Читать книгу The Royals Collection - Ким Лоренс, Rebecca Winters - Страница 86

Sam’s home was not at all what Anne had expected.

She’d pictured a modern-style mansion or a seaside condo with every amenity a wealthy bachelor could want. Instead, as her driver pulled up the long gravel drive, what she got was a scene straight out of Hansel and Gretel.

Sam lived in a quaint cottage tucked deep in the forest and nestled under a canopy of towering pines and lazy oaks so dense only dappled sunshine dotted its sagging roof. It was quiet, and secluded, and utterly charming. Not to mention a security nightmare.

“Maybe we should have had dinner at the palace,” she told her bodyguard, Gunter, who sat in the front seat beside her driver.

“Is no problem,” he replied in a thick Russian accent. He checked his reflection in the side mirror, running a hand through his blond brush cut. Preening, she thought with a quiet smile. Physically Gunter bore a striking resemblance to Arnold Schwarzenegger in his early Terminator days, with a face that, Anne hated to admit, was far prettier than her own. Women swooned in his presence, never suspecting that a man so ridiculously masculine and tough lived with a cat called Toodles and a life partner named David. He had a killer fashion sense and was more intuitive than most women she knew. In fact, he had guessed that she might be pregnant before anyone in her family had even noticed. She had been in serious denial and Gunter showed up for duty with a pregnancy test.

“Is good you should know, yes?” he’d said, then he’d sat on her bed waiting while she took the test, then listened to her vent after it came back positive.

He was also ex-KGB and could snap a man’s neck like a twig without breaking a sweat.

The car rolled to a stop and Gunter got out to open her door.

“I do sweep,” he said, as he helped her out.

“He’s the father of my child. Is that really necessary?”

Gunter just gave her one of those looks and she knew it wasn’t even worth arguing. She blew out an exasperated breath for good measure and in her best annoyed tone said, “Fine.”

The door to the cottage opened as they started up the walk and there stood Sam, looking too adorable for words, wearing dark blue slacks and a sky-blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. He smiled, both dimples showing, and she caught herself hoping that the baby looked just like him.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Gunter’s brows lift, almost imperceptibly, and she could swear she heard him say, Nice, under his breath.

Up until that instant she had only been a little nervous about seeing Sam, but suddenly her heart was going berserk in her chest and her hands were trembling.

“Hi,” she said as she stepped up to the tiny, covered porch complete with a rickety rocking chair and a terra-cotta pot overflowing with yellow and purple petunias.

Sam leaned casually in the doorway, the sweet smile not budging an inch, taking in her taupe cotton skirt and yellow silk sleeveless blouse. It was the most cheerful outfit she could dredge up that still fit. Only lately had she realized just how dark and dreary her wardrobe had become over the past few years. She swore that when she got around to buying maternity clothes they would be in only bright and cheerful colors. She was turning over a new leaf so she could be someone her baby would respect and be proud of. The way she respected her own mother.

Sam’s eyes traveled very unplatonically down her body then back up again, clearly liking what they saw. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look nice, too.” Talk about swooning. Being close to him did funny things to her head. Neurons misfired and wires crossed, creating total and utter chaos.

You’re only here to talk about the baby, she reminded herself, not to indulge your ridiculous crush.

Beside her Gunter softly cleared his throat. Right. The sweep.

“Would you mind terribly if Gunter did a quick security check of the house?” Anne asked Sam.

It was the kind of request that might insult some people, but Sam just shrugged, gestured inside and said, “Have at it, Gunter.”

Gunter pinned her with a look that said, Don’t move, but she knew the drill.

“Wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley,” Sam said, after he disappeared inside. “Gunter. German, right?”

“On his mother’s side, but he was raised in Moscow.” Anne peered past him into the cottage. It was just as quaint and old-fashioned as the exterior, with older but comfortable-looking furniture and more knickknacks that even Gunter would deem appropriate for a man. And it smelled a little like…old people.

“Your house is lovely,” she said. “Not at all what I expected.”

“Needless to say, I’m exceedingly secure in my masculinity.”

“I guess so.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry but no man is that secure. The truth is, it’s my grandmother’s place.”

Which explained the geriatric bouquet. “You live with her?”

“Only in spirit. She passed away three years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just staying here temporarily. While my place is being worked on.”

“You’re remodeling?”

“You could say that, although not by choice. I’ve had a leak in the roof for a while, but when my bedroom and kitchen ceilings started to droop, I decided it was time to finally do something about it. But then I figured, since I would be gone anyway, it only made sense to update the kitchen while I was at it. So, three days’ worth of work turned into more like three weeks.” He gestured inside. “Can I give you the tour?”

“I can’t, not until I get the all clear.”

“Right,” he said. “Just in case I have an assassin hiding under the davenport.”

“I know, it’s ridiculous.”

His expression turned serious. “Not at all,” he said, then he reached out and placed a hand over her baby bump. The gesture was so surprising, so unexpected, that her knees went weak. His eyes locked on hers, clear and intense, and his mouth was close. Too close. “Not if it keeps you and Sam Junior safe.”

Hadn’t they agreed that it would be prudent to keep a safe physical distance? That when they got too close they— Wait, what did he say? “Sam who?”

He grinned and gave her belly a gentle pat before he moved his hand away. “Sam Junior.”

“So you think it’s a boy?”

“That’s the beauty of it. It works for a boy or a girl. Samuel or Samantha. Either way we call it Sam.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “It would seem you have it all figured out.”

He pinned his eyes on her, his gaze so intense she swore she could feel it straight through to her bones. “I’m a man who knows what he wants, Your Highness.”

His eyes said he wanted her, but she knew he was probably only teasing. But if Gunter hadn’t reappeared at that very second, she might have melted into a puddle on the doorstep.

“Is all clear,” Gunter said, stepping onto the porch and gesturing her in. As Sam closed the door, Anne knew that Gunter would stand on the porch, in a military stance, unmoving until it was time to leave.

“Ready for that tour?” Sam asked and she nodded. Although, honestly, there really wasn’t that much to see. The front room had just enough space for a couch, glider and a rickety television stand with a TV that was probably older than her. The kitchen was small but functional, with appliances that dated back to the dark ages. But if the flame under the pot on the stove, and the hum of refrigerator, were any indication, they were both still working. The loo was also tiny, with an antique sink and commode and an antique claw-foot tub.

Next he took her into the bedrooms. The smaller of the two was being used as an office and the larger was where Sam slept. As they stood in the doorway, Anne couldn’t help thinking that the last time they had been in a bedroom together they had both been out of their brains with lust for each other. It seemed like so long ago, yet she recalled every instant, every detail in Technicolor clarity.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,” he said.

The bed was mussed and there were clothes piled over a chair in the corner. The entire house had something of a cluttered but cozy feel. And though the entire square footage was less that her sleeping chamber at the castle, she felt instantly at home there.

“I was under the impression your family had money,” she said, feeling like a snob the instant the words were out. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“That’s okay,” he said with a good-natured smile. “The money came from my grandfather’s side. My grand mother grew up here. After her parents died, she and my grandfather would spend weekends here. After my grandfather died, she moved back permanently and stayed until she died.”

“I can see why she moved back,” she told him as they walked back to the kitchen. “It’s really lovely.”

“It’s not exactly the castle.”

“No, but it has loads of charm.”

“And no space.”

She shrugged. “It’s cozy.”

“And it desperately needs to be updated. Did you see that tub?”

She gazed around. “No, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

He looked at her funny. “You’re serious.”

She smiled and nodded. She really liked it. “It’s so…peaceful. The minute I walked in I felt completely at home.” She could even picture herself spending time here, curled up on the couch reading a book or taking long walks through the woods. Although, until the Gingerbread Man was caught, that would never be allowed.

“I’m glad,” he said, flashing her the sexy grin that made her knees go weak. “Would you like something to drink? I have soda and juice.”

“Just water, please.”

He got a bottle from the fridge and poured it into a glass with a wedge of lime. As he handed it to her, their fingertips touched.

“Something smells delicious,” she said.

“Chicken soup. My grandmother’s recipe.”

Not your typical summer food, but that was okay. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He grinned and wiggled his brows. “I am a man of many talents, Your Highness.”

Oh, did she know it. Although under the circumstances many of those talents were best not contemplated. “What else can you make?”

“Let’s see,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “I can make coffee. And toast. I can heat a pizza. Oh, and I make a mean tray of ice cubes. And did I mention the toast?”

She smiled. “So in other words, you eat out a lot?”

“Constantly. But I wanted to impress you and I figured the soup might be good since you haven’t been feeling well.”

It was sweet of him to consider her temperamental stomach. He was so considerate and…nice. And oh, how she wished things could be different, that they could at least try to make a go of it, try to be a family. She wanted it so much her chest ached. It was all she had been able to think about since their talk in his office the other day. He was, by definition, the man of her dreams.

But some things just weren’t meant to be.

“I think maybe it was stress making me feel sick,” she said. “Since I told you about the baby, I’ve felt much better. I’ll get nauseous occasionally, but no more running to the loo. I’ve even gained a few pounds, which I know will make my physician happy.”

“That’s great.” He lifted the lid off the pot of soup and gave it a stir with a wooden spoon. “The soup is ready. But would you prefer to talk first and get it out of the way? So we can relax and enjoy dinner.”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

He gestured to the front room. “Shall we sit on the sofa?”

She nodded and took a seat, and he sat beside her, so close that his thigh was touching hers. Was this his idea of platonic?

He had given no indication that he would be difficult, or make unreasonable demands when it came to the baby, but she still wasn’t sure what to expect. Sam, in contrast, sat beside her looking completely at ease. Did the man never get his feathers ruffled? When she had fallen apart at the ball he had snapped into action and rescued her from imminent public humiliation. When she told him about the baby he had been calm and rational and even sympathetic. She had never seen, or even heard of him ever losing his temper.

She, on the other hand, always seemed to be irritated and cranky about one thing or another. She could learn a lot from Sam. Although, if he knew the truth, if he knew that this little “accident” could have easily been prevented, he might not be so understanding. She would just have to be sure that he never found out.

“Before we get started,” she said, “I just want to tell you again that I appreciate how well you’ve taken all this. I know things could potentially get complicated at some point, with custody and financial issues, and even different parenting styles. I just want you to know that I’m going to try my best to keep things civilized. I know I don’t have a reputation for being the most reasonable woman, but I’m going to try really hard.”

Sam’s expression was serious. “Suppose I thought of a way to make things exponentially easier on both of us. On all three of us, actually.”

She couldn’t imagine how, but she shrugged and said, “I’m all for easy.”

“I think you should marry me.”

He said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that the meaning of his words took several seconds to sink in. Then she was sure that she must have heard him wrong, or he was playing some cruel joke. That any second he was going to laugh and say, “Gotcha!”

“I know it’s fast,” he said instead. “I mean, we barely know each other. But, for the baby’s sake, I really think it’s the logical next move.”

My God, he was serious. He wanted to marry her. How was that even possible when only a few days ago it supposedly hadn’t been an option?

“But…you want to be prime minister.”

“Yes, but that isn’t what’s best for the baby. I’m going to be a father. From now on, I have to put his or her best interests first.”

She had a sudden, unsettling thought. “My family isn’t making you do this, are they? Did they threaten you?”

“This has nothing to do with your family.” He took her hand and held it between his two. “This is what I want, Annie. What I think is best for everyone. We have to at least try, for the baby’s sake.”

She was thrilled to the center of her being…and drowning in a churning sea of guilt. If she had just acted responsibly, if she hadn’t lied about being protected, they wouldn’t be in this situation. He wouldn’t be forced to give up everything that he had worked so hard for.

What if it was a decision he regretted someday and he grew to resent her and the baby? But what if he didn’t? What if they fell in love and lived a long and happy life together?

She folded her other hand over his two. “Sam, are you sure about this? Because once we’re married, that’s it. A divorce can only be granted with the consent of the king.”

“Let’s try this another way,” he said, then he dropped down on one knee in front of her and produced a diamond ring from his pants pocket.

She could hardly believe that this was really happening. It was a real, honest-to-goodness proposal.

He took her hand, looked deep in her eyes. “Will you marry me, Annie?”

There was only one answer she could give him. “Of course I’ll marry you, Sam.”

Grinning, he slid the ring on her finger. It was fashioned from white gold with a round cut diamond deeply set and surrounded by smaller stones. Despite its shine it was clearly an antique, not to mention exquisitely beautiful.

“Oh, Sam, it’s amazing.”

“It was my great-grandmother’s,” he said.

“We must have the same size finger,” she said, turning her hand to watch it sparkle. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“I had it sized.”

“But how did you know what size to make it?”

“Princess Louisa.”

“You asked my sister?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. I just can’t believe she didn’t say anything. She’s horrible at keeping secrets.”

“I guess she wanted our moment to be special.”

“It is.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him and he hugged her back just as hard. It felt so good to hold him, to be close to him. It felt like…coming home. And she realized, she was truly happy. The happiest she had been in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

It was astonishing how, out of such a complicated situation, something so fantastic could arise. Ideally, he would have slipped sentiments of love somewhere between the rationale, but she was sure that would come later. Not that she believed it would be all smooth sailing. She knew that marriages took work and this one would be no exception. But they seemed to be off to a fairly good start under the circumstances.

“I know he’s not well, but if at all possible, I’d like to be there when you tell the king and queen,” Sam said. “I’d like to do this by the book and have the chance to ask for your hand.”

His words made her practically burst with joy, because he would be giving her father something he had always looked forward to. “We’ll go to them tomorrow,” she said, already excited at the prospect, because she knew that her parents would be thrilled for her. Even if Sam was a politician. And they would be so excited about the baby.

“Needless to say, we should have the wedding soon,” he said. “I was thinking next week.”

That was really soon, but he was right. The sooner the better. It would have to be a small ceremony, if for no other reason than her father’s health. It was the reason Louisa had kept her own wedding small and intimate, despite having always dreamed of a huge, traditional affair.

Not one to like being in the spotlight, Anne would be quite content with small and simple. That didn’t mean there weren’t a million things to do to prepare.

Her mind was suddenly flooded with all the plans they had to make and the short amount of time they had to make them. Where would they have the ceremony and who would they invite? And would the king be well enough to walk her down the aisle? And what about a honeymoon? Where would they—

That thought brought her mind to a screeching halt.

What about the honeymoon? And even more important, the wedding night?

Suddenly she was ultra-aware of Sam’s arms around her, his body pressed against hers. The heat of his palms on her back and the spicy scent of his aftershave.

Suddenly her heart was beating so hard and fast she was sure Sam must have felt it through her clothes and skin. And all she could think about was getting him naked again. Touching him and kissing him all over. He must have been able to read her mind, because his breath hitched and his arms tightened around her.

“So, I guess this means that we don’t have to keep our relationship platonic any longer,” she said.

“Funny,” he said. “But I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

Thank God. Because frankly, a marriage without sex would be bloody awful.

She turned her face into the crook of his neck and kissed the side of his throat, could feel the heavy thump-thump of his pulse against her lips, and knew that he was just as aroused as she was. “We could make love right now if we wanted to.”

“We could,” he agreed, groaning when she nipped him with her teeth. She felt as though she wanted to eat him alive. Swallow him whole. She lifted her head, and the second she did he captured her lips with his own, but instead of the slick, ravenous kiss she was expecting, hoping for even, his lips rubbed softly, almost sweetly over hers. He kissed her chin and her throat, working his way down.

“Take me into your bedroom,” she urged, sliding her hands up to tangle in the curls at his nape, feeling so hot she could burst into flames. “Right now.”

“God knows I want you,” he said, brushing his lips over her collarbone. “I’ve wanted you since that night. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

“You can have me. Right now.”

He trailed his way back up to her mouth and whispered against her lips, “Or we could wait until we’re married.”

She groaned her disappointment. She wasn’t even sure she could wait. “I feel as though I might go out of my mind if I can’t have you right now.”

“All the more reason to wait,” he said, sounding far too rational. “Think of how special it would be on our wedding night.”

She opened her eyes to look at him and smiled. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

He grinned. “Poke fun all you want, but you know I’m right.”

Yes, he was right. Not that anything about their relationship up to this point could be called conventional. She might have worried that he just didn’t want her, and was trying to let her down gently, but the tent in his pants and the color in his cheeks said he was just as aroused as she was.

“Is that really what you want?”

He took her hands from around his neck and held them, his expression earnest. “I think we should wait.”

It was clear that this wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, and if she pushed the issue he would probably cave and make passionate love to her all night long. She didn’t really understand why this was so important to him, but it clearly was. Besides, what was a few more days?

She would respect his wishes and wait for her wedding night, she decided grudgingly. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.