, and irritated that she would bring up a silly thing like telephone charges. “The phone is right through here.”

He showed her into his casually appointed den, then left her to go into the kitchen and get each of them a cold drink. The doctor had felt that Elizabeth was in good condition although he had advised her to drink plenty of fluids while she was in Arizona, a dictate Rafe fully intended to see she followed.

From his vantage point around the corner he could clearly hear Elizabeth’s conversation. His upbringing and conscience protested the eavesdropping, but since she wouldn’t talk to him, he told himself he’d have to find out all he could through any method available.

“Yes, this is Elizabeth. Is my mother there?”

A ten-pound load dropped from Rafe’s shoulders. So she wasn’t calling another man! She was calling her parents. Not that it mattered terribly to him, he assured himself.

“Mummy? Hello, it’s Eliz—yes, yes, I’m fine. Yes, I was afraid you’d worry since I didn’t call on time. Oh, please don’t cry. Mummy? Maybe you’d better put Daddy on the line.”

There was a pause, and Rafe remembered to clink a few ice cubes around in the glasses so she wouldn’t think he was spying.

“Hello, Daddy. Of course I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call first thing this morning as I promised. I rented a car but it broke down on a highway while I was on a little day trip. But I’m fine. I’ve met someone you know. Well, I suppose he’s an American now, but he was from Thortonburg once. He calls himself Rafe Thorton now, but you know him as the Prince of Thortonburg. What’s that? Oh, no, I doubt I’ll see much of him. It was really more of a courtesy call on his part—Rafe!” She glared at him as he removed the receiver from her hand and held it to his own ear.

“Hello, Your Majesty. This is Thorton.” He knew he sounded clipped and discourteous, but talking to King Phillip was the last thing he’d planned on doing today. Or any day, for that matter.

“Hello, Raphael.” The King’s voice sounded warm and cordial. “It’s been far too long. The States must agree with you.” He didn’t sound annoyed, particularly.

“Give me that!” Elizabeth reached for the phone he’d taken out of her hand, but he held it above her head until she hissed at him and backed off.

He couldn’t resist grinning at her as he returned the receiver to his ear. She might pretend to be a lady, but there was fire beneath her calm surface. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. I rescued your daughter this morning from a spot of folly. Did she tell you she had no bodyguard or driver with her?”

“No one at all?” King Phillip sounded alarmed, but not particularly surprised. “I’m afraid Elizabeth doesn’t fully understand how careful she must be. She and her youngest sister spent hours trying to outwit their bodyguards as children. She’d become quite adept at sneaking about, and it’s made her a bit overconfident.”

“I agree, Your Majesty. I was a bit concerned myself.”

“Thank you for your assistance.” The monarch’s tones were as friendly as Rafe remembered from his childhood. He never had been able to understand how a man who appeared as nice as the King could conspire with a man as class-conscious as his own father. “Elizabeth will soon be leaving. I believe the dedication ceremony occurred yesterday.”

“It did.” Rafe hesitated. He should be leaping at the chance to get the princess out of his hair, but the thought of her flying back to Wynborough, thousands of miles away, bothered him. He needed more time to think, to decide how to handle this sticky situation with her and the baby before he let her get away.

“Sir, I don’t believe the princess should fly right now,” he said, turning his broad back on Elizabeth’s accusatory face. “She was through a bit of an ordeal this morning. Nothing serious, of course, but I’d be happy to offer her my hospitality until she feels herself again.”

“Thank you, Raphael.” The King sounded relieved. “That’s quite kind of you to look after her for us.”

“It will be my pleasure to look after her,” he said, turning to pin Elizabeth with a meaningful glance.

Her fair skin colored. She avoided his gaze as she reached for the phone, which he let her have this time. “Daddy, I’m twenty-seven years old,” she said into the receiver. “I hardly think I need looking after. In fact, I’d planned on leaving Phoenix today. I want to do a little sightseeing and then I’ll be returning to Mitch and Alexandra’s for a few days before I come home.” She laughed a little, but to Rafe’s ears it was a forced sound. “Yes, I know I’m the only one left. No, I promise I won’t run off with a cowboy.”